Power Struggles in Qing Dynasty China, Mid 19th Cen

They still haven’t announced another women’s examination for official positions,¹ but it hardly matters; you’re so hungry you can barely think, and more or less all you can manage is reading the same page over and over again in your book and helping your mother with rote chores.²

Your mother still has a copy of the printed proclamation pinned up by the door, where the emperor declared that God will protect Nanjing from the Qing troops and foreign aggressors,³ and maybe He will, but maybe, you think, bitterly, the Emperor should have also asked God for manna and water, like in the story.⁴

You’re leaning against the wall, broom clutched in your hands, when there’s a clamoring outside, and shouting—the slight adrenaline wakes you right up, and you nudge open the door just as your neighbor is about to pound frantically on it—

“Miaoshan—wake your mother,” she says. “They’re saying the Emperor is dead!”⁵

[1] There will only ever be one. While Yi later became a professor of sorts in the academy of the Ordo Dracul, she never received a formal higher education, or even a high school education.

[2] No supplies had come in for far, far too long. Their family had been stretching their food as far as they could, but it was starting to take its toll.

[3] The Qing Emperor had finally decided to put a stop to the rebellion, enlisting European allies; the army was already struggling against them. It would only be a matter of time.

[4] In the Bible, after the Hebrew people's escape from Egypt, they wandered for a long time in the desert. On the verge of starvation, God provided; bread fell from heaven, and their leader struck a rock that then produced water.
One might say: if God can produce enough food and drink to feed all, then why do some still go hungry? In her opinion, there were several reasons—but also that this was not a story intended to teach what God could do, but to teach a lesson that God cares about the material needs as well as the spiritual.

[5] She learned later that it was food poisoning. Embarrassing.

Ethnographic Studies of Vampiric Society, Mid 20th Cen

Honestly, you hate these functions, but Elizabeth was one of your first friends when you arrived in Los Angeles,¹ and her husband being Prince means that you now have one reason to show up to court.

It’s a little too rich for your tastes, though, still, as much as the Engelharts are philanthropists—largely because every single goddamn vampire wants to show off, on some level. That’s what these events are for, which is maybe why archaic terms like “Prince” and “Court” persist so happily in this modern age.² Plenty of them clamored for a “nice” venue, which means that it’s absolutely dripping with wealth and there’s whole platters of food that none of the actual invited guests can or will eat, because it’s for the retinues. You’d ideally bitch about it with the Carthians, but the ones in this city are, as it turns out, awful.³

You do your best to extricate yourself efficiently from most of the small talk you get roped into without seeming overly frosty. Those other vampires of similar lineage are keen to try and recruit you to join them in commentating on the court’s social affairs,⁴ which just means they’re spectacularly poor judges of people, as much as they’re trying to be friendly to you in their own way.

Maybe you’ll actually get to settle down with your book for a bit while Elizabeth’s occupied—

—but, no, something catches your eye. Well, he’s one of the reasons you avoid the rest of the Daeva—Damian Silvanus would have been a terrible human being, on account of being a chauvinist and general asshole who thinks he’s the most important person in the room, and being a vampire has really just made him fucking awful. He’s usually got a girl or two on his arm (ugh), but this time he’s being trailed by a wide-eyed, fresh-faced but unnaturally pale young woman with perfectly wavy auburn hair framing her face—who looks wildly out of her depth and keeps running her tongue over her teeth. He tugs her around possessively but nudges away from the center of any conversation, and who is clearly looking for someplace safe.

So when you wander in her direction, it’s unsurprising that she very slowly sidles over. You gather over the course of conversation that her name is Eve; she came to Los Angeles from the small-town midwest hoping to make it in acting, and got sweet-talked by Mr. Silvanus and his slick manner and sharp suits without knowing what she was getting into, but she gathered that you were friends with some important people and might be able to do something.

She’s smart, you think; she’s been watching for an opportunity to get the hell away from him. He didn’t bother to blood bind her⁵—maybe the only decent thing he’s done in his worthless eternity.

You tilt your head, thoughtful, and ask her if she’d consider changing her plans from acting to continuing her education among your fellows in the Ordo Dracul.⁶

She smiles.

[1] Yi had been reluctant to consider any vampires outside her own religious order as potential friends. However, Los Angeles vampires required newcomers to the city to introduce themselves or risk being exiled or destroyed, and in doing so, Yi found herself being drawn in by Elizabeth's down-to-earth manner. One might also speculate it helped that Elizabeth was her type.

[2] In addition, vampires just happen to be very big fans of Machiavelli, on average.

[3] She often lamented the fact that she'd managed to find one of the few groups of Carthians who decided what they wanted to borrow from human society was fascism.

[4] The broad lineage known as "Daeva" are generally considered to be adept social manipulators, and often stereotyped as being beautiful and vapid. Yi did not find them to be the latter, precisely, but she hardly fit expectations and did not want to.

[5] It was easy for Yi to tell; she'd know the signs anywhere, and under no circumstances would one blood-bound be so eager to get away. To be bound by a vampire's blood is to have them occupy the center of your universe. Perhaps he simply thought he'd found a girl so starry-eyed over him that it would take far longer for the shine to wear off. Perhaps he thought he was a catch.

[6] Yi often found herself mentoring young women who reminded her, in one way or another, of her younger self.

What does it mean about you if you chose all your mentees because they reminded you of yourself in some way, and they all turned out terribly? She may well want you dead, as rosy as this seems.

Explorations of Faith in a Flawed and Cruel World, Late 19th Cen

It’s the middle of the night, and ███████ won’t be home for hours more—he doesn’t take you to Court, he says, “Ah, my little dove, it is no place for you. They’re all sinful vipers¹ who would lead you astray, and furthermore, you are my secret weapon.”²

And, besides, you’re not sure what you’d say to him right now, because you’ve gotten on one of your crying jags again. Embarrassing, really. He’d tell you to dry your eyes, that all would be well and all manner of things would be well, that Longinus has a plan for her,³ and it’d be so nice and so gentle that you’d want to slit your own throat⁴—

Anyway, you couldn’t bear staying in his rooms, so you just… went out. Wandered into an alleyway and sat yourself down on the back steps of some closed patisserie and scream into your hands. Suicide is a sin,⁵ and he loves you, you think. You love him. You can’t possibly leave him like that, he needs you, but you miss home and your family,⁶ and you hate yourself for the blood on your hands, you hate him for making you like this, and you hate God for not answering a single one of your prayers for the last nine years.⁷

There’s the gentle shuffle of footsteps stopping near you, and you look up from shoving your face into your knees to see a woman stopped there, looking down at you—a little unusually dressed, like she might be a foreigner, but you’re not sure from where, with long black hair that hangs down her back in a braid.

“I don’t know if you want company right now,” she says, a soft expression on her face, as she drops to one knee. “But—here.”

She extends her hand; in it is a handkerchief. After a moment, you take it; her face is neutral enough that you can pretend there’s nothing much wrong, and you’re grateful for it. “Really,” you say, sniffling into it miserably, “you’re too kind.”

“What would the world be if everyone was willing to reach out a hand in kindness?” She shrugs, lightly, and smiles. “More like it ought, perhaps. Do you have a safe place to sleep?”

“Oh—yes, of course. I just needed some air. No one else is at home, so… I don’t mind your being here.” You shake your head. “I’m—just having a moment. It’s my own faithlessness to blame.”⁸

You half-expect the same words from her—that it’ll be all right, all will be well, that you just need to hope and trust. But instead, she very gently holds out her hand, empty this time, and—it feels right to take it.⁹

“I’m sorry your pain has gone unacknowledged,” she says. “And that so many people have failed you by telling you that you have to endure gracefully. It’s not wrong to be angry. Anger is a gift.¹⁰ And there will be a time when you’ll need that anger, I think.”

It’s so wildly off-track of what you expected her to say that you stop crying altogether. “Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t ask your name…?”

“It’s Sophia,” she says, with a smile. “And—keep the handkerchief. I live nearby, so if I’m lucky, we’ll cross paths again sometime soon.”

It’s only after you’re gone that you realize you forgot to tell her your name, and that she didn’t ask it.¹¹

[1] Admittedly, on this count he was correct.

[2] It did not escape her notice that a weapon was an object.

[3] The central venerated figure of the Lancea Sanctum is Longinus, the centurion who supposedly pierced the side of Christ with his spear. For this, and for his myriad other sins, he was cursed by God to wander the earth immortal to serve as God's holy monster—supposedly.

[4] She had considered, often, why that kindness made her so viscerally hateful than anything else. Surely, it would be his rare bad moods that would cause her to feel such a way; however, after giving it some thought, she came to the tentative conclusion that it was because that kindness more than anything else placed her inside a box in which she could not fit, and the strain began to suffocate her.

[5] Theoretically, the sin of pride: that one knows better than God on high when one should leave this earth.

[6] She had long ago accepted that she would never see them again. But the heart wants what it wants.

[7] This was one of the things that hurt most of all. She thought: had I not been faithful? Was it because my devotion out of pride and self-importance? But even if it was, would a God who so loved the world abandon one of his children in her time of need?

[8] Perhaps it was her prideful nature that made it a dagger easy to turn upon herself; simple enough to say it was a personal failing.

[9] She did not like to be touched most of the time, even then. But in that moment, to have that tacit question of would you like this made her feel safer in a a way, for a brief, fluttering moment, than she had in the past decade.

[10] Hope would wonder, later, when it was she stopped being angry—when the flame of God's wrath left her, when she started making compromises, when she started thinking that vampires might be salvageable. It was clear that she had never quite convinced Iris of the same, so it had to be fairly recent. Was it an experience that gave her pause, or had she simply been bent by the concerns of the fallen world?

[11] This woman was a vampire; this woman would also, later save her life, and her salvation was already in motion. A good woman, if a monster. But, if she thought about it: why did she wait? Perhaps it was because she wanted to give a choice; perhaps it was because she hoped to give her the strength to save herself. Perhaps it is a metaphor for how even Christ still had to suffer at his execution on the cross, but even so—years later, she wondered what was going through Sophia's head at the time. She never got the chance to ask.

Were you just another tool to her, too?

On the Nature of Predators, Early 21st Cen

Your acquaintance's information is good, as far as finding the girl you're looking for—but, it seems that you've gotten there too late. Your stomach falls as Iris runs toward the pile of rubble—one small, child-sized arm visible, unmoving, and weeps, tears of blood trailing down her face while you stand back, expression drawn into a thin line, next to the others who'd come with you—a young Korean woman in a spangly sequined outfit,¹ and a chronically nervous-looking, slightly spindly-looking white man.²

The first surprise comes when your acquaintance—Despond,³ that was his name—questions all of you as to why this should be a sad occasion. After all, you'd planned on staking the girl, Sam, if she'd been killing people, as you'd feared—so why cry for her?⁴

He's addressing Iris, and she's the one to protest—she didn't want to kill her, just... stop her from hurting people, and it's not the same at all, and you're quick to back her up. There's something that feels wrong about this situation, though—

And it gets even wronger when Sam⁵ pulls herself out of the rubble, unharmed, and brushes herself off, calm-as-you-please, a perfectly neutral expression on her face. That's one of the many, many things that's wrong here. You've never seen her be calm. A child vampire isn't really capable of that kind of emotional regulation, and yet...

"Sam!" Iris calls out to the little girl, looking at once both desperately relieved and deeply worried.

You're all on your guard now, and any relief is short-lived as it gives way to confusion and alarm, as Sam explains, hopping up onto a half-broken wall, that someone named Victoria "uplifted" her,⁶ and that there are things beyond vampires. Predators of the predators, living detached from emotion—as enlightened creatures.

Iris, reaching out to Sam, wavers on her feet, slightly—her expression going from confused and distraught to... blank.

That's how they feed, Sam explains. On emotion—it's better from vampires. And of course Iris would want to feed her sister, when she's hungry. "If you're hungry, you can take from me," she says.⁷

And she takes, and she takes, and she takes, and the whole time Iris looks her in the eye—hands clenched tight to her sides. It goes on long enough that you're worried Iris will crumple in on herself before your eyes in refusing to turn away from this, as you silently bear witness—but stops short, and when she collapses to her knees, you don't catch her,⁸ but you're there by her side, at least. She doesn't look sad anymore, the blood drying on her ashen cheeks—her expression's just dull.

"Iris," you murmur, biting your lower lip.

"You're a lot like one of us," Despond says to you, thoughtfully. "So stoic, able to watch that so calmly."⁹

No, he was really wrong. It was simpler than that, wasn't it? You were afraid. Not of them, but of extremes. Of yourself. And you convinced everyone it was strength.

"Hm." You should have killed Sam. You should have killed her months ago, before it could come to this. But Iris loved her, it's her sister—¹⁰ "I don't really think so."

"Yeah, fuck off!" says the girl who came with you, and then shrinks back a little bit despite the conviction in her outburst. "Let's get out of here."

"Y-yeah," says the man, and stoops to help pick Iris up—glancing nervously at Sam. "Let's—we should really go, Ms. Yi."

You spare once glance back at Sam, and... then turn back away, to follow your companions. You didn't get this far without knowing how to pick your battles, and it rankles to know that right now this is one you would probably lose.¹¹

[1] Hope recalled that they went by the same name; therefore, with what she knows now, that would make this young woman "Grace." By her manner, she was a very young vampire—still very human.

[2] The man was someone Yi knew, but did not entirely trust—brought along on the younger Grace's recommendation. A member of the Carthian Movement, with whom she had a tense relationship.

[3] He had, for a long time, been presenting as a vampire in the Court of Los Angeles, and Yi was familiar with him; a friendly face, generally, and good for philosophical conversation, which stood out to her. Here, she found him to be very different in a sudden and jarring way.

[4] It was certainly true that they had all come prepared, in the event that the child vampire had been killing people. Yi had killed vampires for lesser crimes, before.

[5] Sam's sire was Iris's biological mother, who had become a vampire at some point after Iris was taken from her. For that reason, Iris felt responsible for her, and in a way, viewed her as the sister she never had. Therefore, both of you had been trying to socialize her, since you came upon her and took her in; you had been unsure whether it took at all.

[6] "Uplifting" was also a term that Hope heard from Samantha Moon, when she was in Tokyo-F as a guest star—the term the "Predators" used for changing a vampire into one of their own.

[7] It was always in Iris's nature to take care of others; after she became a vampire, it took on almost a self-martyring degree. Perhaps it was simply a refinement of her personality; perhaps it was, in her way, an attempt to make up for taking on the curse. Either way, it was something that Yi had tried to temper in her.

[8] Even in such a circumstance, Yi had never quite been comfortable reaching out to touch someone. Over time, her protectiveness over her personal space had become a deep anxiety that meant in all that time, she was never one to give physical affection even to those she saw as her children—Iris was surprised when Hope offered her a hug, when she visited Tokyo-F as a guest.

[9] Yi had decided at some point that there were other ways to show love to others—to try and take care of the world, to make room for them to live comfortably—but had never quite been satisfied with that. Being a little detached as a person gave Yi the time she needed to think, though; she was good in a crisis.

[10] It wasn't really correct at all. After all, Yi knew she was in this situation because she'd been sentimental, and hesitant to cause pain to Iris.

[11] Furthermore, Yi had thought she knew the depth of the evils in this world; this new revelation would take some time to process. Perhaps she would never finish processing it.

Discussions on Scientific Ethics in Vampiric Experimentation, Mid 20th Cen

You've been a little bit unsure about some of your new colleagues here in Los Angeles, but there's something very reassuring about your direct superior in the Sworn of the Mysteries from the moment you meet her.¹

Maybe it's that she's on the unassuming side: "Between us, call me Eleanor," she says. "I don't really care for all the status games, as much as that's part and parcel of everything here."

She's your elder by far,² even though she hardly looks it, with her soft features and glossy light brown hair, but she—like you—has been relatively careful in keeping up with the news of the day, and the ways of the world outside your little society. It makes her easy to talk to—honestly, maybe even dangerously so. You wonder, a little, if she might sympathize, or be convinced to³—but in the meantime, you're sure you can trust her with a little more of your work.

When you tell her about your quiet personal experiment in trying to shore up new vampires against the pitfalls of one's vampiric nature, she raises her eyebrows, leans in—although you can't help but feel like there's a slightly tense twitch to the corner of her mouth. A worried sort of motion, or maybe a concerned one.⁴

At first, you're a little worried she's onto something about you—but, well, nothing happens and nothing happens, and you ease into sharing more and more with her. She's never judgmental—always just asking gently probing questions about your ideas.⁵

And, truth be told—have you ever had a friend like this? When she says that if you ever need anything at any time to call her—for the first time in a very long time, you find yourself trusting that it would be true.

[1] Yi would take an embarrassingly long time to realize that she was gay.

[2] A relative rarity in that time. Some years before, a plague had wiped out many elder vampires, which Yi had felt was a blessing—though she was, upon making Eleanor's acquaintance, glad of her survival.

[3] Eleanor shared Yi's concerns about their fellow vampires and their connection to their humanity, and was a fellow ethicist among the Ordo Dracul academy.

[4] At the time, it gave Yi a slight moment of pause, since if her research gave Eleanor concern, then perhaps there might be some kind of problem with it; however, she was still convinced of its usefulness, especially having tested some of it on herself.

[5] Eleanor was not one to tell anyone else what to do; rather, she asked questions with the intent of helping fellow scholars come to conclusions. In a way, Yi found her to be a little like her early mentor Sophia, but in a less distant way. She could, however, never shake the sense at the time that Eleanor was expecting something of her and she couldn't divine what.

Dangers of Advanced Alteration of the Vampiric Condition, Mid 20th Cen

Paula is having a little bit of a panic—which is of course reasonable,¹ but you're doing your best to reassure her that there's really nothing to be afraid of. "I don't want to go in there again," she keeps saying, even though you've told her that sometimes hallucinations are a side effect of the sensory deprivation plus the ley energies in the Wyrm's Nest, so there's really nothing dangerous about it.²

"Come, Paula," you say, gently. "As a vampire, there theoretically will always be something that sets you apart from people—but this will help fix that. You'll be able to get along well with so many people, and I'll be undergoing the Chrysalis as well. We'll get through this together. I know you have the strength within you."³

Truth be told, you're a little frustrated, though you try not to let that show on your face. You're behind schedule, and you'd like to try reintroducing Paula to society in the next month—but something about the last Chrysalis made her skittish, and you wonder if it worked properly, even though it did work on you. Something about the ley line calibration…?⁴

"Please, Grace—" She stutters, slightly, not making eye contact. "I—don't think I can do this. Maybe in… in a week…? I mean, I… um, I know you had plans, but—"

"Now, Paula—I have full faith. After all, it's only a few days of simple meditation, and we've practiced, right?⁵ And when things are a little scary, what better than to push through them sooner rather than later?" You really do have full faith. This clever young woman, whose life was nearly ruined by vampires—she'll become the new model for a way vampires can be.

Nothing can go wrong.

[1] This was, Yi knew, the very cutting edge of occult sciences—a truly fundamental alteration to the state of vampirism itself. Undergoing these changes was not for the faint of heart.

[2] This was mostly a true opinion to have, although there were certainly plenty of dangerous things that found themselves attracted to ley lines and Wyrm's Nests.

[3] Paula had greatly reminded Yi of herself, after all; therefore, she labored under the belief that Paula would have the same strength of will to overcome this that she did.

[4] Even if it was an issue with conditions, those things could be adjusted. Every variable could be accounted for.

[5] At this time, she had not yet realized she had stopped accounting for what fears and desires lay in the hearts of others, in focusing on her larger vision for the world.

Pros and Cons of the Vampiric Curse, Early 20th Cen

When Iris first floats the idea past you,¹ you're quick to snap: absolutely not.

"You've got a whole life ahead of you, Iris. You have plenty of ways to make wonderful contributions to the world as an individual—you're clever and kind besides. There's no shame in living a life of peace—it's to be aspired to."²

Hypocrite. Immortality suited you just fine, didn't it? You got all the opportunity you dreamed of.

She huffs. The youthful fat has all gone from her cheeks, but there's still something slightly petulant about the expression. You could almost imagine her tugging on your sleeve, if she hadn't figured long ago that you're keen on your personal space. "Grace—but I could be making contributions to the world right now,³ saving people like you saved me, and it's of my own free will—"

You sigh. "When you're older—it'll be your choice to make. You're too young, as it is, to be making that kind of decision about your immortal soul. Even though our order only turns those who are full willing, going into it with eyes open—see a little bit more of life, first, before you throw it away. Please. For me."

"But you—"

Another look from you and she falls silent, wrapping her arms around her knees to lean in toward your campfire. She knows when your expression means drop it.

It's not the last time she brings it up, though—she waits a few months, just past her next birthday. You wish she'd stop dreaming of dying,⁴ but you also recognize in her a spirit not dissimilar to your own—the kind that it's really hard to dissuade from giving up—and you suspect you'll be revisiting this topic for far longer than you'd like.⁵

[1] Like Yi before her, Iris had seized upon the idea of becoming a vampire to better fight vampires.

[2] Yi herself had not found cause to regret her choice to become a vampire at that point; however, she did not think there was much else she could have done with her life, given what she had experienced. Not that she had no other skills—but, simply, it was the only choice she wanted to make.

[3] At the time she was sixteen—the same age Yi had been when her life had been upended. During that time, it wasn't uncommon for children of her age to work, but given her life so far, Iris had barely had time to be a child at all.

[4] In Tokyo-F, many of Hope's friends and unitmates would question whether she had really "died," insofar as she retained many of the characteristics that they felt made up a life. Certainly, she could still move through the world, and make friends; she could learn and change, as long as she put the effort into it. However, there is an inherent stasis to the vampiric condition that must be actively fought, rather than the growth inherent to human nature; furthermore, in the philosophy of the Sept, her religious order, to become a vampire under their banner was to give one's existence over to a cause, with the acceptance that it would mean one's own damnation; a death of the self in metaphor at minimum.

[5] In the end, a few years in the future, Yi did in fact become Iris's sire—that is, in vampire parlance, the one to change her into a vampire.

Internal Ethics Review of Human Experimentation, Early 21st Cen

"What is it you're looking for…?"

Your colleague and the blue-haired young woman explain, together: they'd found some information relating to an experiment done by one Stephen Zachar,¹ another senior member of the Ordo Dracul, in a friend's abandoned haven, and wanted to cross-reference them with what the library had, starting with an obituary for a Chicago-area woman named Dianna.

The power's still spotty,² so you have to resort to the card catalog, but it's not too hard to track down: the experimental log on an attempt at "hybridization," which all of you come to realize, in horror, was some kind of long series of attempts to create living half-vampire children in "sourced organic incubative environments," which you all realize with even more horror means that Zachar was killing people and stealing their reproductive organs. Which, based on the numbering of the experiments—implies that he killed nearly a hundred women for this.

The young woman seems faintly surprised at the reaction from you and your colleague. At this point you start explaining in no uncertain terms that you would never have passed this on the review board, and furthermore that such experimentation is absolutely not a thing that the Los Angeles chapter of the Ordo Dracul does,³ and also frankly you're disgusted, which seems to relieve her a great deal.

In fact—on hearing this from you, she tells you that, in fact, she's been dissatisfied with the state of the Carthian Movement in the city, and that, if you'll have her, she'd like to join up with you, and you're entirely glad to accept.

[1] A member of the academy in Chicago, Yi had not known him apart from being familiar in passing with a handful of his publications. However, their spheres of interest had rarely overlapped.

[2] Due to the massive catastrophe that destroyed most of Los Angeles, the amount of power and supplies they had available at the time was impressive; Yi had been working with local groups at the neighborhood level to assist in mutual aid.

[3] Yi did have a moment of pause in wondering if it was a claim that she could make, given that she herself had experimented on vampires. While her own experiments had lacked such a visceral brutality, they were still ones that had not been wholly safe. However, since becoming the senior acting member of the Sworn of the Mysteries, which handled internal affairs, she had been quite firm in the Ordo Dracul that experiments would be held to a particular ethical standard.

Opportunity Cost Tradeoffs of Immortality, Early 20th Cen

"Hey—hey, get back on your cot!" the older woman says, eyes going wide when she reenters the medic tent and sees you up and about. "What did I tell you? You'll heal more slowly if you keep mucking about like that."¹

"It's good enough," you say, shrugging on your jacket. "I heard the others were heading out—"

"No, Grace," she says, sternly, and grips your shoulder—and a lance of pain shoots through your arm, making you wince. "See? It's not healed. I know you want to follow the others and be out there in the action, but you have to remember you can't just heal through it anymore. A mortal life is a gift,² and it's one you have to take care of."

You sigh, and look away—jaw clenched bitterly. The work matters, and you have so little time compared to the others.³

An idea starts to form in your head, as you shuffle back to your cot and argue with the medic about at least being allowed to read if you're going to be bored.⁴ It's an idea you didn't think you'd ever entertain seriously, but—

—but, there are some things more important than a mortal life or your eternal soul.⁵ And if you'll be damned for doing what you must to better fight the good fight—then you hardly care about the opinion of the one doing the judging.

[1] Yi had sprained her shoulder not a few days before, fighting a vampire with the monstrous strength that she would one day be able to leverage herself. As an enthralled "ghoul," she had access to some of the powers of a vampire while still being a human, as well as faster healing; as a mortal once again, it was difficult to adjust to having to take extra care.

[2] This was phrasing oft-repeated to her, and something that she remembered, even as she watched the arc of history bend in such a way that girls like her were much happier and had more opportunities afforded to them. To have only a brief window of time to make one's mark on the world was not a frailty or a curse, but something that drove ambition and innovation, and made one consider what legacy one might leave behind.

[3] The fact that vampires had forever to stain the earth with greed and gluttony rankled, to her; the fact that the vampires among their band had committed to spend just as long fighting them and removing that eternity from those who would misuse it had begun to feel like more and more of a reasonable choice.

[4] While she had learned much under her regnant's tutelage, many things had been outside his sphere of interests and therefore not things she heard much of; many other things he had considered inappropriate for her. She had a lot to catch up on, after a decade of that.

[5] One could argue to her (and many had, in fact) that what she did while enthralled to a vampire at his request was not something she could consider to be on her conscience. That did not, however, change the fact that she had experienced it; that she had, at the time, wanted to please him; that she spilled blood with her own two hands. To accept that she had no complicity in it would be to accept her own objectification.