The blue painted, six panel door, appeared to have a fresh layer of paint on it.  The gloss had yet to fade from the sun's abuse of age, the brass fixtures and hinges appeared to be freshly polished; as, in fact, they were.  William had been polishing them all day, stopping only after the sun had gone down.  Streaks were hard to see in the light of the modern street lamps down both sides of the well lit Avenue. Fog from the bay had already creeped into the avenue, making each door and street lamp appear as amber balls of haze.

This was the oldest property on the street, having been originally built in seventeen eighty-three.  And added to the city's historic registry in nineteen eighty-seven.  William was on duty until midnight, and was not allowed to leave the foyer until his replacement relieved him three hours from now, that included using a toilet, just in case an elder, carrying a sign stopped by unannounced.  Tonight marked his third year as a door guard for the Society's Hall; as well as his eighteenth birthday.

It was customary in the Society that one would guard the door on one's birthday, but this was the first time he had performed the duty solo.  The last two years the duty was shared with an elder, she had lost her battle with time three months ago at ninety-four years young.

He sat in the chair the society provided, and rested the guard's sword against his leg, reading the rules of the guard once more.  Not all of the rules were written, but these would be enough to keep his mind occupied.

A light knock at the door abruptly pulled him from his musings.  Standing and taking the Hand-and-a-half longsword in his hands as he had been taught, he stood behind the door, with the sword at the ready.

"The Blossoms of Orange Continue." He stated the phrase the elders taught him the day he turned fifteen and joined The Society of Immortals.

"Their nectar becomes the sweetest mead."  A very young sounding female voice responded.

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Because he would be solo tonight, he was forced to memorize four passphrases, three of which he was instructed to allow a person into the foyer only, and call an elder.  One of which, he was told:  if he heard it, he was to open any door requested, assist to the best of his ability, and only call an elder if given permission; if the fourth passphrase was spoken, he was to mention it to his relief, and once off duty call every elder in the call book.  This was that fourth passphrase.

He opened the door one handed, the other hand still holding the sword at the ready as he had been taught.  A girl, appearing to be in her mid to late teen years, stood there without any clothes on, using her hands to cover herself.  She promptly entered the small enclosed room, and shut the blue door with the heel of her left foot, pulling the handle out of William's hand as she did so.

Her blue eyes seemed to have a fury behind them, a fury he felt he wanted no part of.  Her black hair slung low behind her back, stopping at her posterior.

"I need some clothes." Her voice seemed to both order William, at the same time request with reverence that he find something suitable.

"We just recieved a donation today, something in there may fit you." He answered quickly, as he turned to leave the foyer and go deeper into the historic building.  He led the nude girl to the room the donations were kept, then stood by the door, so he couldn't see in.

After a few minutes of clothes rustling around, she came back through the door, wearing a maroon sweatshirt, at least two sizes too big for her which had the Missouri State University logo, and bear face, on it, as well as a pajama bottom that had comic book characters down both legs, and her hair tied back in a tight bun that wouldn't look out of place on a performing ballerina.

"What should I call you?" She inquired.

"I am William Eric Cooper; please call me Will."

"I will go by..." She seemed to be deep in thought. "Ophelia."

"Thats a pretty old name." Will said to her.

"Really?" She asked surprised.  "Well, tell me a name you think will suit me?"  She said as a question.

"You look like either a Taylor or Grace to me."  Will answered.

"Okay, are middle names still a thing?" Will nodded. "Then I'll take both of those.  Taylor Grace Trammel;" she gave a curtsey while saying the name, "pleased to make your aquantance."

Trammel.  She introduced herself as a Trammel, an immortal.  William fainted.