--- Epilogue --- Michael’s funeral is a small ceremony. We drive by the farm on the way to my manor, Mina waits in the car while I carry his remains to the trunk. She does not wish to see him, which suits me well since I do not want her to see him – not like this. We hire a minister to perform the ceremony and have Michael buried next to his mother, a two hour ride away from the farm. I learn that her name was Ann McBrair, and that she died of cancer. Mina does not say anything else, and I do not ask. Still I do not know how Mina is taking all this. Her grief over her brother’s death and not knowing whether her father lives or not is one thing; but cooping with Rebirth outside the Asylaum, while dealing with the other two is another. She is resting downstairs. Meanwhile, I am sitting on my rooftop, taking in the beauty of nature. I am wearing a red velvet coat, having given up on my leather coats after having lost two within a week. It is a bit colder, but it looks less depressing. I put it on for Mina’s sake – it is her favourite colour. It is a lovely morning. I expect the small sunrays that shortly will spread over London. I still have half an hour or so. It has been a long night – and a long week. Down on the street, I see the mailman struggle through the snow. He must be carrying my Daily Inquirer. I envy him; a walk seems like a pleasant thing to do right now. I startle him at my mailbox by swinging the door open and greet him a good morning. He chuckles kindly and wishes me the same. I close the door behind me, locking it carefully though knowing that Mina is a lot safer now than last time she paid me a visit. Walking on the sidewalk, I realise why the mailman found it so troublesome to move; the ground is hidden deeply under a thick layer of snow. Walking in it is too much of a nuisance. I climb my neighbours’ rooftop instead, knowing that they are still fast asleep. Leaping rooftops is truly the fastest way to get around in London. I know exactly where I am going. Sitting quietly, I admire night being chased away by morning. If I am not indoors within fifteen minutes I will be admiring it as a pile of dust. I do not bother to worry about it – I will be home in time. Then I will have a good day’s sleep before leaving London and the Asylaum behind me. There is just one thing I need to see once more before I leave; the Big Ben. Sarthimia’s offer is still unbelievable to me, to think that I would be a suitable leader to a race that wanted me dead even before I killed two of its leaders. No, I have to leave. Though I am feeling slightly distraught that I am leaving my home and Jackston behind, I feel that it is the right thing to do. I have served my purpose in this godforsaken city long enough. And yet, I cannot keep from wondering: was Sarthimia right when she said that the Asylaum will crumble in my absence? I am more than certain that it would do so, should I stay, and more importantly; it would take me down with it in its fall. The snow crunches behind me, pressed together beneath her feet. I do not need to turn around to know that her white robe is a poor contrast to the stunning snow. Instead, I fix my eyes on the magnificent structure created by man. She stands there silently, admiring the building with me. Obviously she has not come to persuade me, but to say farewell, in her own cold and solemn way – completely in silence. After five minutes I hear the snow crunch again and know that she is leaving. Without removing my eyes from the clock tower I give her these simple words which will shape my life for years to come: “I’ll do it.” She nods gratefully, only to be gone a second later. I wished for her to stay, to sit down and admire the city with me – the city which will be my home for years to come. My new title frightens me slightly; it is a heavy burden to bear. But if Sarthimia is right, and the Brethren and the Lords do fear me; I expect this task to still be harder than anything I have ever done before – and even more painful than being tortured by Ariane. Hopefully, it will be worth it, and I will prove useful. She is right, by the way. Fear has motivated me to obey the Lords for centuries – perhaps it is time for me to put fear into them. --- We are sitting on a rooftop, observing the clock tower of magnificent size that the humans are attempting to construct. Human technology has truly gotten far this last century. Though the construction site lies empty now, during night, I can hear the humans work eagerly from early morning to late evening as they erect the monument of their arrogance. Their hammers are heard echoing even in my newly purchased manor, which I find myself taking great pride in. London is a stunning city, despite its noise and constant growth. I expect myself to be staying here for many years to come. My Sire yawns next to me, hinting that it is time to head back home. Though I concur and though the time is late; I feel a great desire to remain on this very spot during daytime to witness the humans construct their shrine. Knowing that it would cost me dearly to do so, I get to my feet. My Sire joins me within moments. Climbing down the rooftop, he turns to the construction site. I notice him drift off into his mind, as if daydreaming. “Do you know what this is, Théodore?” he asks distantly. “No, Sire.” “This,” he says, pointing dramatically at the scenery unravelling before us, “is a time of change.” --- I close my front door behind me just as the first rays of sunlight caress the frozen city of London. I hear Mina breathing on the second floor; she is not asleep anymore. I gather that she has engulfed herself in my library. Soon I will tell her about the change of plans – that she can call London home for a while longer than expected, but first I think of something, a memory of past – the few words that changed everything. Why they come to me now, I do not know, but I find myself repeating them quietly to myself before joining Mina in her reading session. “It’s a time of change.”
--- Chapters Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
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