The Ancients

1: Defenceless

My dislike for humans was based on general principle: they were dirty and constantly smelled like sweat mixed with perfume. I couldn't fathom why Emmet didn't think the same.

We sat there for a moment in silence. My eyes wandered to the weeping willow that stood in the middle of a huge field of wild grass, just behind the kitchen window. It reminded me of my childhood when we spent countless hours running around and climbing it. Hiding away in the hanging leaves and branches, pretending to be somewhere else.

On the thickest branch that reached almost entirely to our porch—like an arm grabbing a hold of the house—were three initials carved into its bark. Calmly looking up into the sky, I refused to let the memory sink deeper than it already had. Now was not the time to dwell on past happenings.

Grey clouds loomed above, covering the sun like a bad omen. I could smell the soft, damp aroma of fresh rain in the air. A gust of wind blew through the window, straight into the kitchen. Scattered across the glass were dirty flecks of something. 

Dirt, maybe? Or grease?

I heard faint whispers then, with a strange echo I had never heard before. There were probably a few younglings in the forest, running about. Still, it made me uneasy.

The window was the only source of natural light in the small room we called a kitchen. Beneath the window were two counter-pieces. Small and practical, the entire room was furnished fittingly. Inside the kitchen on the right there was a round table pushed almost entirely to the wall. There was just enough room for a small bench. Still, being very open it allowed entry through two arches. In the back, the rounded arch lead into the hallway.

Looking at the hallway wall, pictures of us siblings hanging there, something dark, like multiple, slithering shadows snaked across the wall. Tearing my eyes open, I wondered what it was. Slow and tantalising it crept higher and higher, putting me into a trance-like state as I watched it climb all the way to the ceiling.

Was that smoke? 

No. There was no fire to cause it. 

But what was it?

Closing my eyes shut, I shook my head and re-opened them. I frowned. 

The shadows, smoke, or whatever it was, was gone.

Huh.

That was strange. Perhaps I had just imagined it.

Emmet's voice brought me back into the kitchen and into a reality I would have liked to stray from a little while longer. "The council's votes must have been in their favour. I suspect Jonathan had his hand in it."

I frowned again. "Jonathan?"

What would Jonathan want with more human residents?

Emmet moved to the counter, leaned over it and completely opened the previously tilted window.

A strong gust of wind hurled into the kitchen and blew into my face. Its touch instantly caused my skin to prickle. Breathing in deeply, I let the smell of rain wash over me again. I loved rain. There was nothing more soothing than the cool air and the quiet, humming sound of the drops drizzling against the wooden walls of our home.

Emmet sat back down. "Because, as a representative of the Immortals, having more humans in our community means more resources. You know how Jonathan is."

Frowning again, I stared at him. What did a blood-consuming, half-dead-half-alive immortal being want with more resources? I still wasn't following...

Raising his eyebrows Emmet said, "As in food?" He made it sound like I was daft.