»—— act five. breaking dawn, part two
☽⋅──FIVE──ciel's gift─⋅☾

Alice estimated that the Volturi would arrive in a little over a a few months, leaving the family with precious little time to prepare. The realization sparked a heated discussion about who they could reach out to and how quickly allies could be gathered.

Seth immediately informed both Jacob's and Sam's packs. With the twins being considered part of the family—thanks to Seth's bond with them—both packs agreed to assist however they could. Their unwavering support offered some comfort amidst the growing tension.

As the family gathered to strategize, Alice shared more troubling details. "The Volturi are aware of our alliance with the wolves," she explained, her tone grim. "This makes it even more important to secure as much support as possible."

The room fell silent for a moment before Alice broke it. "So, which friends can we gather?" she asked, looking to Carlisle.

Carlisle let out a heavy sigh. "Friends we might be sentenced to death," he said, his voice heavy with guilt.

"We're not forcing anyone," Emmett chimed in, attempting to lighten the sombre mood. "We'll let them decide. No one has to fight if they don't want to."

Eve reached out, placing a comforting hand on Carlisle's arm. "We have to try," she said softly, her eyes filled with determination.

"We'll need a substantial number of witnesses," Rosalie said, her voice sharp and fragile.

Alice nodded, seemingly unfazed by Rosalie's tone. "We can ask our friends to stand as witnesses. That's all."

"They'd do the same for us," Emmett said.

"We have to approach them carefully," Alice added. Her expression turned distant, her eyes dark and unfocused. "They'll need to see the truth very clearly."

"See what?" Jasper asked.

Alice and Edward both glanced at Celeste, who was playing quietly with Ciel in the corner. Alice's gaze turned vacant once more. "Tanya's family," she began. "Siobhan's coven. Amun's. Some of the nomads—Garrett and Mary, definitely. Possibly Alistair."

Carlisle's attention sharpened at the last name. He glanced at Eve, trying to gauge her reaction. Ever since hearing the description of Eve's father from her dreams, Carlisle had wondered if Alistair could be the man in question. Yet Eve showed no reaction to the name.

Celeste suddenly stood and smiled. "Ciel can show them," she said, her words drawing the family's attention.

At the sound of his name, Ciel looked up. The family knew Celeste was gifted, and Eve suspected Ciel might be as well, though he had yet to demonstrate any abilities.

"What do you mean, Celeste?" Eve asked, kneeling to meet her daughter's eyes.

Celeste grinned. "Mommy, you know. We've visited you in your dreams before."

Eve blinked in surprise. "So, you do remember that," she said softly.

Celeste hummed in confirmation and gestured for Ciel to join her. Carlisle also knelt as Ciel approached. Without a word, Ciel raised his hands to touch his parents' cheeks.

As Ciel's small hands rested against their cheeks, Carlisle and Eve were suddenly pulled into a vivid vision. It unfolded like a stream of memories, each one was as clear and vibrant as if they were living it in real time.

At first, they saw the twins before their birth, tiny and fragile, their forms taking shape within Eve's womb. The scene shifted, showing Carlisle and Eve together, standing side by side as they observed the progress of their unborn children with awe and wonder. Eve's hands rested protectively over her growing belly, and Carlisle's expression was a mixture of pride, amazement, and deep affection.

The vision lingered on these moments, emphasizing the undeniable bond between the twins and their mother. The evidence was irrefutable—they were not created by any unnatural means but were born from Eve herself, a miraculous blending of both their parents' essences.

The imagery flowed seamlessly to the day of their birth. Eve lay pale and exhausted but alive, her body bearing the signs of the struggle she endured to bring them into the world. Carlisle was by her side, his hands steady but trembling slightly as he worked tirelessly to ensure both Eve and the newborns survived the ordeal.

Then, through a shift in perspective, the vision revealed the world as seen through Ciel's own eyes. His gaze was innocent and unblemished, his view framed by the warmth and light of his first moments. He looked up at Carlisle, whose face was filled with awe and relief, then turned to Eve, who managed a faint but loving smile despite her weakness.

The memory lingered on the connection in those moments—the way Ciel recognized his parents even in those first fragile seconds of life. There was a purity in the vision, an undeniable truth that reinforced the depth of their bond. It wasn't just a biological connection but something deeper, rooted in love, sacrifice, and the shared miracle of their existence.

As the vision faded, Carlisle and Eve were left with an overwhelming sense of warmth and clarity, the memory etched into their minds as if they had just lived it. Ciel lowered his hands and looked up at them, his quiet gaze carrying a wisdom far beyond his years, as though he understood exactly what he had shared. Celeste stood nearby, smiling knowingly, her bright eyes flickering between her parents and her brother as if waiting for their reactions.

Edward, who had been silently observing, suddenly furrowed his brows as a wave of understanding crossed his face. By tapping into Carlisle and Eve's minds, he had seen the vision just as vividly as they had. His sharp eyes flickered toward Ciel, studying the young boy with a newfound intensity.

"Is it tactile thought projection?" Edward mused aloud, his voice tinged with both curiosity and intrigue. The idea seemed plausible—Ciel's touch had clearly been the catalyst for the vision, and Edward's own ability had allowed him to witness it indirectly.

The family turned to Edward, their expressions shifting from awe to thoughtful consideration.

"Tactile thought projection?" Carlisle echoed, intrigued by the term.

Edward nodded, glancing between Ciel and Celeste. "It's the ability to project thoughts or memories directly into another person's mind through physical touch. It's rare, but it would explain how he was able to show you both those memories so vividly."

Eve's gaze softened as she looked at her son, her heart swelling with both pride and wonder. "It makes sense," she said quietly. "Ciel has always been so quiet, but maybe he's been holding onto this gift all along."

Celeste beamed, clearly delighted by her brother's ability being recognized. "I told you he could show them," she said triumphantly.

Jasper tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "But if it's true, that's an incredibly powerful gift. To share memories with such clarity... it's more than just showing—it's like making someone experience it themselves."

Rosalie crossed her arms, her expression guarded but intrigued. "And he used it to prove something important," she murmured, her tone softer than usual. "That has to mean something."

Edward nodded again, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It does. It means Ciel's gift is not only extraordinary but might also be the key to convincing others of the truth when words aren't enough."

Carlisle, still recovering from the depth of the vision, placed a hand on Ciel's shoulder. "You've given us something priceless, son," he said, his voice full of warmth. "And perhaps the best chance we have at showing others what they need to see."

Ciel didn't say a word, but his quiet smile was enough to convey that he understood the weight of what he had just done.

Celeste hummed softly, breaking the momentary silence. "Ciel can also travel in dreams," she said, glancing at her brother. "And I can join him. But since not everyone sleeps, we can only visit people who can."

Eleanor's gaze lingered on Ciel, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. She wondered if the older male figure she had seen before waking from her transformation had been Ciel. The thought made her hesitate, but she chose not to voice it. In the end, it didn't matter—thanks to him, she had been pulled from the nightmare.

"So," Rosalie said, exhaling deeply, "we have a way to possibly convince them."

"That mean's we can focus on who to gather, What about Peter and Charlotte?" Jasper asked, continuing to consider their allies.

"Maybe," Alice responded, her tone thoughtful.

"The Amazons?" Carlisle asked. "Kachiri, Zafrina, and Senna?"

Alice seemed lost in her visions, her gaze distant and unfocused. She shuddered slightly before her eyes snapped back to the present. Meeting Carlisle's gaze for a fleeting moment, she then looked down.

"I can't see," she said, her voice quiet.

"What was that?" Edward demanded, his whisper sharp and urgent. "That part in the jungle—are we going to look for them?"

"I can't see," Alice repeated, still not meeting his eyes. A flicker of confusion crossed Edward's face.

"We'll have to split up and hurry—before the snow sticks to the ground," Alice continued, her voice growing more strained. "We need to round up whomever we can and bring them here. They need to see for themselves." Her focus wavered again. "Ask Eleazar. There's more to this than just an immortal child."

Her words hung in the air, thick with an unspoken urgency. The silence stretched ominously as Alice stood frozen in her trance. When she finally blinked, it was slow and deliberate, her eyes still strangely opaque.

"There is so much. We have to hurry," she whispered, almost to herself.

"Alice?" Edward pressed. "That was too fast—I didn't understand. What was—"

"I can't see!" she snapped, her frustration breaking through. "Some of the pack is almost here!"

Rosalie took a step toward the front door. "I'll deal with—"

"No," Alice interrupted quickly, her voice rising. "Let them come. But I need to leave. I'll see better away from the twins. I have to focus. I need to see everything I can."

Grabbing Jasper's hand, she yanked impatiently. "Come on, Jasper, there's no time to waste!"

Jasper followed her, his confusion mirrored in Edward's expression. Without another word, they darted out into the silvery night.

"Hurry!" Alice called back. "You have to find them all!"

Celeste watched her sister leave, her knowing gaze betraying no surprise. She sensed Alice wouldn't return soon but chose to trust her. Turning back to the family, she found them still reeling with uncertainty.

Eve sighed, standing up. "So, we have possible witnesses. But when should we go?"

Carlisle rose beside her, taking her hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "For now, since it's late, we'll start as early as tomorrow. And we should wait for Alice to return."

Eve nodded, and the others exchanged glances of agreement.

Eleanor stepped out into the cool night, her sharp senses picking up the sounds of the approaching pack. The faint rustle of leaves and the rhythmic beat of paws on the forest floor drew closer, their presence a subtle but potent reassurance. As she moved toward them, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminated her path, casting long shadows across the ground.

Inside, Eve and Carlisle carefully ushered the twins to their rooms. Celeste clung to her mother's hand, her usual confidence tinged with the unspoken weight of the evening's events. Ciel, ever silent, walked beside his father, his wide eyes scanning the dimly lit halls as though sensing the tension in the air.

Carlisle lingered by the doorway of their room after tucking them in, his gaze soft as he watched the twins settle under the covers. Eve brushed a gentle kiss on each of their foreheads, her touch lingering as though drawing strength from their presence.

The house grew quiet, the muffled voices and movement fading until only the faint creak of the floorboards and the occasional whisper of wind outside could be heard. Uneasy stillness hung in the air, heavy with anticipation.

In the living room, Rosalie and Emmett sat side by side, their hands intertwined, while Edward paced silently, his brow furrowed, his mind racing with half-formed plans and unresolved fears.

The family was acutely aware of what awaited them—a confrontation not merely for their survival, but for justice, for the chance to protect their place in a world that often sought to destroy what it could not comprehend. The looming threat was not just about the fight but the unshakable need to defend their truth, their unity, and the fragile peace they had carved out in their lives.

Each member bore their own weight of doubts and fears. Carlisle, the steady patriarch, silently wrestled with the impossible decisions ahead. Eve, torn between her maternal instincts and the need to face the storm, found herself drawing strength from the family she had built. Edward's mind was a relentless tide of strategies and worries, while Rosalie's determination burned like a fierce flame, protective and unwavering.

Emmett's usual humour was subdued, his strength reserved for the battles to come. Jasper, keenly attuned to the emotions swirling around him, bore the unease of his family as his own. Eleanor stood firm, her resolve hardening with every moment, while Alice's absence was a palpable void, her warnings echoing in their minds.

Even the youngest among them, Celeste and Ciel, seemed to sense the gravity of the situation, their usually vibrant energy now quieter, more introspective.

Despite their individual fears and uncertainties, they faced the future as one. Bound by love, loyalty, and a shared purpose, they prepared themselves for the storm gathering just beyond the horizon—a storm that would test not only their strength but the unshakable bonds that made them a family.