"It was a very brave thing you did, Leona, defying Anastacia like that…Guess that's why I was so sure you are the one at the first sight."

The first thing Garrett did in Leona's dream, was to offer her acknowledgement.

Last second, she remembered herself falling asleep in Mercurio's sports car, and now she was standing under a cloudless, sapphire sky, safe and sound in day light, facing the entrance of a beautiful rustic mansion with Garrett at her side, wearing a summer outfit typically seen on Victorian gentlemen. Behind them, was a fairly mowed lawn and a fountain with blooming flower bed in the middle.

She realized this was the house where she was embraced…no, to be more precise, these two estates looked exactly the same.

"I must be dreaming…" Leona murmured, "Where are we?"

"My ancestral residence in London, where I was born. I built the one in Beverly Hills based on my memory of it." Garrett stepped onto the porch and pushed the front door opened, "Why don't you let me show you around? Last time we were too…hasty to do a proper tour."

And so they walked in. Instead of the dark ritual preparations Leona remembered, she saw a lovely, well-lighted hall with impressionistic, decorative oil paintings on the wall and a wonderful collection of china vases in the cabinet, and the smell of lilies was in the air, bringing the joyful scent of nature. Apparently, in his human life, Garrett was born with quite a status.

"Of all people…I dream about you." Still, with the horrific image of Garrett's head being separated on her mind, Leona felt a little bit…uncomfortable seeing dead come back to life like this.

"Sire and Childe are known to be…tightly connected, both mentally and in bloodline. Since I'm already dead, I suppose…this is how we are connected now."

"In dreams?"

"More like…in subconscious—or souls, in a more abstract way of speaking, and it manifests in dreams."

As if talking to Garrett gave her a feeling of everything hadn't gone too far—like it already had—Leona got back to her old self in front of her Sire, or to be specific, her old self she presented in those night therapies with Garrett: sharp, and cleverly humorous.

"Well, at least I still get sessions with my psychiatrist…for free." She joked.

Garrett laughed: "Indeed."

They walked pass the dining hall and living room, and Leona marveled at the details recreated in this dream mansion: the teapot and cups that were giving out warm fragrance, burning woods in the fireplace, scattered pillows on the carpet and sofa, like…someone was still living there a moment ago.

"I was the third-born in the family, quite lucky if you asked. My two big brothers were both assigned with responsibilities—to become new nobles with both title and wealth, and to breed a legitimate heir…they were secretly fighting over every penny."As they proceeded upstairs, Garrett was indulging in his memories, "But no one expected anything from me, so I got the freedom to go to college, teach in a foreign university…and meet Anastacia afterwards."

Upon that name, Garrett's expression darkened a little. Leona had a wry smile on her face, thinking about how sarcastic the fate of them three played out to be: "I'm sorry Garrett, I have to kill her…now you both died because of me."

"Don't feel sorry about that, what you saw was not her—at least not all of her. She died long before that, killed by one of those lethal…traps when we were exploring an ancient site." Garrett patted Leona's shoulder and explained, "And I felt those changes in her, too…being too excluded by Kindred society and too absorbed in pursuing knowledge, she lost her grasp of humanity."

But the more he explained, more confused Leona got. With so many questions piling in her chest, she had to silently reflect for minutes to pick out the one question she had to ask—the one that could only be answered by Garrett:

"Why?"

It was only one word, but Garrett clearly knew what she was asking:

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

Why, did he do all this and…get himself killed? To what end?

So Garrett answered the same thing his Sire gave to Leona: "It doesn't matter."

"No. Don't you use that sentence on me, too! I deserved to know the truth!" Leona was genuinely angry and stopped following him in the corridor, "For you it's so easy to flush it away because you are already dead, but I'm the one who lived to see this! And all those…versions of why you died I've heard from all those people…"

"Then don't you think it's time I have a saying in my own death?" Garrett said, stood in front of a family portrait, watching the face of the human, youthful him under the painter's strokes, "I have every reason to die, for others: I violated their interests, I knew too much, I stepped on their toes, I went against the traditions, or they simply didn't like me—but those were for them.

"I wanted to die, Leona, that's my way of saying no to Anastacia…and Kindred like her. I wasn't so vigilant like you, identifying the…dangerous truth behind the regal quest of my Sire on first sight, I was just a hot-blooded young man, blinded by the ideal of finally having an endless lifetime to know everything about this endless universe…and by the time I realized, it was already too late. I knew, sooner or later, if I played by the rules and survived like others, I would become just like Anastacia—using my knowledge as a vengeance against everyone who wronged us, and a castle that made ourselves feel good about watching our Kindred waring against each other condescendingly, which was the total opposite of my original intention.

"I started learning because I loved this world, with the pure curiosity of a new-born child…not out of hatred and pride. When I realized I couldn't sustain this against that darkness in our world, I…I panicked, Leona. I was so scared. I guess that's what you humans call 'existential crisis', isn't it?"

Garrett turned around to look at her, grinned at this ridiculous self-diagnosis. Leona noticed his eyes becoming foggy and watery, and realized those were tears he tried to contain—he didn't want to lose control of himself in front of his Childe.

Leona didn't know what to say. She couldn't accuse him for fearing repeating the path of Anastacia, after witnessing what she had become. However still, that didn't justify everything:

"But why me?" She asked, "why getting me involved?"

And her question aroused that guilt on Garrett's face. He remained quiet for a while, and replied: "I will have to call it an old, dying man's eagerness of leaving inheritance behind, then…and you are the one I put my faith in."

"Your faith in what?"

"In you…breaking this endless cycle of tragedy."

He didn't say anything more.

"So that's why you…you lied and kept me in the dark about the big dangers to just make sure…what? I would…be willing to be embraced?" Leona's voice started quavering.

"Yes…I know I'm not a good guardian of you, Leona, not like Zack." Garrett sighed in shame, "So don't feel sorry and responsible for my death…I'm the one who did this to myself…and to you, too."

It's still not right…something still doesn't feel right. A more rational part of Leona observed that Garrett was still hiding something, but she didn't have the energy to care about it at the moment—right now, she was overwhelmed by emotions.

"That's just…so…unfair…" She said, with her head hanging down, in the voice of nearly whimper.

Maybe it was the feelings too strong for her to handle, or maybe it was almost time for her to wake up from this strange dream, Leona suddenly felt a strong lassitude burdening her body and mind, stumbled and almost fell if Garrett didn't hold her arms in time.

"What happened?" Lying on Garrett's chest, panting, Leona asked in an extremely debilitated voice.

"You are talking to a part of me left in you through the Embrace, so it's not a natural dream, and it will be exhausting to your mentality. Come, let's get you to someplace to rest."

While telling her what was going on, Garrett took her to a master bedroom, lay her down in the luxurious silk beddings, stroking her forehead and hair gently and said:

"Before you wake up, as your psychiatrist, I have an advice to give to help you adapt better in this new…unlife." He paused and bowed down, "Do a real human hunt for blood, don't just drink the bags."

"Why?"

Leona couldn't understand. She survived perfectly on blood bags, and she hadn't got the impression that Garrett was the bloodthirsty type that took pleasure in hurting innocent lives.

"If you rely too much on…packaged food, it would be very easy to lie to yourself that you are not a monster. Like I told you, there's a constant battle between humanity and beast inside us, so to battle the beast…you have to face it first."

Finishing this sentence, he stood up, looking at Leona who was already half-conscious, and started to recite a poem out of the blue:

"Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light…"

It was Dylan Thomas' work, guiding her back to sleep like a peaceful lullaby. When Leona woke up again, she was back in her haven, 7 p.m. at another Saturday night, and the first thing she heard was her phone ringing for a notification. She unlocked it, the latest one she saw was from Mercurio, with a "Rise and shine" and a string of emoticons of moon and star behind, and the second one was an email arrived last night, written in a much more professional fashion. It was from the Prince:

To Leona:

Congratulations on your accomplishment on the test, I've read Mercurio's report and he spoke quite highly of you, and both me and Regent Strauss are looking forward to your membership in Camarilla, North America. Please notify us and get to LaCroix Group Tower after you recover.

S. LaCroix

After lying in bed for a while, staring at the bug buzzing around the light above her, Leona didn't delay further, picked up the phone and called Mercurio:

"Merc, I'm ready. Let's go to the LaCroix building."