Aidan

The journey to Genoa was long. They mostly traveled at night, because James couldn't stand sunlight yet. It would take him a few more decades to get used to it. But they enjoyed the changes in landscape and architecture along the roads of France.

Sometimes, when James was sleeping during the day, Aidan wandered in the streets or the countryside surrounding the inns they had chosen. And when he was back with James, he tried to reproduce all the colors imprinted in his memory on his canvases.

He felt better. He had been right. He needed this breath of fresh air, these new horizons. And the curiosity and the joy in James' eyes warmed his heart. They could have gone anywhere, but Aidan knew it meant a lot to James to see the city of his sire. It was, after all, a goal as good as any.

For Aidan, the trip in itself was the aim, not the destination. He wanted to feel alive, to feel in control of his life, to explore who he could be. It had always been the question: who was he if he was not limited by his nature as a vampire? Who was he if he was not defined by the identity Stanislas had assigned to him? Who was he if his actions were not influenced by human blood?

Aidan found some elements of response when he lost himself in a conversation with James. Sometimes he just forgot for a moment he had all these doubts while he just dived into arguing with his friend. They talked more on the road than they ever had in the quietness of their houses in London. New experiences and new images generated new topics, new memories to share, and new questions to ask. It was less about their pain and the dramatic events of their lives and more about the joys of the present. And this was very new for Aidan.

Because of that, they stayed away from other vampires, or from any supernatural creatures, not exactly to deny what they were - even if sometimes it could feel like it - but mostly because they wanted to preserve what they had and not take the risk to be caught in the net of violence and drama again.

When they finally arrived in Genoa, it was nothing like they had imagined. James was amazed by the boats Isabella had talked to him about and Aidan by the grey and white patterns of lines on the façade of the cathedral, both by the splendor of the Palazzo Bianco.

"Do you know where she lived?" Aidan asked.

"No, but she loved the sea. I think I should find a place near the water."

James wanted to honor the memory of Isabella and he had brought with him one of her favorite rings he wanted to bring back here, where she had once belonged. Wandering in the city at night, they found a perfect spot, lightened by the moonlight. Listening to the sound of the waves, they stood together in front of the sea.

James took a step forward. "I'm finally here, Isabella. I see now why you loved this city. It's complex, elegant, and full of life, as you were. I..." His voice broke. "I wanted to thank you for all you've done for me. You saved my life. You show me how it felt to be loved. You supported me. You taught me so much. I know I lost my way for a while. You would have kicked my ass for acting as I did if you had been there. I know that. And I'm sorry. You know, it was hard... without you." He took a deep breath. "But I'm better now. And I'm not alone any longer. You don't have to worry about me. I miss you. I love you." And he threw the ring into the water.

As he didn't move, Aidan came closer to him and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. And James smiled.