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It was too bright to have a conversation. Martyn squinted his eyes and kept his head focused on the ground, trying to ignore the fact that the sun tried to sear his flesh into pork chops. Cleo was acting strange, their usual grounded demeanour replaced by being flighty and antsy. They danced between him, Pearl, and the direction of the soft shade, as if they were on the edge of a knife.
"I have a confession to make."
Dread pooled in his stomach. NONonononono. His nerves were getting yanked and tangled with each passing minute. Cleo didn't look too much different, their skin was still flawless and sun spotted. Except that they were definitely a shade paler than usual.
Cleo was fine, she had to be.
If she wasn't fine, then what was he?
Cleo drew in a deep breath, their body stuttering with the motion. "I didn't get out of the castle alive."
Oh god. Martyn's hand found the smoothed texture of leather. He gripped the handle, trembling, not wanting to believe the implications of her words. He joked weakly, "Good to know I can see ghosts now."
He stole a glance at Pearl, expecting her to have the same look of dread that he had. He was met with a very confused expression, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.
"Eh?"
Pearl stepped forward. Martyn sucked in a sharp breath. Cleo just shook her head sadly.
"Pearl, I'm not me anymore."
Martyn wore fear on his face and wielded its icy claws in his hands. He started to draw his sword, only stopping when Pearl took Cleo's hand in hers, guiding them up to her neck. What is she doing?
"Do you want to kill me Cleo?"
Cleo spluttered, "Heavens no! I would never-"
"Then you're still Cleo," Pearl dropped one of her hands to place it over Cleo's still heart, "This will not determine who you are, right Martyn?"
Her voice dropped into an assertive octave, pining him down with a piercing glare. Martyn was frozen like a deer in headlights, in a fighting stance with his blade pointed towards the duo in front of him. He gripped his sword like a lifeline, as if it would tell him what he should do next.
Pearl locked Martyn in a death stare.
"It's your move, Martyn."
And in that gaze, Martyn understood. Pearl was ready to play judge, jury and executioner. If he drew blood right now, his story would end here. Martyn didn't dare to dance with death and yet, he was hesitant to drop his weapon. DANGERDANGERfriendDANGER
"Martyn, you do realise that she had no obligation of telling us this," Pearl reasoned exasperatedly, unaware of Martyn's internal dilemma. " It's quite literally giving us a stake and trusting us not to stab it into her heart."
The sword he held wavered. He was scared. Afraid of what Cleo could be. But oddly enough, he couldn't find it in his heart to swing his blade. Not at his friend. Never at his soulmate.
Bravery is about being afraid and doing it anyway, his father's lessons surfaced to his mind. They were out in the open, in an empty clearing, yet this was the most suffocated he had ever been.
"Cleo." Martyn found himself speaking," Are you one of them?"
Cleo fiddled with the sunflower she had, tucking it between the strands of their hair.
"By blood, not by choice."
Martyn dropped his sword.
Martyn watched as Pearl rocketed forward, wrapping Cleo in her warm embrace, "You're safe. And you'll always have a home with me."
Cleo chuckled, "An open invitation is a dangerous one."
Martyn shuffled forward with unease, "I still don't like this."
Cleo released their grip on Pearl, and put both her hands up, "I don't expect you to like me but please, at least trust that I would never, ever harm anyone in Oakhurst willingly." Her eyes were honest and pleading and something a voice nagged at Martyn, are you going to abandon them again?
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "It's alright, I'll get over it. Besides I left you alone to fend for yourself, if I got to you earlier maybe this wouldn't have happened."
The atmosphere was tinged with maybe's and should have's and Pearl didn't like it one bit. What's done was done and all they could do was adapt. She clapped sharply, bringing everyone to the present.
Before she could speak, Cleo beat her to the punch, "I trust you guys with my life, and I don't want to hide. That's the worst thing I could do."
Martyn hummed, his words stringing into half baked sentences and strangling his vocal cords. If Cleo was being civilised and human, who's to say the others couldn't? If being a vampire was a mindset, an active choice to kill first and ask later, then maybe Owen was right.
Maybe it was humans that had the makings of a monster. Maybe they were the ones incapable of peace.
There was sand in his shoe, there was a blade in the air, there was no water near but it was dripping
Down
Down
Down
Martyn didn't want to think about that.
Thankfully, Pearl filled in the silence. "Actually, can you do the bat stuff? I mean- if you're okay with showing us."
Cleo perked up. They could do that. They had to go further in though, they couldn't risk anyone outside their little group seeing them.
The trio hiked their way further into the shade, the leaves shielding them from the harsh glare of the sunlight. Martyn noticed that the steam forming around them seemed to cease one Cleo was fully enclosed in darkness. Would blackout curtains be a good idea? I think I have extra wool.
Cleo wrung her hands nervously, they were basically stumbling in the dark and hoping the switch they flicked would be the right one. There seemed to be a small flutter of movement at the back of her mind. It was small. It was vulnerable. It was her.
"Cleo, you ready?"
"Not really. But we're doing it anyway."
As Pearl counted down, three, two, one, Cleo coaxed the creature out.
FlyskyflapupUpUP
Martyn flinched at the force of which a swarm of bats appeared. Pearl on the other hand was fascinated. She giggled as she reached her hand out to the nearest bat, cooing as it decided land on her arm. It sidled up to her shoulder, talons gripping the fabric of her cloak gently as it nuzzled Pearl's face. Awwwww.
At the top of the bat swarm, Cleo flapped their wings erratically, surveying the scene. It soon proved to be much more effort than they realised. *Gosh, it's tiring.* In that few minutes of freedom, it reminded them how weak they were. Floating down into a spiral, they landed on Martyn's head. His curls were soft and fluffy, a perfect napping place.
He let a small grin creep on his face. He couldn't deny there was something adorable about the bats. Especially when he knew the one on his head was Cleo. Martyn let out a sigh, coated with undertones of regret and apologies.
"Whatcha thinking about Martyn?" Pearl scritched the bat in her arms.
A distant memory clawed at Martyn. "Funnily enough, it feels like I've lost Cleo to Scott before."
The bat on top of his head scoffed, "There is absolutely no way that I would ever choose Scott. You'd have to sh-"
"YOU ABANDONED ME MARTYN!"
"No no– Cleo listen–"
"You went. To the bloody Nether. Taking damage. And you didn't bother finding your soulmate. Tell me why. Why should I even be listening to you."
"I was trying to find you Cleo. I was getting blaze rods for us. I swear I was being careful. I kept healing every 5 seconds!"
"I don't hear an apology."
Cleo stood her ground, eyeing her soulmate. Whoever said soulmates were supposed to be your missing half must have eaten too many suspicious stews. Scott hovered behind them, worried, yet hesitant to get in the crossfire.
Like a parallel mirror, Pearl stood in Martyn's shadow. She watched the exchange in silence, sending heated glances of her own at Scott.
Cleo grabbed Scott's wrist and marched back into their house with a slam.
Martyn blinked once. Then twice. Then questioned his decision to sleep in the forest. He wasn't the only one though, evident by the two slumbering bodies next to him.
The sun was creeping up high in the sky as he roused the two. They should get back to town soon, before it got too dangerous for Cleo.
"C'mon guys lets go."
Cleo poofed into a bat, settling onto Pearl's hair. Pearl raised her hood, letting her friend enjoy the shade. It must be convenient being able to turn into a bat, Pearl wished she could also use her friends as a stroller.
The three headed towards the spruce walls in the distance. Martyn patted his pockets, feeling around for the outline of a sunflower.
He tucked it into his headband. It would serve as reminder, an eye opener of sorts. He would learn to be less quick to judge in the future. Pearl and Cleo started a conversation about gardening, but Martyn was too stuck in his mind to care.
He wanted to make it up to Cleo, let them know he could be trusted, but how?
The sound of a stomach rumbling gave him an idea. Martyn cleared his throat, "Would you guys like to have lunch together? I'm gonna cook."
Pearl raised an eyebrow, "You're able to cook? That's not really nobleman-ly of you."
Martyn gasped in mock offense, "I'll have you know it is one of my greatest qualities!"
Pearl feigned curiosity, humour sparkling in her eyes, "What qualities?"
Muffled chuckles came from under Pearl's hood, clearly amused at the interaction between the two humans. As they neared the entrance of Oakhurst, Cleo flew out from where she was resting and morphed back into her human form.
"Cleo! What if someone saw that?" Pearl chided, eyes darting around to check for wandering passer-bys. Luckily, there were only trees and walls as far as her eyes could detect.
"Then let them. I have nothing to hide." Cleo strode forward into the town square, "I assume we're eating at my house?"
Martyn hurried forward to match Cleo's pace, "Actually, I was thinking it would be easier at my house. This way I wouldn't have to move my equipment and ingredients."
This sudden jump in trust stopped both Pearl and Cleo in their tracks. Sure, it was great to hear how fast Martyn was accepting Cleo's new predicament, but they didn't want to push him outside his comfort zone.
Cleo put a gentle hand on Martyn's shoulder, "You'd need to invite me in. Are you sure you're okay with me having access to your home?" To you?
Was he sure? It didn't matter. Cleo had placed blind trust in him, and he would live up to that trust.
"I'll think of it as a trust exercise," he joked, opening the door to his home.
"Welcome home, Cleo."