Once I was one of the lost ones, an orphan in the streets of Gran’Dre. Human teenagers, no matter their home-world, believe they know more than their elders, and I was no different, rebelling against authority, not listening to guidance. And much to my regret, I never heeded the warnings after I became involved with the wrong sort.
Try as he might, Adeo Xandu, guardian of my rag-tag group of friends, could not make me a team player, my years of independence on the streets I suppose. Then shortly after I reached the age of four and twenty, having learned nothing from past mistakes, I met a man; man who would not only lead me into a life of larceny, but also cause my near death. His name is unimportant; he paid the price for his cowardice with his blood. What is of importance was my salvation, and by whose merciful hands this came about.
Shot twice during the course of a robbery and left for dead by my cowardly accomplice, I lay in the darkness of a secluded courtyard bleeding out my life. My feeble cries for help went unanswered until a dark shadow passed over me blocking out the moonlight. Though I recognized him not, he called me by name, lifting me from the cold ground in gentle arms. At the time I believed it was the loss of blood which made me experience a sense of drifting, but I later learned he’d taken to the sky and brought me to his estate, where he attempted to halt the inevitable march of death.
He smiled, revealing the fangs of a vampire, and at that moment I finally believed in their existence. Tenderly brushing aside the hair about my neck he kissed me, filling me with an intoxicating euphoria. Then his fingers held my chin, his grasp firm to give him full access to my eyes as he spoke.
“You are far too valuable to wither in a moldy grave, dissolving to meaningless dust. Say the word my sweet rebel and I shall give you a life without want, a life without pain, life without death.”
His body felt weightless as he hovered over me, his eyes glowed with a soft light, comforting and inviting. Then his lips found mine and my heart raced as my eyes began to dim.
“Katrel Pantera, do you wish an end to pain … life everlasting?”
Needless to say, I answered in the Affirmative and the rest is written on the scroll of time.
I am Katrel Pantera of the True Brujah. Fourth Chylde of Remington Bellatar. My age is three hundred, four and twenty. My job is acquisition and procurement My Sire’s gift to me is control of Fire.
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