#origin point

11.11.18-- Midnight. I've heard it said that when a sire dies their childe knows at once. The binding snaps at last. For all my borrowed refinement, it seems I cannot fight my nature. This half-knowing is a curse. I must return, promises be damned. (How odd feels to greet the place you mourned.) This part is well-worn by now. My heart names me Fool, again and again. Still - there is one I will not abandon to these halls. > "Brother" > "Vikaslaus. You've come, then." > "You knew I would." > "I knew." > "You've done so well."

{Prologue: Start}

Origin Point Prime: O.O.5

> We've reached the end at last. > So it would seem. > He is truly dead then? > Is standing in this house not proof enough? > Yes, I suppose the wards would've flayed me otherwise. > A less pleasant reunion, to be sure. > You must think me milk-livered for my doubt. > I would think it reckless to trust anything at this point. > And if I said I trusted you? > Most madcap of all. Go check the coffin yourself. > Hah! No, no. I can wait. The brood will want to check for themselves as soon as they swarm in. > You make a point. :/ > I'm surprised I arrived before them. > It won't be long, I'm sure. They'll want their share, after all. > And you? > It's a difficult business. > Naturally. > But I suppose I do, in a way. > You've been this place's caretaker some five centuries. I should think you'd want to be free of it. > And lo, there is the problem at its core. I won't deny it. I loathe this place. But loathing and attachment are so often intertwined. > Fauntkin. Time will heal this. > Hah. Time. It's been five hundred years, Vik. > Then give it five hundred more. I would beg you leave this place if I thought you would listen. > Nay, nay. I must see this to its end. > As expected. Very well. I remain your second. If you must stay, we both shall. I could not protect you then. May I prove a changed man now.

{Prologue: End}

Origin Point Prime: O.O.5