It was hot in Georgia that day, in the summer of 1750. It is in my memory as though it were yesterday: divine bliss and the stench of hell. I found them both that day—my wedding and my family massacred before me.” But my second mother and her companions happened by. I drank of her essence and became as she was. And I was happy for a time. Then the Monarchs decided to cleanse their ranks of the Daywalkers. I fled. For 400 hundred years, I fled until I found one last bastion. And now the same forces that slaughtered my people seek to snuff out the last embers of hope. I can run no longer. Though old devils make new comrades hard to trust, I shall stand with them. I shall stand until my cutlass sings with power and is drenched in the blood of my enemies. This I vow!