The four of them sat in that room for hours, none of them saying anything as their thoughts ran rampant with possibilities. This was uncharted territory for all of them, which was cause for concern – Lawrence had been agreeable enough so far, Alain supposed, but there was always the chance that this was just a pretense. Then again, he had to admit that didn't make much sense – after all, none of them were responsible for what had happened in Los Banos, and Lawrence seemed to know it. Eventually, though, the door to the room opened, and Lawrence stepped in.

"Alain Smith, come with me," was all he had to say. Lawrence began to turn around but paused. He stared at Sable with a look of minor amusement, which she returned with a glare of her own. "Do not worry – even if he were to upset your judges, we will be returning him to you shortly. Your Thrall will not be harmed during any of this, you have my word."

Satisfied with himself, Lawrence's attention was directed once again to Alain before leaving the cell. He motioned for Alain to follow after him, then began to step out. All Alain could do was give the others a shrug before following suit.

The two walked for several minutes, passing by several closed doors and hallways. Occasionally, they passed a pair of guards blocking a door; Alain couldn't help but note that they looked more like statues than anything in their surprisingly fancy outfits – it reminded him of an old-fashioned military unit more than anything. Their demeanor only reinforced that thought – the only thing that moved was their eyes, never blinking and always directed at him. Alain forced himself to refrain from allowing his hand to drift to his holstered Colt as he passed yet another set of statuesque guards.

He didn't expect them to try anything, and even if they did, he doubted he'd make it out alive. But he could at least empty his revolver's cylinder and take one or two down with him if that were to happen. Lawrence eventually stopped, with Alain nearly stumbling into him. A sly smirk crossed the vampire's face, which his amusement, but no words were exchanged between them. The door ahead of them opened by itself, slowly revealing a large, dimly lit room. Alain took a deep breath, adjusted his belt, and walked in.

The room was larger than anticipated. It had vaulted ceilings that scraped to the top of the mountain where windows were placed to allow diffused light to come in along with fresh air. The architecture was ornate and confusing; the closest Alain had come to recognizing any of it was from a lithograph of The Notre Dame shown at a world's fair he'd once attended long ago. In the center of the room were three stone thrones, built to loom downward to the entryway. Each seat was occupied by a person in black robes; they reminded Alain of his Sunday schooling back home more than anything.

As if he needed yet another sign that this was likely going to end poorly for him.

"The facade of your world and ours has been breached," one of the figures, the only woman among the group of three, said. Her eyes were red but with blonde hair, just like Sable's; however, the streaks of gray throughout betrayed her age. How old she was supposed to be, Alain had no idea, but given that Sable was apparently several hundred years old, this woman had to be even older than she appeared. She had an accent that Alain couldn't place, but it sounded like she may have been from the East Coast. "We three will divine the truth from you, and you will not resist," she added.

Alain looked over the other two. They were both men, one of them with a pencil-thin mustache and hair slicked with oil. If it weren't for the Bishop's outfit, he could have looked like someone who owned a bank or a fancy restaurant. The other was less of a man, and more of a frail wrinkle. Marred with age, his eyes were milky blue and his vision looked distant. His face looked somewhat alert, but otherwise seemed to be concentrating on something else.

"State your name," said the lucid man, a thick French accent permeating from his lips. "Do include any surnames, titles, or honors you have been given."

"Uh, Alain Smith? I don't have any titles. Hell, I don't even have a middle name," he said, trying to warm up to the three.

Without warning, his entire body suddenly froze, leaving unable to move a muscle. A heat began to build up within him; it was like he was back in the Arizona desert, only somehow, it was flaring up from inside him. He winced out of discomfort more than anything; it was painful, of course, but it felt more like a bad sunburn more than anything debilitating. Still, it was highly uncomfortable, enough that, had he been able to do so, he would have shouted. As fast as the pain flared up, though, it dissipated completely.

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He fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of him for a moment as he struggled back to his feet. The three seemed nonplussed, as if he didn't just act like he'd been punched in the gut. Alain took several breaths to steel himself. Whatever had just happened, it was clear to him now that the Tribunal were not people he wanted to be messing with, even with the gun on his hip. No doubt they had something that could kill him before he could even get a shot off.

No, he was going to have to play their game if he didn't want to suffer through whatever they'd just done to him for a second time.

"May I know the names of my accusers at least?" He asked. A wince escaped him in anticipation of what he was sure would be more pain, but nothing came.

"We accuse you of nothing yet, unless you wish to confess something to us," the woman said. "I am Thorne. The man who asked you your name is Julius, and our esteemed elder Owen is presiding over this talk in a more passive fashion. Now, tell me of your master and her butler."

Alain took a step back in confusion "My master? I'm not a servant, if that's what you think, ma'am. Sable hired me as an escort."

"And how did they commission you for this job?" Julius questioned.

"A diamond about the size of my fist. I was to take them from San Francisco to Sacramento. Los Banos was a simple stop since it's a well-known place for people to rest and restock on goods before traveling farther north. It was supposed to be a simple job, but… well, you three know how it ended already. Hence why I'm here now."

"Indeed," Owen said dryly. ""Do you have the diamond with you now?"

Alain reached into his pocket and retrieved the small jewelry box, then tossed it to the Adjudicator, who caught it and opened it. He appraised it for a moment, then passed it around so the others could look at it.

"Quite the pay for a simple escort mission," Thorne pointed out as she tossed the box back to him.

Alain shrugged. "I didn't dig any deeper. They held the diamond in front of my face; I knew better than to ask any questions about it."

"And they never mentioned where that jewel was from?"

"No."

"You may want to take a closer look at it, then."

Alain's heart skipped a beat. He opened the box and retrieved the gem, turning it around in his hand as he held it up to the light. As he did so, he noticed something he hadn't seen before – a small inscription of some letters etched into the side.

"C and S," he said. "What does that mean?"

"It is short for Clan Sable," Thorne explained.

"Clan…?" A thought occurred to him in the moment, and he looked back to the Adjudicators, surprise crossing his face. "Sable did mention a sister at some point…"

"You know her as Sable," Owen said. "But while we kept you all confined in that room, I had Lawrence do some digging around in our records. We keep track of every vampire clan's lineage as they are created or pass away. I figured her name sounded familiar, and I was correct – Sable is her clan name; her first name is Lilith. Does that information mean anything to you?"

"No, it doesn't."

"It shouldn't unless she told you. After all, you are newly exposed to this side of the Veil." Owen shook his head. "Clan Sable is the most powerful clan in Romania. They were led by Lilith's parents, until her sister Cleo killed them and usurped their positions. She was cooperative for a while, but recently, Romania has gone dark. We have sent envoys to try and make contact with her once again, but none have returned."

"Respectfully, what does that have to do with what happened in Los Banos?" Alain asked. "This seems unrelated."

"We are trying to establish why Lilith sought to make landfall here, in the United States," Thorne answered.

Alain's heart skipped a beat. "...You think her sister sent her," he realized, his eyes widening. "You think she's somehow responsible for what happened to the town. Am I understanding that correctly?"

"You have to realize how suspicious the timeline is," Julius implored. "Lilith is missing for several centuries-"

"Because she was staked and left for dead, and had to slowly regenerate over time," Alain growled. "Look, I don't know how else to tell you all that you're wasting your time and effort by focusing on her. You want the truth about what happened? Here it is – the mayor of Los Banos was dabbling in otherworldly forces he had no business messing with in the first place. He sacrificed many townspeople to try and make himself immortal, and when people tried to discover the truth and fight back, he summoned hordes of undead to descend upon them. In the end, his ritual backfired somehow; I'm not sure exactly how, but it did. And that's what happened – you can ask anyone in this group about it and they'll tell you the same thing. Now, if there's nothing else, I'd like to return to my friends, already."

The Adjudicators exchanged a glance with each other, but said nothing. Figuring they were finished, Alain rose to his feet and marched towards the door. He was about to step outside when Thorne called to him.

"Wait."

He paused, then turned back towards her. "Yes?"

"There is one more thing. It concerns you, in particular."

Alain's eyes narrowed. "I assure you, the only thing I did during the siege was-"

Thorne shook her head. "This is unrelated."

"What could possibly-"

"It involves your parents."

His eyes suddenly widened, and his breath hitched. Alain stared at her, frozen in shock for a moment, but then, his legs moved almost automatically. He stepped past the chair he'd been sitting in, marching right up to the trio of stone seats that towered above him. Standing in front of them, he crossed his arms and then uttered just two words in response.

"I'm listening."