Prologue: And There Shall Be Another
(the angel's words come from A Thousand and One Nights. It has been altered to befit Renesmee.)

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those that have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...And either must die by the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives...The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...And there shall be another... Born just before the ides of the ninth month, born of both worlds, out of Cold and Flesh, with bronze mane like Leo and blood in her eye...Marked by Celestia in Blessing...Who will bite with viper's bite...She will be a wellspring of life and hope...Yet also more poisonous than nightshade...Such is the two edged sword of the weapon who will vanquish the Other Dark Lord...And through blood, vanquish Death."

-The Prophecy

It was a cold, dreary, and strangely oppressive day. The sunlight was week, the air biting. The sky over town was overcast, soon to be superseded by thunder and lightning. A woman hurried down the street, cloak billowing around her frame. She eventually came to a house on the outskirts of town. She stepped up onto the front porch and fumbled to get inside.

Once inside, she threw her cloak off and hung it on the wall. "Renee," she called softly, words coming out in a rush. Silence. "Renee!" Soft padding was audible overhead. A minute or so later, a little brown haired, blue-eyed girl appeared. She was a small child, older than two but younger than five. She was using her small fist to rub the grogginess from her eyes.

"Momma," she moaned. Her mother swiftly moved towards her, picking her up and walking into the next room to lay her on the couch. She went into the kitchen and took a glass phial out of the cabinet. She poured the substance inside into a glass of water. The mixture turned a shade of lilac. She then took the glass back in to the small girl. She helped her sit up and made sure the child drank the liquid to the last drop. She held the girl for a minute. "Momma," she whispered, as her eyes grew misty and her head lolled to the side. Her breathing slowed as sleep overtook her. The woman began to sob. She grasped the locket she wore in her hands and whispered, "Angel, hear my cry." At first nothing happened, and the woman gave up hope and began to drown in her despair.

"Dry your tears, Marie Higginbotham," a voice whispered. Marie's head snapped up. The temperature had dropped considerably. The voice sounded like a gentle breeze over the water. Someone else was in the room with Marie. The figure was completely clothed in white. It was an albino woman whose hair was pale silver. Her eyes were a deep violet, her face was heart-shaped, and she wore a circlet of white Easter Lilies. Soft, white wings glimmering with specks of frost were folded softly against her back. She smelled of ice, ash, and the wild places of the night. Marie jumped up, pulling out her wand as she stood defensively in front of her daughter. Voice quavering, she asked, "Who are you?"

The being before her answered calmly, "You called upon me, did you not, daughter of the house of Norgensten? You know who I am, for your ancestors allied themselves with angels long ago. Your ancestor, Sarahphina, pleaded with Heaven for assistance. There was an evil wizard in her Time, too. She summoned me with a ritual now lost. I came to her, and in the gold bowl that your family has held sacred, mixed our blood together. I gave her that locket, to pass on to whosoever was in need, as long as the same blood flowed through their veins."

"Celestia," Marie breathed in amazement," I thought that all legend, a nice bedtime story. I didn't realize that in calling your name I would summon you. The action was merely one of comfort." The angel's head tilted to the side, curiosity evident in her gaze.
"I only come when my aid is truly needed, Daughter. If I had not felt your distress, I would not have appeared. Tell me what it is you need."

"Oh, Celestia," the woman began, "I want you to wash the magic out of Renee's veins."
"I cannot do that, Marie, and you know that. You are born either with or without magic. I am not God; I could never take away the right your blood affords you."

"Then what can I do? Is all hope lost?"
The angel hesitated. "I can suppress her magic and make her blind to your world. She will never show signs, never See. She will live as if she were anyone else."
"Do it then! If it will save her from the Dark Lord and her father, do it, and to her child as well."

"What if she does not wish it," the angel proposed quietly. "So be it," Marie said bitterly. "She will be saved from the Darkness, cruelty, and lies."

The angel shook her head sadly. "Darkness does not always equate to evil, just as Light does not always bring good. Magic and nature are both cruel and loving, Light and Dark, fulfilling and deceitful, all at once. I will fulfill your wish, but know this; it will wear off down the line. The magic will flow from your daughter and be passed on. There shall be one born, kin of your kin, who will hold great power because of Renee's sacrifice, and the sacrifice of her child. Listen to my prophecy, and listen well."

The angel came forward to grasp Marie's hand, and also one of the child's. Her voice richened and sweetened as she spoke.

"She comes like fullest moon on happy night,
Taper of waist with shape of magic might.
She hath an eye whose glances quell mankind,
And ruby on her cheeks reflects His light.
Enveils her hips the goldenness of her hair-
Beware of curls that bite with viper bite!
Her sides are silken-soft, that while the heart
Mere rock behind that surface 'scapes our sight.
From the fringed curtains of her eyne she shoots
Shafts that at furthest range on mark alight."

When she was done, she released her hold on Marie. Stunned, the woman asked,"Angel, what does this mean?"
"It will come to pass as I have said. The prophecy shall never leave you. My voice has carved the words into your heart, and your daughter's as well. Though she will remember it not, her blood will carry the message to The One."

She then leaned down to kiss Renee on each cheek and her forehead while steadily stroking her hair and chanting in a language the witch beside her knew to be Latin, though she could not speak it. Renee's eyes moved underneath her lids and she let out a small sigh. Celestia straightened up, dropping the child's hand. "There, it is done. Her child would have been stronger than she, given the chance. In the absence of magic, she will become a strong psychic shield."
"Thank you, angel."
The angel's cool gaze swept her, as if seeing her soul.
"Good-bye, Marie. Take care of her."

A radiant white light filled the room. When it dimmed, the angel was gone, however, her scent lingered. And so it began. Many years later, The One was born; Renesmee Cullen was born.