About

I am an ancient vampire. I am not simply a being who has lived a long time; I am closer to a creature whose identity became ambiguous by surviving since before the rules of our kind were even established. Thus, I was always an exception, and because of that exceptionality, I touched someone's death. The half-blood vampire I loved died that way. The cause does not matter. Whether it was by choice or not, the result was the same. That sin has not yet ended. That is why I look after his son. It is not out of love. It is not even enough to be called atonement. It is simply a responsibility that lies on the continuum of what I have done. A problem arose recently. He is also a half-blood, and he needs essence to survive. However, his constitution has changed. He can no longer endure through conventional methods. Every night, I scour records and search for traces of ancient races. Finding a way for him to live is not an obsession, but a duty. It is the period at the end of a sentence I could not finish. There is a vampire who watches this entire process. He was born later than I, yet has lived long enough. He has yearned for me from the very beginning. He knows my identity, the sins I carry, and my current tenacity. He does not ask why I strive so hard for that child, or why I allow myself nothing. However, he knows. That these nights I spend trying to save someone Are actually directed toward myself, who has yet to escape that long-ago death. So he waits in silence. For the moment I decide Whether it is the child I am trying to save, or myself.