Edmund
Somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots. I listen to the sound. Maybe it is telling us something?
A long time ago, the vampires were able to understand the animals. They were in unison with nature. They lived along with it, not disturbing it in the slightest way. But now, nature deems all creatures apart from animals, its enemy. The humans, the shifters, the werewolves, the vampires. It doesn't spare any of us. In the eyes of nature, we are all the same. It has made an enemy of us all. Or maybe, we have made ourselves into the enemy of nature. That is surely what humans have done for themselves.
"Here," Bianca finally stops, and so do I.
We are both breathing heavily, looking around.
"There aren't any bushes with berries," I notice. "Nor a willow tree."
"There was an old tree over there," she points to a long beaten down stump that is barely noticeable from the moss that has grown all over it. "It was cut down a long time ago."
I walk over to it, but I can't figure out what tree it is. I turn my attention back to her. "And the bushes?" I ask.
"I think there were some bushes there," she pointed again in the other direction.
We walk over there together, and I notice some newly growing bushes, but I doubt that's hawthorne. I really want to think that we are here, that this is the place we've been looking for, but everything is proving the opposite. There isn't a single trace of a well anywhere around. There can't be.
We separate slightly but remain within each other's eyesight. We look for possible clues, but I already feel that familiar sensation of disappointment set in. I try not to allow it to take over, but it's stronger than me.
We spend several minutes walking about, looking like two crazy people lost in the woods, searching for a way out. Finally, we turn to each other. There is the same look of defeat in both our eyes.
"Nothing?" she asks, mostly just to ask something. She already knows the answer.
"Nothing," I reply, mostly just to say something.
"I was sure it was here," she says apologetically.
"It's fine," I tell her, walking over to her and cupping her chin with the tips of my fingers. "You've already done more than I have. You had a specific place in mind. I was just… like you said, wandering around the place, hoping to stumble onto something."
"I didn't mean it like that," she admits.
"I know," I nod. "But I appreciate the confession."
I inhale deeply, looking around, as if this one last look might be the one. I rest my hands on my hips, feeling overwhelmed by this sudden rush of hope, only to have it dashed against the devastating shores of reality.
"I think it might be the time to accept the truth," I say, more to myself than to her, but she responds immediately.
"What truth?" She sounds apprehensive.
"That there is no well," I admit. "Or that there was a well, but that it's not here anymore. Or it's hidden somewhere where I'll never find it. Or whatever other option there is, where I never find it."
"Don't give up," she says, but it does little to dissuade me.
"I think I have… just now," I confess. "I really thought we had it this time. I thought we were so close. I thought…" I didn't finish my sentence. There is no point in finishing it. She knows what I mean. Words are unnecessary here.
She doesn't say anything. I thought she might have another confidence boost or something, but she doesn't.
I try to smile, but it's difficult. "Come on," I tell her. "Let's head back to the factory."
"And then what?" she asks.
I breathe out heavily. "I don't know. I honestly don't know."
For the first time in a long while, this is true. I always looked at things from the bright side. I always thought that no matter how dark the tunnel was, the light was just around the corner. You just had to go through the darkness, and you would eventually get there.
This time, however, I feel like I haven't been moving towards the light at all. I've been standing in one place, in pitch black, unaware in which direction to turn, where to go. I have no idea. I am completely lost. I feel like the worst leader ever. They are all counting on me to bring them hope. But how can I bring hope to those who believe in me when I can barely be hopeful myself?
Bianca realizes that this is the wrong time to ask any more questions, so silently, we head back. I feel like crumpling up the stupid piece of paper, which we did try to follow, but again, it brought us nothing. Still, I fight the urge to throw it away, and instead, I just shove it in my pocket.
I follow Bianca, not taking my eyes off of her. With each step I feel like we are drifting apart. We are going in the same direction, but for how long? Soon, she will find her own path and she will leave, never to be seen again.
I try to banish the thought from my mind, because that is the best thing that could happen for both of us. Our relationship would never work. It would never be accepted by other vampires. I shouldn't even consider it. Then, why is it the only thing I can think of?