Radiance Inviolate

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](text-color:"#fff3c3")+(text-size: 2)[RADIANCE INVIOLATE] (text-color:"#ffe98e")+(text-size: 0.8)[— An Interactive Novelette by DemonApologist —] <div class="endpsg">[[Start. ⇒->1. Present]] [[Color schemes. ⇒->Color Schemes Dark]] [[Content notes. ⇒->Content Notes Dark]] [[Acknowledgments. ⇒->Acknowledgments Dark]]</div>

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[I.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Moonrise | Vintopol Outskirts.] <div class="presentpsg">Eleven nights. $advancepresent[It had been eleven excruciating nights since Lysander last fed. Not in the years since he first turned had he so longed to feel that fleeting warmth again. To drink deeply. To quicken his idle heart and bring color to stiff fingertips. To stave off the ravening for enough nights in a row that he might dream a plan less pathetic than cowering away from the dorries and their accursed sun. Camille—his maker—had left him a particular imprint; a drive to consume those already craving relief from suffering. Acts of mercy that fueled him, yes, but also brought him to face that force of nature which he himself refused and resented. $advancepresent[Death. $advancepresent[Despite Camille’s bittersweet gift, despite her hope that he might not resort to cruelty for the sake of survival, these were starving times. Lysander’s fangs yearned to shred any tender neck they encountered. And so, on this twelfth night, he was drawn out of hiding to search, again, for blood. $advancepresent[The moon, swollen the color of exposed embers, pulled free from the treetops, casting a sickly glow over the misty tendrils that yet reached to drag it back beneath the soil. Lysander dreaded these moonlit nights, not only for how their brightness imperiled his prowling, but for what else was brought, emboldened, into the forest and fields. More nights than not, the fever of vigilante smiting ravaged these hinterlands. Paladins and fiend-flayers and their growing hordes of frothing zealots punished ever more obscure sins. Their unquenched fires left an overwhelming stench, unlike the smoke of revelry from the time before he turned—bonfires to char the fruit of a successful hunt or tame onions to sweetness. $advancepresent[No longer. $advancepresent[Even so, the haze of such ruthless purification could not fully mask what Lysander sought. Just there, he caught it—the lingering perfume of something that had bled recently nearby. Was it a mirage brought about by desperate hunger? He pulled himself into the shaded embrace of an olive tree, its twisted boughs providing cover as he focused on the scent. He closed his eyes, searching for that faint melody singing among the cacophony of smells. $advancepresent[There it was again. $advancepresent[Not human, but unmistakable. Cloying. How could he have ever doubted it? Lysander ran his fingers through his dark, grimy hair, then tied it back with a stained ribbon. In competition with fear and hunger, his desire to feel clean again was a more distant need to be sated. At his most embraced, he worked as an affineur, attuning his supernatural sense of smell to divine the status of ripening cheese in exchange for safety from sunlight in the cellar, and regular access to blood. But, of those tenuous links between the vampire and mortal society, only ash and scorched stone remained. $advancepresent[He crept from tree to tree, keeping their dark shrouds gathered close when the climbing moon threatened to reveal him. The heady scent had only grown, sublime iron gathering at the back of his throat. At last, he saw it. $advancepresent[A doe, lying in a small clearing, the dirt around her still form damp and wine-dark with blood. Lysander barely restrained his impulse to leap upon the felled creature and drain it. He stilled his twitchy hands and listened for a heartbeat from a distance. $advancepresent[Nothing. The deer had already succumbed. $advancepresent[He listened further. If poachers were on their way to collect, he would expect to hear their boots snapping twigs, harsh laughter, or the yapping of eager hounds. $advancepresent[Nothing, again. Had he been less blood-stricken, perhaps he would’ve felt anger toward those who killed and abandoned this doe without purpose. Regret that he hadn’t arrived in time to ease her passing. But, in the face of these conditions, he couldn’t afford such moral clarity. $advancepresent[Nor could he afford patience. $advancepresent[He dashed into the open moonlight, aiming right for the dead doe’s neck, hoping beyond reason that it was still warm. $advancepresent[As he grasped, searching for purchase, the carcass dissipated into mist, the ground gave way, and he plunged, limbs swinging wildly, to depths unknown. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Die. ⇒->2. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[III.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Midnight | Pitfall.] <div class="presentpsg">Lysander stirred, lifting his head. $advancepresent[Something gritty that stank of ozone clung to the left side of his face, dusting his hair and cheek. Not even his eyelashes had been spared. He tried to wipe it out of his eyes, but found his movement constricted. He looked over blearily, trying to see what he was stuck on. Something had pinched his patchy coat near his armpit. $advancepresent[“What is that?” he muttered, thrashing in hopes of releasing himself. The fabric ripped, giving where his once-dextrous fingers had struggled to guide a needle for even stitches. He sat up, brushing off the worst of the sandy residue. $advancepresent[The source of his sartorial woe was a wooden spike protruding from the ground. Lysander shivered, recognizing his luck that it had speared only his flimsy jacket and nothing more. Several similar spikes jutted upwards from the ground where he had fallen, though they hadn’t been well maintained. Enough had toppled that he’d slid into a gap they’d left. $advancepresent[“The heartwood of trees abhors you,” he recited. “Let not its splinters pierce your flesh. But…” $advancepresent[At last, Lysander took in his moonlit surroundings. He was sitting at the bottom of a pitfall trap with sheer sides, at a depth of perhaps thirteen feet. The doe had been an illusion obscuring the pit. He still detected the faint hint of blood, no doubt scattered nearby to strengthen the subterfuge. The other smell, now, was overwhelming. He knelt to examine more critically the odd substance his face had landed in. It was unmistakable now; ashes from another vampire who had come into sight of that horrid, unblinking eye. $advancepresent[The sun. $advancepresent[Radiance inviolate. $advancepresent[Fingers trembling, he rested his hand on the ash pile, as though trying to comfort it. “What did they do to you?” he asked, voice hitching in his throat. He found two similar patches nearby. It was then that Lysander had a harrowing realization. He’d be joining them. $advancepresent[He clutched instinctively for his chest, where the crossbow bolt had torn once through him. Panic threatened to consume him. So too did shame. How could he have let such an obvious snare trick him like this? He thought he had been careful, but in the rush of finding blood, he hadn’t been as thorough. The Disciples of Radiance Inviolate had counted on that. $advancepresent[In light of their relentless campaign to bring all accursed beings to face the sun’s vengeful brilliance, his caution amounted to nothing. The dorries were many, mighty, and meticulous in their takeover. They’d made it harder and harder for him to cross back into the city, withering his connections with the meager few who still cared for him. They’d made targets of anyone lending protection or support or sustenance. Vigilante smiting had intensified his fear, making him afraid to seek blood. $advancepresent[And now, they’d capitalized on his desperate hunger with this humiliating trap. $advancepresent[After all that, he still had not even eaten. He was unsated, his hunger unabated, undead joints stiff and fangs aching. It was a monstrous fate—to feel so empty and cold, alone to burn in a slow but inevitable dawn. Discarded with the others, who had talked and thought and loved and dreamed—and yes, drank blood—until they were reduced to forgotten ash. Lysander clenched his hands into fists. He was hungry, cold, ashamed, and overwhelmed. But what little blood still lingered in his body scorched with another emotion so potent as to threaten the supremacy of the others. $advancepresent[The spite to survive. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[IV.] (text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Elsewhere.] <div class="pastpsg">What remained of a man... $advancepast[ (align:"==><=")[...drifted in soft fog…] $advancepast[ (align:"=><==")[...guided by wind unfelt… ] $advancepast[ (align:"==>")[...toward some unfathomable destination.] $advancepast[ Something tugged at his hand. $advancepast[He glanced over his shoulder. Among the indistinct haze was a gap, not unlike a canyon cloven through stone. Lysander shivered, suddenly fearful of where he’d been floating. $advancepast[The fog was cold and spare. Numbing. Gray. Through this cleft flowed sweet glows of green and gold whose heat took hold. $advancepast[He followed its beckoning, climbing through the gap into a humid, marshy hollow. Strange plants grew here, leaves speckled red and brown, the fronds of great ferns unfurling. Jewel-bright insects paid Lysander little heed as they flitted twixt flowers that glistened with sticky sap. $advancepast[“Care to join me?” called a melodic voice from up ahead. An uncanny being was seated at an unusual table. They had perched themselves on a log at the great stump, wine-colored hair tumbling behind them. Their eyes were curiously golden; their fingers ended in black claws that were wickedly sharp. They appeared to be serving tea. $advancepast[“Um—hello,” Lysander said, before sitting across from them. “You may call me Kembrael.” They tilted their head, smiling. “What is your name?” “Lysander,” he said. “But what is—I mean, where am—” Kembrael held up their hand to quell his tide of questions. Silt-dark veins crossed their palm as though it were a river delta. “It’s best to be direct in these matters. You died. You are dead. Tea?” $advancepast[“Dead?” Unwelcome memories flooded back to him. You know the ones. “Yes.” They lifted an ivory-tinged teapot, pouring an amber liquid into two hollowed out gourd halves. “Dead.” “I’m dead. But...” Lysander’s mouth had gone dry. “I’m dead. Is this... Hell?” $advancepast[Kembrael laughed, sharp and bright. “How very dare you! Goodness. My beautiful garden… that’s what you think Hell is?” “I didn’t—” “I mean, I’ve considered moving there,” they said. “The most fabulous archfiend has been trying to court me for ages. I’m not *not* interested, but... still. I don’t think I could spend my existence somewhere so...” They waved their hands, as if that explained it. “You get it, I’m sure.” “I’m dead.” $advancepast[“Right.” Kembrael clicked their claws against the side of their gourd, sending ripples across the surface of their tea. “You’re wondering why you ended up in this fey place, yes? When you died, you were buried according to old traditions. *My* traditions. You were drained of blood and gifted a fig.” $advancepast[Lysander looked down, realizing that he was indeed holding a soft, purple fruit that fit neatly into his hand. “Has that—was that always there?” They shrugged. “What’s important is what it represents—your soul. And what a beautiful thing it is, a fig, made delectable by the wasp that gave herself to its pollination, crawling inside to spread her brood. You should be careful with it.” He examined the fruit. It was bruised, but hardly wrinkled. $advancepast[Kembrael continued. “Here’s your choice. You can proceed to death—whatever you were in the process of doing before you stopped by. Simply eat the fig, merge back with your soul and, if you’re feeling dramatic, jump into that pool.” They indicated a patch of what resembled dark, still water. “If that prospect does not fill you with an exceptional amount of relief or contentment, you can take the other path. Become a vampire, and return to... well, it’s not exactly life, but it is a kind of survival.” $advancepast[“A vampire? People hate vampires,” Lysander said, cradling the fig to him. “I... I’m afraid of them.” “I know.” Kembrael sighed. “My beautiful and meaningful traditions have been neglected. Vampires turning other generations of vampires without proper rites. Without a choice. The choice that I am offering you.” Lysander weighed their words. “I would… return, and then what? I would be hunted? Become a monster lurking in the shadows, preying upon people... like she did to me?” $advancepast[“I will tell you the things that you must know,” they said, voice growing firm. “Do not forget my words. To become a vampire is to spite Death. Powerful though I am, I must admit that I cannot overrule her completely. I can grant you strength, speed, and cunning that you never had before. You will grow fangs powerful enough to pierce necks. But Death fights my gifts with vengeful curses. The heartwood of trees abhors you; let not its splinters pierce your flesh. Silver will scorch you; so too will the sanctified artifacts of so-styled holy men. But above all, your foe is the sun. Its glare is fatal to a vampire. To be seen by daylight is to perish, irrevocably.” $advancepast[Lysander sat in silence as they continued. “You will crave fresh blood. Maintaining your existence will cause pain to others. Perhaps you will become numb to inflicting this violence. Perhaps you will resent who or what the hunger forges you into. You will be hunted. You will be hated. But you will have the gift of more life. More time. That is the meaning of this choice.” $advancepast[“What do you even get out of this?” Lysander asked. “Making desperate people who have just... died—I’m dead!—into monsters?” “A bite of your fig,” Kembrael said. “And the piece of your soul it bears. While you’re out there enjoying or suffering your continued existence as a vampire, I hold onto that bit of soul and use that power for my own ends. The spiritual implications are concerning, no doubt, but I’ve never cared much for theology.” $advancepast[“So you’re some kind of demon, then. If souls are what you’re after.” “Does that terrify you, dead boy?” They laughed, less kindly this time. “That you might be speaking with a demon? How awful of me, to have threatened you with some quality conversation and a fair assessment of your options. If you do walk the earth again, monsters and fiends and other downtrodden dark ones wandering the mortal realm will become your most likely allies. There is community among the reviled. Perhaps you owe them some grace.” $advancepast[“I want it,” Lysander said. “To go back and keep going. To have more time. Who wouldn’t? Who could actually choose death? But I just... to survive, I have to kill people? I don’t think I can do it. Killing people night after night.” $advancepast[“You have the wrong idea,” Kembrael said. “Well—many vampires kill to satiate themselves. That’s true. I suspect that’s why Death even allows me to do this, claiming more lives for each that I extend. How I loathe her power… I can’t even win by spiting her. But, no. You don’t have to kill. You don’t need a lot of blood at once; you could try to negotiate for it. The nature of your cravings is unpredicatable. However, the one who killed you did so in a merciful way. She was kinder than she was cruel. That leaves an imprint, influencing the vampire you turn out to be.” $advancepast[Lysander cupped the tender fig in his hands, looking at it, trying to anchor himself to an understanding of what it would mean to give away a part of it to this otherworldly being. But, in the end, it wasn’t much of a choice. He wasn’t ready to die. $advancepast[“Here you go,” he said, reaching across the stump’s endless rings to offer Kembrael the fig. They plucked it gently from his hands, brought it to their lips, and took a bite. Something dark dribbled down their chin as they closed their eyes, savoring the taste of it. $advancepast[Lysander felt no different. $advancepast[Finally, Kembrael spoke once again. “How delicate a flavor you have, my dear.” They handed back the fig, claws brushing against Lysander’s fingers. “Before you eat the rest and awaken to your next night, do you have anything left to ask?” $advancepast[He did. $advancepast[<div class="choicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why did you turn the first vampire?” ⇒->4A1. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why does the sun hate vampires?” ⇒->4A2. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Can vampirism be undone?” ⇒->4A3. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Will it hurt?” ⇒->4A4. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[V.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Witching Hour | Pitfall.] <div class="presentpsg">Sparks of pain twitched Lysander’s silver-scorched fingers. $advancepresent[He was lying on his back, gazing up and out of the pit to the sky beyond. The moon had drifted out of view, leaving behind a wake of glittering starlight. The wind must had shifted while he’d been stunned, to have cleared away the smoke that had cloaked the forest. And what a cruel wind it was, to ensure that dawn would be right on schedule. Radiance inviolate. $advancepresent[Lysander felt it in his bones; they itched as the night progressed further and further. Some instinctive sign that it was time to slink back to somewhere safe and dark. He could not yet rest. $advancepresent[Lysander groaned as he sat up, shaking more dirt from his hair and retying the ribbon. A spiderweb of silver wire gleamed where he’d scratched away the flakes of dried mud from the mouth of the pit. To consign that much silver to a vampire death trap required hatred with extravagant funding. $advancepresent[No doubt, this was the work of the dorries. Was there no escaping it? $advancepresent[As a child, Lysander had read tales of legendary vampires who lived in remote fortresses and castles. Their mere presence in the world bent the sky to perennial gloom; the sun dared not show itself where they walked. Now, he wondered if there was something more insidious about the stories told about these vampires. They had been terrifying in their brutality, their despotic violence justifying their extermination; yet, felled by weak heroes with humble remedies. $advancepresent[That was the lot of a vampire: to be strong and weak in equal measure; to die and bring the populace pleasure. $advancepresent[And those were *rich* vampires. $advancepresent[Lysander wondered if Kembrael would be disappointed in him. He’d survived another what… five years? That was hardly spiting Death. She probably hadn’t even noticed the time missing from her accounts. $advancepresent[Battered though he was, Lysander wasn’t willing to give up. He stood, debris cascading off his clothes. He leaned against the side of the pit for support as he composed himself. $advancepresent[Once he felt stable enough to pace, he took a closer look at the wall he had been climbing. The exposed silver had been a nasty surprise, and likely, more of it lurked in the walls of the trap. However, his repeated attempts to climb out had inflicted meaningful damage. That side of the enclosure had crumbled, becoming moderately less sheer and offering a few extra inches of give that it hadn’t before. $advancepresent[As reckless as it sounded to keep trying the same thing that had already not worked, Lysander considered it. Another possibility occurred to him, perhaps equally perilous. To call for help. Would anyone be near enough to hear him? Would they be willing, let alone able, to aid a vampire who might immediately turn on them in pursuit of fresh blood? $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[IV.] (text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Elsewhere.] <div class="pastpsg">What remained of a man... $advancepast[ (align:"==><=")[...drifted in soft fog…] $advancepast[ (align:"=><==")[...guided by wind unfelt… ] $advancepast[ (align:"==>")[...toward some unfathomable destination.] $advancepast[ Something tugged at his hand. $advancepast[He glanced over his shoulder. Among the indistinct haze was a gap, not unlike a canyon cloven through stone. Lysander shivered, suddenly fearful of where he’d been floating. $advancepast[The fog was cold and spare. Numbing. Gray. Through this cleft flowed sweet glows of green and gold whose heat took hold. $advancepast[He followed its beckoning, climbing through the gap into a humid, marshy hollow. Strange plants grew here, leaves speckled red and brown, the fronds of great ferns unfurling. Jewel-bright insects paid Lysander little heed as they flitted twixt flowers that glistened with sticky sap. $advancepast[“Care to join me?” called a melodic voice from up ahead. An uncanny being was seated at an unusual table. They had perched themselves on a log at the great stump, wine-colored hair tumbling behind them. Their eyes were curiously golden; their fingers ended in black claws that were wickedly sharp. They appeared to be serving tea. $advancepast[“Um—hello,” Lysander said, before sitting across from them. “You may call me Kembrael.” They tilted their head, smiling. “What is your name?” “Lysander,” he said. “But what is—I mean, where am—” Kembrael held up their hand to quell his tide of questions. Silt-dark veins crossed their palm as though it were a river delta. “It’s best to be direct in these matters. You died. You are dead. Tea?” $advancepast[“Dead?” Unwelcome memories flooded back to him. You know the ones. “Yes.” They lifted an ivory-tinged teapot, pouring an amber liquid into two hollowed out gourd halves. “Dead.” “I’m dead. But...” Lysander’s mouth had gone dry. “I’m dead. Is this... Hell?” $advancepast[Kembrael laughed, sharp and bright. “How very dare you! Goodness. My beautiful garden… that’s what you think Hell is?” “I didn’t—” “I mean, I’ve considered moving there,” they said. “The most fabulous archfiend has been trying to court me for ages. I’m not *not* interested, but... still. I don’t think I could spend my existence somewhere so...” They waved their hands, as if that explained it. “You get it, I’m sure.” “I’m dead.” $advancepast[“Right.” Kembrael clicked their claws against the side of their gourd, sending ripples across the surface of their tea. “You’re wondering why you ended up in this fey place, yes? When you died, you were buried according to old traditions. *My* traditions. You were drained of blood and gifted a fig.” $advancepast[Lysander looked down, realizing that he was indeed holding a soft, purple fruit that fit neatly into his hand. “Has that—was that always there?” They shrugged. “What’s important is what it represents—your soul. And what a beautiful thing it is, a fig, made delectable by the wasp that gave herself to its pollination, crawling inside to spread her brood. You should be careful with it.” He examined the fruit. It was bruised, but hardly wrinkled. $advancepast[Kembrael continued. “Here’s your choice. You can proceed to death—whatever you were in the process of doing before you stopped by. Simply eat the fig, merge back with your soul and, if you’re feeling dramatic, jump into that pool.” They indicated a patch of what resembled dark, still water. “If that prospect does not fill you with an exceptional amount of relief or contentment, you can take the other path. Become a vampire, and return to... well, it’s not exactly life, but it is a kind of survival.” $advancepast[“A vampire? People hate vampires,” Lysander said, cradling the fig to him. “I... I’m afraid of them.” “I know.” Kembrael sighed. “My beautiful and meaningful traditions have been neglected. Vampires turning other generations of vampires without proper rites. Without a choice. The choice that I am offering you.” Lysander weighed their words. “I would… return, and then what? I would be hunted? Become a monster lurking in the shadows, preying upon people... like she did to me?” $advancepast[“I will tell you the things that you must know,” they said, voice growing firm. “Do not forget my words. To become a vampire is to spite Death. Powerful though I am, I must admit that I cannot overrule her completely. I can grant you strength, speed, and cunning that you never had before. You will grow fangs powerful enough to pierce necks. But Death fights my gifts with vengeful curses. The heartwood of trees abhors you; let not its splinters pierce your flesh. Silver will scorch you; so too will the sanctified artifacts of so-styled holy men. But above all, your foe is the sun. Its glare is fatal to a vampire. To be seen by daylight is to perish, irrevocably.” $advancepast[Lysander sat in silence as they continued. “You will crave fresh blood. Maintaining your existence will cause pain to others. Perhaps you will become numb to inflicting this violence. Perhaps you will resent who or what the hunger forges you into. You will be hunted. You will be hated. But you will have the gift of more life. More time. That is the meaning of this choice.” $advancepast[“What do you even get out of this?” Lysander asked. “Making desperate people who have just... died—I’m dead!—into monsters?” “A bite of your fig,” Kembrael said. “And the piece of your soul it bears. While you’re out there enjoying or suffering your continued existence as a vampire, I hold onto that bit of soul and use that power for my own ends. The spiritual implications are concerning, no doubt, but I’ve never cared much for theology.” $advancepast[“So you’re some kind of demon, then. If souls are what you’re after.” “Does that terrify you, dead boy?” They laughed, less kindly this time. “That you might be speaking with a demon? How awful of me, to have threatened you with some quality conversation and a fair assessment of your options. If you do walk the earth again, monsters and fiends and other downtrodden dark ones wandering the mortal realm will become your most likely allies. There is community among the reviled. Perhaps you owe them some grace.” $advancepast[“I want it,” Lysander said. “To go back and keep going. To have more time. Who wouldn’t? Who could actually choose death? But I just... to survive, I have to kill people? I don’t think I can do it. Killing people night after night.” $advancepast[“You have the wrong idea,” Kembrael said. “Well—many vampires kill to satiate themselves. That’s true. I suspect that’s why Death even allows me to do this, claiming more lives for each that I extend. How I loathe her power… I can’t even win by spiting her. But, no. You don’t have to kill. You don’t need a lot of blood at once; you could try to negotiate for it. The nature of your cravings is unpredicatable. However, the one who killed you did so in a merciful way. She was kinder than she was cruel. That leaves an imprint, influencing the vampire you turn out to be.” $advancepast[Lysander cupped the tender fig in his hands, looking at it, trying to anchor himself to an understanding of what it would mean to give away a part of it to this otherworldly being. But, in the end, it wasn’t much of a choice. He wasn’t ready to die. $advancepast[“Here you go,” he said, reaching across the stump’s endless rings to offer Kembrael the fig. They plucked it gently from his hands, brought it to their lips, and took a bite. Something dark dribbled down their chin as they closed their eyes, savoring the taste of it. $advancepast[Lysander felt no different. $advancepast[Finally, Kembrael spoke once again. “How delicate a flavor you have, my dear.” They handed back the fig, claws brushing against Lysander’s fingers. “Before you eat the rest and awaken to your next night, do you have anything left to ask?” $advancepast[He did. $advancepast[<div class="choicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why did you turn the first vampire?” ⇒->4B1. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why does the sun hate vampires?” ⇒->4B2. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Can vampirism be undone?” ⇒->4B3. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Will it hurt?” ⇒->4B4. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[IV.] (text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Elsewhere.] <div class="pastpsg">What remained of a man... $advancepast[ (align:"==><=")[...drifted in soft fog…] $advancepast[ (align:"=><==")[...guided by wind unfelt… ] $advancepast[ (align:"==>")[...toward some unfathomable destination.] $advancepast[ Something tugged at his hand. $advancepast[He glanced over his shoulder. Among the indistinct haze was a gap, not unlike a canyon cloven through stone. Lysander shivered, suddenly fearful of where he’d been floating. $advancepast[The fog was cold and spare. Numbing. Gray. Through this cleft flowed sweet glows of green and gold whose heat took hold. $advancepast[He followed its beckoning, climbing through the gap into a humid, marshy hollow. Strange plants grew here, leaves speckled red and brown, the fronds of great ferns unfurling. Jewel-bright insects paid Lysander little heed as they flitted twixt flowers that glistened with sticky sap. $advancepast[“Care to join me?” called a melodic voice from up ahead. An uncanny being was seated at an unusual table. They had perched themselves on a log at the great stump, wine-colored hair tumbling behind them. Their eyes were curiously golden; their fingers ended in black claws that were wickedly sharp. They appeared to be serving tea. $advancepast[“Um—hello,” Lysander said, before sitting across from them. “You may call me Kembrael.” They tilted their head, smiling. “What is your name?” “Lysander,” he said. “But what is—I mean, where am—” Kembrael held up their hand to quell his tide of questions. Silt-dark veins crossed their palm as though it were a river delta. “It’s best to be direct in these matters. You died. You are dead. Tea?” $advancepast[“Dead?” Unwelcome memories flooded back to him. You know the ones. “Yes.” They lifted an ivory-tinged teapot, pouring an amber liquid into two hollowed out gourd halves. “Dead.” “I’m dead. But...” Lysander’s mouth had gone dry. “I’m dead. Is this... Hell?” $advancepast[Kembrael laughed, sharp and bright. “How very dare you! Goodness. My beautiful garden… that’s what you think Hell is?” “I didn’t—” “I mean, I’ve considered moving there,” they said. “The most fabulous archfiend has been trying to court me for ages. I’m not *not* interested, but... still. I don’t think I could spend my existence somewhere so...” They waved their hands, as if that explained it. “You get it, I’m sure.” “I’m dead.” $advancepast[“Right.” Kembrael clicked their claws against the side of their gourd, sending ripples across the surface of their tea. “You’re wondering why you ended up in this fey place, yes? When you died, you were buried according to old traditions. *My* traditions. You were drained of blood and gifted a fig.” $advancepast[Lysander looked down, realizing that he was indeed holding a soft, purple fruit that fit neatly into his hand. “Has that—was that always there?” They shrugged. “What’s important is what it represents—your soul. And what a beautiful thing it is, a fig, made delectable by the wasp that gave herself to its pollination, crawling inside to spread her brood. You should be careful with it.” He examined the fruit. It was bruised, but hardly wrinkled. $advancepast[Kembrael continued. “Here’s your choice. You can proceed to death—whatever you were in the process of doing before you stopped by. Simply eat the fig, merge back with your soul and, if you’re feeling dramatic, jump into that pool.” They indicated a patch of what resembled dark, still water. “If that prospect does not fill you with an exceptional amount of relief or contentment, you can take the other path. Become a vampire, and return to... well, it’s not exactly life, but it is a kind of survival.” $advancepast[“A vampire? People hate vampires,” Lysander said, cradling the fig to him. “I... I’m afraid of them.” “I know.” Kembrael sighed. “My beautiful and meaningful traditions have been neglected. Vampires turning other generations of vampires without proper rites. Without a choice. The choice that I am offering you.” Lysander weighed their words. “I would… return, and then what? I would be hunted? Become a monster lurking in the shadows, preying upon people... like she did to me?” $advancepast[“I will tell you the things that you must know,” they said, voice growing firm. “Do not forget my words. To become a vampire is to spite Death. Powerful though I am, I must admit that I cannot overrule her completely. I can grant you strength, speed, and cunning that you never had before. You will grow fangs powerful enough to pierce necks. But Death fights my gifts with vengeful curses. The heartwood of trees abhors you; let not its splinters pierce your flesh. Silver will scorch you; so too will the sanctified artifacts of so-styled holy men. But above all, your foe is the sun. Its glare is fatal to a vampire. To be seen by daylight is to perish, irrevocably.” $advancepast[Lysander sat in silence as they continued. “You will crave fresh blood. Maintaining your existence will cause pain to others. Perhaps you will become numb to inflicting this violence. Perhaps you will resent who or what the hunger forges you into. You will be hunted. You will be hated. But you will have the gift of more life. More time. That is the meaning of this choice.” $advancepast[“What do you even get out of this?” Lysander asked. “Making desperate people who have just... died—I’m dead!—into monsters?” “A bite of your fig,” Kembrael said. “And the piece of your soul it bears. While you’re out there enjoying or suffering your continued existence as a vampire, I hold onto that bit of soul and use that power for my own ends. The spiritual implications are concerning, no doubt, but I’ve never cared much for theology.” $advancepast[“So you’re some kind of demon, then. If souls are what you’re after.” “Does that terrify you, dead boy?” They laughed, less kindly this time. “That you might be speaking with a demon? How awful of me, to have threatened you with some quality conversation and a fair assessment of your options. If you do walk the earth again, monsters and fiends and other downtrodden dark ones wandering the mortal realm will become your most likely allies. There is community among the reviled. Perhaps you owe them some grace.” $advancepast[“I want it,” Lysander said. “To go back and keep going. To have more time. Who wouldn’t? Who could actually choose death? But I just... to survive, I have to kill people? I don’t think I can do it. Killing people night after night.” $advancepast[“You have the wrong idea,” Kembrael said. “Well—many vampires kill to satiate themselves. That’s true. I suspect that’s why Death even allows me to do this, claiming more lives for each that I extend. How I loathe her power… I can’t even win by spiting her. But, no. You don’t have to kill. You don’t need a lot of blood at once; you could try to negotiate for it. The nature of your cravings is unpredicatable. However, the one who killed you did so in a merciful way. She was kinder than she was cruel. That leaves an imprint, influencing the vampire you turn out to be.” $advancepast[Lysander cupped the tender fig in his hands, looking at it, trying to anchor himself to an understanding of what it would mean to give away a part of it to this otherworldly being. But, in the end, it wasn’t much of a choice. He wasn’t ready to die. $advancepast[“Here you go,” he said, reaching across the stump’s endless rings to offer Kembrael the fig. They plucked it gently from his hands, brought it to their lips, and took a bite. Something dark dribbled down their chin as they closed their eyes, savoring the taste of it. $advancepast[Lysander felt no different. $advancepast[Finally, Kembrael spoke once again. “How delicate a flavor you have, my dear.” They handed back the fig, claws brushing against Lysander’s fingers. “Before you eat the rest and awaken to your next night, do you have anything left to ask?” $advancepast[He did. $advancepast[<div class="choicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why did you turn the first vampire?” ⇒->4C1. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why does the sun hate vampires?” ⇒->4C2. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Can vampirism be undone?” ⇒->4C3. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Will it hurt?” ⇒->4C4. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[V.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Witching Hour | Pitfall.] <div class="presentpsg">Unlike Lysander, the moon had made significant progress. $advancepresent[He’d wasted precious time scraping the ground and scratching dried mud off the walls of the pit. Each test revealed another patch of silver. It mocked his efforts, winking under the starlight. Lysander felt nauseous, the metallic miasma now stifling. He sat, leaning against one of the walls, trying to shake off his vertigo. $advancepresent[He’d never been around such an extreme amount of silver. Its toxicity had caught him off guard. The price of this death trap must have been staggering. He struggled to comprehend it; to have wealth to squander on such a cruel endeavor as this. $advancepresent[Was it some kind of spiteful irony? As a child, Lysander had read tales of vampiric aristocrats. Tyrants who haunted giant, miserable castles. Those storied vampires had been sadistic. Even with access to more blood and sunless space than any could need, they furnished their chambers with devices that slashed and tore and bruised and ripped and stretched. For them, blood extraction had become secondary. The warm pleasure of feeding had sublimated; leaving darker pleasures behind. $advancepresent[Torment for the sake of torment. Pain for the sake of pain. Power for the sake of power. $advancepresent[Lysander wondered now about the scribes for these tales. Humans who recounted with breathless fervor the precise mechanics of such torturous instruments. How would they have justified it? Would they say that the sins of a vampire must be documented? It would be historical malpractice to omit the most lurid details, sparing the reputations of monsters. Their readers deserved to know what they were up against. $advancepresent[He snorted. Evidently, rich vampire lords were far from the only ones who took pleasure from agony. Was that the point of this trap? If killing vampires was the goal, it could have been done quickly and efficiently. More and sharper stakes. Silver exposed from the outset, rather than slathered with dirt and mud. It wasn’t enough for the dorries to see him dead. They wanted him to suffer for that most grievous of sins: refusing the sun. $advancepresent[Righteousness, a path winding back to senseless cruelty. Radiance in violence. $advancepresent[Lysander shook his head. Hunger, exhaustion, and silver exposure had clearly taken a harsh toll. The motivations of his would-be killers mattered less than the pragmatics of escape. Vertigo abated, he stood. He had ideas for what to try next. $advancepresent[Though the silver mesh had been dispiriting, a distant memory swam to the forefront of his mind, from before he had even become a vampire. He’d been struggling to break down wooden crates for his boss, until another worker had told him to bash them on their corners, where the joints were the most vulnerable. That could apply here, couldn’t it? Perhaps there was a gap in the silver mesh where the ground met sheer walls. A corner to exploit. He sighed. Digging based on a hunch, with no real tools and little time? That was the best he could come up with? $advancepresent[There was another possibility that had been stewing at the back of his mind: to call for help. This seemed truly perilous. If the pit had been constructed not only to kill, but also to torment, wouldn’t it follow that the person most likely to be in its vicinity would be its maker? They’d want to watch. Wouldn’t they? But his shouts could also draw anyone else to this pit. Maybe even someone he had a chance to reason with. $advancepresent[Neither option sounded that promising, but he had to try something. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[V.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Witching Hour | Pitfall.] <div class="presentpsg">Lysander’s dedicated observation betrayed more of the pit’s trappings. $advancepresent[Silver lined the walls, metal mesh revealed by careful scraping. Its noxious aura unnerved him, but he staved off the worst of its influence. His inspection of the ground turned up a few loose stones. Perhaps he could shatter mirrors with them, but they were many, and he was weak. What, then, had caution afforded him? $advancepresent[Had deliberation become a mask for indecision? $advancepresent[Lysander stopped pacing, gazing down toward his feet. $advancepresent[For all his detective work, straining to see and hear and smell at the barest edges of perception, he’d overlooked the trap’s most basic feature. Wooden stakes. “Too clever by half,” Lysander mused. “Or hardly clever at all?” He’d still been thinking like a vampire, stepping gingerly around their vicious points. $advancepresent[Kembrael’s warning echoed in his mind. “Let not its splinters pierce your flesh.” That’s what they had said. But what was the purpose of a stake, if not to spear a much less fragile foe? $advancepresent[Dirt. $advancepresent[As presently arranged, these heartwood spikes lanced upward from the ground. With a simple rotation of perspective, could they not instead be driven into walls? Three or four stakes, appropriately spaced, could transform an unscalable cliff into an improvised ladder. This prospect gave Lysander no small measure of vindictive pleasure; to turn these tools of terror toward a purpose fairer. $advancepresent[Still, there were problems. Stakes were dangerous for a vampire to handle. He didn’t know exactly what would happen if their splinters broke off into his skin. But, if it were anything like how it felt to grasp silver, this wasn’t the time to find out. That wasn’t even the end of it. To dig them out of the ground was one thing; to thrust them into the wall was another. In such a state of hunger, would he have the strength to drive them? If he did, would they support his weight without fail? $advancepresent[Another option remained untapped. It had lingered at the back of Lysander’s mind—the recognition that it was far more difficult to escape a trap alone than with help. He could call for aid. Scream into the staling night. That brought its own dangers. Everything he’d uncovered about this pit signaled a dedicated, resourceful operation. The illusory deer—an impressive feat of witchcraft. Few could conjure such phantasms. The silver lining—a cruel expression of outlandish wealth. Few could afford such sadism. Worst of all, the mirrors—numerous and subtle in their arrangement, deadly at dawn. Few could sustain such fastidiousness. His shouts could draw the dorries. But they might also draw someone else to his rescue. Someone he could reason with. $advancepresent[Neither option lacked peril, but the time for hesitance had passed. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(set: $advancesilver to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#657487)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#bcd0e2")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Argentime | Silverance.]</div> <div class="silverpsg">Death approached from above. $advancesilver[Her face sublime darkness he could not gaze into. Her hair blue-bright fire that seared red streaks across sickled eyes. Her vestments gossamer shawls whose edges wisped into smoke. Quicksilver pooled at his fingertips, braiding stars into her wrappings. She bowed, unspooling tendrils of light that streamed all around him. Uncanny faces writhed unfabric. $advancesilver[(align:"==>")[First came the voice of René.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would mortals lament you. How could black boots ever mourn crushed dirt?”] $advancesilver[(align:"<==")[Second came the voice of Kembrael.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would time pardon you. How could eternal designs ever spare crumbling bones?”] $advancesilver[(align:"==>")[Third came the voice of Camille.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would purpose free you. How could numb fingers ever cradle dreams?”] $advancesilver[(align:"<==")[Fourth came the voice of Gwendolyn.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would aesthetes revere you. How could rotten tongues ever savor mold?”] $advancesilver[(align:"==>")[Fifth came the voice of Gannethil.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would love warm you. How could wayward devils ever lap at blissful saucers?”] $advancesilver[(align:"<==")[Last came the voice of Death.] (align:"=><=")[She said—] $advancesilver[(align:"===><=")[nothing] $advancesilver[(align:"=><===")[—at all.] $advancesilver[“Lysander,” he insisted. “I’m Lysander.” $advancesilver[<div class="choicesilverpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#b3bbc7)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Desilver. ⇒->7AA. Present]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]</div>

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancegan to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#6e00bc")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Chthontemps.] <div class="ganpsg">Strictly speaking, Chthontemps didn’t exist. $advancegan[Not to the sun, whose rays could never dream of tormenting its depths. Not to the city’s auditors, whose ledgers remained bereft of swindled taxes. And certainly not to the patrons in the tavern above, who drank and danced and sang and loved and fought, never troubled by thoughts that disreputable creatures might congregate beneath their feet. Chthontemps, a bar that didn’t exist, was dying. $advancegan[It was past midnight. Lysander had delivered the latest shipment from the dairy, to the relief of the barkeep. He’d tried crossing into the city for the last two nights, but the patrolling dorries had escalated their presence. He lingered, craving blood—of course, always—but more importantly, connection. Once cozy, Chthontemps now felt sparse, its few patrons sitting far apart, their distance tense. One of them caught Lysander’s eye. $advancegan[Tucked away in one of the corners was a table featuring a purple-skinned devil wearing a shabby pinstriped suit. “May I sit?” Lysander asked. The devil appraised him, eyes bright and alert. “Of course.” With surprising grace, he gathered loose paperwork spread across the table, filed it into a battered briefcase, and clicked the latch closed. Lysander sat across from him, watching his progress. The devil had a shock of coiffed hair, dark with a few distinguished streaks of silver. One of his horns had broken off, leaving behind a scarred stump. Lysander touched his own chest, instinctively, where the crossbow bolt had pierced him. $advancegan[“To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” the devil asked, claws tapping the rim of his goblet. “I’m Lysander. Just passing through here, I guess.” He paused. “I’ve never seen Chthontemps this empty. I hope you don’t mind the company.” “Well met,” the man across from him said. “I’m Gannethil. I work in the city.” $advancegan[They sat in silence for a few companionable moments. Gannethil sipped from his goblet, which started smoking slightly as he set it back down. Lysander peered at the seething liquid, incredulous. “Are you—are you drinking *holy water*?” $advancegan[“I can’t get drunk here. Demon metabolism, you know. This is the only thing I can drink that has much of a kick.” He seemed to make a realization of his own. “Ah—I’m sorry. I guess I can’t feed you tonight, if that’s what you were hoping for. I mean, unless you particularly want to find out happens to a vampire that drinks infernal ichor infused with holy water. A contradiction of flavors if I’ve ever heard of one.” “You do smell like you’d be delicious,” Lysander said. He grew mortified as his thoughts caught up to his words. $advancegan[Gannethil stared at him for a beat, and then laughed. “You know what? Thank you. That’s absurd, what you just said, and I think we both know that. But thank you.” He adjusted his tie with an idle claw. “You know what? I like you. It reminds me of this establishment’s better nights. There used to always be someone new and interesting. I couldn’t tell you how many clients I’ve gotten here.” “Clients?” “I work at the judicial bureau, as a public defender. You know, for the ones like us who none of the humans will represent at their tribunals. It’s grim work.” “What?” Lysander asked. “You work for the city? The dorries? I know they hate vampires, but they must *really* hate devils. Why lend them any legitimacy? Why pretend their laws are worth the paper they’re scribed upon?” $advancegan[“That’s true,” Gannethil said. “I absolutely frequent this bar and drink toxic substances because I want to think *more* about my job. You’re right.” “Oh no—” Lysander began. “I’m sorry, I—” $advancegan[“No, it’s fine. Really. I brought it up. I’ll tell you. The first reason is, I don’t think there’s any way I can fulfill the terms of my original summoning contract at this point. If I did return to Hell, in violation of certain clauses… I won’t traumatize you with the details. But listen. The Disciples tried to smite me once and failed.” Gannethil gestured to his broken horn. “I don’t want them to keep trying. Call it vanity if you must, but I’d like to keep my other horn. I’m rather fond of it. I know mortals. If they keep trying, eventually they’ll find a way to conduct a proper demonic banishment. At least in this role, I provide them enough a service to discourage, or at least delay that.” $advancegan[“Self-preservation then?” Lysander mulled it over. “I guess that makes sense.” $advancegan[The devil continued, readier to vent about his work than he’d been willing to admit. “The second reason is that... look, I wouldn’t dare be so *prideful* as to brag, but I’m a good lawyer? Sure, some of my clients are terrified of me. And perhaps a few have forfeited cases just to escape my presence. But, uh... well, the ones that give me a chance? The solicitor prime, for all his dedication in appeasing the Disciples and their lust to smite this and purge that, is lazy and overconfident. I win some of those cases. And you know what that means? One more werewolf, half-fiend, or eldritch abomination relieved of a gruesome fate, out there with another chance.” $advancegan[“So, it’s charity.” Lysander wasn’t sure where the devil was going with all this, but it was the most he had spoken with anyone for weeks. “How virtuous!” “Oh yes,” Gannethil leaned forward, eyes glittering. “My virtues are legion. Just don’t mention that around my archfiend. I wouldn’t want her to think any less of me than she already does.” “What’s the real reason, then?” Lysander asked. “Not that I don’t believe you. I’m sure those explanations have truth to them. But there’s something else, isn’t there?” $advancegan[“I’m afraid so,” he said. “The real reason, then. Well. It’s the same reason, I imagine, that someone of your fanged disposition might hang around abattoirs. Hunger.” His gaze had an intensity that Lysander hadn’t seen before. “The tribunals. All that anxiety, sadness, and fear? There is perhaps no greater concentration of misery, for leagues upon leagues in any possible direction, than what resides at the heart of the Vintopol Judicial Bureau.” The tension in his shoulders eased a bit. “Look. I mean well, I do. But I am still a demon, and being around that suffering feels... good to me. I can’t explain it, except to say it’s the only way I can feel sated. For a time. They get expert legal representation from one of Hell’s premiere earthbound deadbeats, and in return, I dine on their shadows. Maybe you think it’s abhorrent—utmost sympathies—but maybe you get it, with the whole blood thing? Should I have to starve myself out of existence just because I’m stuck here?” $advancegan[“No, I think I get it,” Lysander said, reaching his hand across the table to rest upon Gannethil’s. “I mean, I don’t hang out at abattoirs. For me, it’s the hunt. The bloodlust draws me out of hiding. They are so reckless—the hunters, I mean. And cruel. Leaving terrified creatures to die when their aim is less than true. I can grant them a swifter death, and also feed. That’s how my sire Camille turned me, so I can’t help but return to that feeling. The forest calls to me.” $advancegan[Gannethil let Lysander’s hand linger over his. “I sure regret drinking all that holy water now.” He sighed a bit more dramatically than was strictly necessary. “To be poor, beleaguered prey, and let a big, strong vampire grant mercy to me? I guess I might be into that.” “I—what?” Lysander’s nearly bloodless cheeks grew warm with the ghost of a blush. “Don’t tease me like that!” “Oh come on, that’s too forward? You’re the one who approached me, after all.” His lips quirked into a wicked grin. “And you know what else you said? You told me I, and this is a direct quote, ‘smell like I’d be delicious.’ How is a sweet innocent fiend meant to take such statements?” He withdrew a small, purple card from the breast pocket on his suit jacket. “I should leave you a chance to find a more suitable meal. But, think it over. If you *are* interested, stop by my office some other night? I would love to explore this further.” He paused. “Or I guess if you need actual legal representation?” $advancegan[<div class="choiceganpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#8351a6")))[[[Accept. ⇒->6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Decline. ⇒->6ABB. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Chthontemps.] <div class="ganpsg">Lysander had his doubts about devils. $advancepast[A mote of disappointment wafted across Gannethil’s face as he processed the awkwardness of an unexpected rejection. The card vanished in a puff of lilac-scented smoke. Lysander was gripped with an emotion he didn’t fully understand. Regret? $advancepast[The moment passed. Gannethil gave him a polite smile. “Do try to stay out of trouble, won’t you?” He hadn’t. Clearly. $advancepast[Two nights later, the Disciples of Radiance Inviolate had finally followed through on their threats to topple civil governance in Vintopol. Dozens, if not hundreds, had been killed in the frenzy. Destroyed, the dorries might call it. $advancepast[Purged. $advancepast[Smote. $advancepast[Exorcised. $advancepast[Eradicated. $advancepast[Purified. $advancepast[Words that eclipsed the true meaning of what they had wrought. $advancepast[And so, Lysander had fled, never knowing if Gannethil had escaped that grim fate. $advancepast[<div class="choiceganpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Despair. ⇒->7ABB. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander had worn his voice hoarse shouting for help, but no one had answered his calls. Was this all that remained? Facing the dawn exhausted and alone? Shivering, he hugged his coat around himself. Something glinted in one of the pockets. He pulled it out. $advancepresent[ <div class="gannethilcard">(text-size: 1.6)[**GANNETHIL**] Attorney at Claw Public Defender | Infernal Advocate In Absentia Limited Availability</div> $advancepresent[“Did it say that before?” he muttered. The card’s golden ink glittered mysteriously. $advancepresent[Lysander gave a wan smile, remembering their odd but intriguing encounter at Chthontemps. Had he known just how close everything had been to the precipice… the things he would’ve done. Despite the hushed chill that had settled over the pit, the paper felt warm. “Gannethil?” he whispered. “Are you there? I need help. I need... you. I *really* need you. Please.” Nothing happened. $advancepresent[At first. $advancepresent[Out of the still night air burst a gout of violet flame that stank of brimstone, charring several of the scattered wooden spikes as it flared. Lysander shrieked and fell backward. There stood Gannethil, fresh scratches across his face, eyes ablaze with hellfire, suit ripped and torn and stained. A sinister sight. But alive. $advancepresent[And grinning. $advancepresent[“My goodness, Lysander,” Gannethil said. “I hardly expected *you* to scream when you saw me.” He extended his hand. Lysander grasped it, letting the devil guide him back to his feet. “You’re alive! You escaped. I’m so, I’m so—” He was barely holding in tears. $advancepresent[“Hey,” Gannethil said, voice suddenly soft as he rested a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.” He looked around. “What even is this place? You know what, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. How are *you*? Do you need blood?” “Yes,” Lysander said. “Please—it’s been so long—” $advancepresent[“By all means.” Gannethil offered his neck. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the devil’s tie to pull himself close, sinking his fangs into lavender skin. Gannethil let out a sharp gasp, but held fast as the vampire drank. $advancepresent[Heat. $advancepresent[Blissful heat. $advancepresent[Blistering heat. $advancepresent[Lysander coughed as the demon’s ichor scorched the back of his throat, but gulped it nonetheless, fire flooding from his gut to his extremities. He detached from Gannethil, wishing to stay close, but releasing him nonetheless. “Not exactly the fantasy I envisioned,” the devil said, attending to his wound with a prim handkerchief. “But I don’t hate it. We can unpack that later.” “Thank you,” Lysander said dreamily, his vision sharper, the world brighter than it had been for weeks. $advancepresent[“Let’s get out of here before the sun rises, yeah?” “Yeah.” $advancepresent[Gannethil wrapped his arms around Lysander. $advancepresent[In another flash of hellfire, they departed for darker hollows. $advancepresent[Together. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#8351a6")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8ABA. Gannethil]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#a67dd1)[Diabolus ex Machina] Lysander escaped dawn in the arms of radiance in violet.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to accept Gannethil’s card. How romantic. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancegan to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#6e00bc")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Chthontemps.] <div class="ganpsg">Strictly speaking, Chthontemps didn’t exist. $advancegan[Not to the sun, whose rays could never dream of tormenting its depths. Not to the city’s auditors, whose ledgers remained bereft of swindled taxes. And certainly not to the patrons in the tavern above, who drank and danced and sang and loved and fought, never troubled by thoughts that disreputable creatures might congregate beneath their feet. Chthontemps, a bar that didn’t exist, was dying. $advancegan[It was past midnight. Lysander had delivered the latest shipment from the dairy, to the relief of the barkeep. He’d tried crossing into the city for the last two nights, but the patrolling dorries had escalated their presence. He lingered, craving blood—of course, always—but more importantly, connection. Once cozy, Chthontemps now felt sparse, its few patrons sitting far apart, their distance tense. One of them caught Lysander’s eye. $advancegan[Tucked away in one of the corners was a table featuring a purple-skinned devil wearing a shabby pinstriped suit. “May I sit?” Lysander asked. The devil appraised him, eyes bright and alert. “Of course.” With surprising grace, he gathered loose paperwork spread across the table, filed it into a battered briefcase, and clicked the latch closed. Lysander sat across from him, watching his progress. The devil had a shock of coiffed hair, dark with a few distinguished streaks of silver. One of his horns had broken off, leaving behind a scarred stump. Lysander touched his own chest, instinctively, where the crossbow bolt had pierced him. $advancegan[“To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” the devil asked, claws tapping the rim of his goblet. “I’m Lysander. Just passing through here, I guess.” He paused. “I’ve never seen Chthontemps this empty. I hope you don’t mind the company.” “Well met,” the man across from him said. “I’m Gannethil. I work in the city.” $advancegan[They sat in silence for a few companionable moments. Gannethil sipped from his goblet, which started smoking slightly as he set it back down. Lysander peered at the seething liquid, incredulous. “Are you—are you drinking *holy water*?” $advancegan[“I can’t get drunk here. Demon metabolism, you know. This is the only thing I can drink that has much of a kick.” He seemed to make a realization of his own. “Ah—I’m sorry. I guess I can’t feed you tonight, if that’s what you were hoping for. I mean, unless you particularly want to find out happens to a vampire that drinks infernal ichor infused with holy water. A contradiction of flavors if I’ve ever heard of one.” “You do smell like you’d be delicious,” Lysander said. He grew mortified as his thoughts caught up to his words. $advancegan[Gannethil stared at him for a beat, and then laughed. “You know what? Thank you. That’s absurd, what you just said, and I think we both know that. But thank you.” He adjusted his tie with an idle claw. “You know what? I like you. It reminds me of this establishment’s better nights. There used to always be someone new and interesting. I couldn’t tell you how many clients I’ve gotten here.” “Clients?” “I work at the judicial bureau, as a public defender. You know, for the ones like us who none of the humans will represent at their tribunals. It’s grim work.” “What?” Lysander asked. “You work for the city? The dorries? I know they hate vampires, but they must *really* hate devils. Why lend them any legitimacy? Why pretend their laws are worth the paper they’re scribed upon?” $advancegan[“That’s true,” Gannethil said. “I absolutely frequent this bar and drink toxic substances because I want to think *more* about my job. You’re right.” “Oh no—” Lysander began. “I’m sorry, I—” $advancegan[“No, it’s fine. Really. I brought it up. I’ll tell you. The first reason is, I don’t think there’s any way I can fulfill the terms of my original summoning contract at this point. If I did return to Hell, in violation of certain clauses… I won’t traumatize you with the details. But listen. The Disciples tried to smite me once and failed.” Gannethil gestured to his broken horn. “I don’t want them to keep trying. Call it vanity if you must, but I’d like to keep my other horn. I’m rather fond of it. I know mortals. If they keep trying, eventually they’ll find a way to conduct a proper demonic banishment. At least in this role, I provide them enough a service to discourage, or at least delay that.” $advancegan[“Self-preservation then?” Lysander mulled it over. “I guess that makes sense.” $advancegan[The devil continued, readier to vent about his work than he’d been willing to admit. “The second reason is that... look, I wouldn’t dare be so *prideful* as to brag, but I’m a good lawyer? Sure, some of my clients are terrified of me. And perhaps a few have forfeited cases just to escape my presence. But, uh... well, the ones that give me a chance? The solicitor prime, for all his dedication in appeasing the Disciples and their lust to smite this and purge that, is lazy and overconfident. I win some of those cases. And you know what that means? One more werewolf, half-fiend, or eldritch abomination relieved of a gruesome fate, out there with another chance.” $advancegan[“So, it’s charity.” Lysander wasn’t sure where the devil was going with all this, but it was the most he had spoken with anyone for weeks. “How virtuous!” “Oh yes,” Gannethil leaned forward, eyes glittering. “My virtues are legion. Just don’t mention that around my archfiend. I wouldn’t want her to think any less of me than she already does.” “What’s the real reason, then?” Lysander asked. “Not that I don’t believe you. I’m sure those explanations have truth to them. But there’s something else, isn’t there?” $advancegan[“I’m afraid so,” he said. “The real reason, then. Well. It’s the same reason, I imagine, that someone of your fanged disposition might hang around abattoirs. Hunger.” His gaze had an intensity that Lysander hadn’t seen before. “The tribunals. All that anxiety, sadness, and fear? There is perhaps no greater concentration of misery, for leagues upon leagues in any possible direction, than what resides at the heart of the Vintopol Judicial Bureau.” The tension in his shoulders eased a bit. “Look. I mean well, I do. But I am still a demon, and being around that suffering feels... good to me. I can’t explain it, except to say it’s the only way I can feel sated. For a time. They get expert legal representation from one of Hell’s premiere earthbound deadbeats, and in return, I dine on their shadows. Maybe you think it’s abhorrent—utmost sympathies—but maybe you get it, with the whole blood thing? Should I have to starve myself out of existence just because I’m stuck here?” $advancegan[“No, I think I get it,” Lysander said, reaching his hand across the table to rest upon Gannethil’s. “I mean, I don’t hang out at abattoirs. For me, it’s the hunt. The bloodlust draws me out of hiding. They are so reckless—the hunters, I mean. And cruel. Leaving terrified creatures to die when their aim is less than true. I can grant them a swifter death, and also feed. That’s how my sire Camille turned me, so I can’t help but return to that feeling. The forest calls to me.” $advancegan[Gannethil let Lysander’s hand linger over his. “I sure regret drinking all that holy water now.” He sighed a bit more dramatically than was strictly necessary. “To be poor, beleaguered prey, and let a big, strong vampire grant mercy to me? I guess I might be into that.” “I—what?” Lysander’s nearly bloodless cheeks grew warm with the ghost of a blush. “Don’t tease me like that!” “Oh come on, that’s too forward? You’re the one who approached me, after all.” His lips quirked into a wicked grin. “And you know what else you said? You told me I, and this is a direct quote, ‘smell like I’d be delicious.’ How is a sweet innocent fiend meant to take such statements?” He withdrew a small, purple card from the breast pocket on his suit jacket. “I should leave you a chance to find a more suitable meal. But, think it over. If you *are* interested, stop by my office some other night? I would love to explore this further.” He paused. “Or I guess if you need actual legal representation?” $advancegan[<div class="choiceganpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#8351a6")))[[[Accept. ⇒->6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Decline. ⇒->6BAB. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Chthontemps.] <div class="ganpsg">Lysander had his doubts about devils. $advancepast[A mote of disappointment wafted across Gannethil’s face as he processed the awkwardness of an unexpected rejection. The card vanished in a puff of lilac-scented smoke. Lysander was gripped with an emotion he didn’t fully understand. Regret? $advancepast[The moment passed. Gannethil gave him a polite smile. “Do try to stay out of trouble, won’t you?” He hadn’t. Clearly. $advancepast[Two nights later, the Disciples of Radiance Inviolate had finally followed through on their threats to topple civil governance in Vintopol. Dozens, if not hundreds, had been killed in the frenzy. Destroyed, the dorries might call it. $advancepast[Purged. $advancepast[Smote. $advancepast[Exorcised. $advancepast[Eradicated. $advancepast[Purified. $advancepast[Words that eclipsed the true meaning of what they had wrought. $advancepast[And so, Lysander had fled, never knowing if Gannethil had escaped that grim fate. $advancepast[<div class="choiceganpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Despair. ⇒->7BAB. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander had attacked the seam mercilessly with the wrapped stake. He’d scraped and scraped, producing a modest pile of crumbling dried mud. But despite his efforts—despite giving more to the task than he could spare to give—all he’d accomplished was digging a trench a few inches deep. If that. $advancepresent[He could climb in, try to lie still beneath the slightest overhang, but it wasn’t going to work. There wasn’t even enough loose dirt to bury himself. Something fluttered out from his jacket pocket, glinting where it landed. Lysander picked it up. $advancepresent[ <div class="gannethilcard">(text-size: 1.6)[**GANNETHIL**] Attorney at Claw Public Defender | Infernal Advocate In Absentia Limited Availability</div> $advancepresent[“Did it say that before?” he muttered. The card’s golden ink glittered mysteriously. Lysander gave a wan smile, remembering their odd but intriguing encounter at Chthontemps. Had he known just how close everything had been to the precipice… the things he would’ve done. Despite the hushed chill that had settled over the pit, the paper felt warm. “Gannethil?” he whispered. “Are you there? I need help. I need... you. I *really* need you. Please.” Nothing happened. $advancepresent[At first. $advancepresent[Out of the still night air burst a gout of violet flame that stank of brimstone, charring several of the scattered wooden spikes as it flared. Lysander shrieked and fell backward. There stood Gannethil, fresh scratches across his face, eyes ablaze with hellfire, suit ripped and torn and stained. A sinister sight. But alive. $advancepresent[And grinning. $advancepresent[“My goodness, Lysander,” Gannethil said. “I hardly expected *you* to scream when you saw me.” He extended his hand. Lysander grasped it, letting the devil guide him back to his feet, and scattering dirt everywhere. “You’re alive! You escaped. I’m so, I’m so—” He was barely holding in tears. $advancepresent[“Hey,” Gannethil said, voice suddenly soft as he rested a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.” He looked around. “What even is this place? You know what, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. How are *you*? You’re filthy. Uh, sorry. But it *is* the truth. Do you need blood?” “Yes,” Lysander said. “Please—it’s been so long—” $advancepresent[“By all means.” Gannethil offered his neck. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the devil’s tie to pull himself close, sinking his fangs into lavender skin. Gannethil let out a sharp gasp, but held fast as the vampire drank. $advancepresent[Heat. $advancepresent[Blissful heat. $advancepresent[Blistering heat. $advancepresent[Lysander coughed as the demon’s ichor scorched the back of his throat, but gulped it nonetheless, fire flooding from his gut to his extremities. He detached from Gannethil, wishing to stay close, but releasing him nonetheless. $advancepresent[“Not exactly the fantasy I envisioned,” the devil said, attending to his wound with a prim handkerchief. “But I don’t hate it. We can unpack that later.” “Thank you,” Lysander said dreamily, his vision sharper, the world brighter than it had been for weeks. $advancepresent[“Let’s get out of here before the sun rises, yeah?” “Yeah.” Gannethil wrapped his arms around Lysander. $advancepresent[In another flash of hellfire, they departed for darker hollows. $advancepresent[Together. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#8351a6")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8BAA. Gannethil]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="pastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="choicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Ascend. ⇒->7BBA. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="pastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="choicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Rue. ⇒->7BBB. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Footsteps, too, approached. “Thibault? Is that you?” Lysander asked, ceasing his anxious pacing. $advancepresent[“It is.” The now familiar angular face peered down from the rim of the pit. Thibault surveyed the vampire for a few more moments. $advancepresent[“I have a rope ladder,” he said, finally. “I tied it around a tree. Before I send it down, I have one more question.” Doubt prickled Lysander’s skin. Had the reality of allowing a self-admitted vampire come near him finally settled in? “What is it?” Lysander asked. $advancepresent[“You must control yourself.” Thibault’s firm voice hung over the pit. “Do you promise not to bite me, until or unless I give you permission?” “Yes,” Lysander said quickly. Thibault stared down at him, impassive. $advancepresent[“Yes,” Lysander said again. “I—I know it’s scary, to be around a vampire. And I—yes, I am hungry. But I wouldn’t do that. Hurt someone who was trying to help me. I promise.” “I see.” Thibault stepped away from the edge. Lysander waited another agonizing moment. Was this it? Had he at last said the thing that would scare him off? $advancepresent[Thibault returned, rope ladder cradled in his arms. “Thank you for your candor.” He dropped the bundle. It unfurled as it fell. As his benefactor stepped away from the pit once more, Lysander began his climb. The rope was rough against his fingers, and the ladder wobbled awkwardly, but a minute later, he’d crested the rim. $advancepresent[He was free. $advancepresent[Finally, finally free. $advancepresent[Lysander gave a choked sob of relief. Thibault stood a few yards away, still studying him. $advancepresent[“Thank you,” Lysander said, composing himself. “Thibault—I—I didn’t think anyone would really help me. Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” he replied. $advancepresent[There was an uncomfortable beat of silence. $advancepresent[“I guess, uh, I’ll be going, then?” Lysander asked. “The sun will be up soon.” “You could come with me,” Thibault said. “I have a safe place nearby. A shrine.” “A shrine?” Lysander asked. “But the only shrines around here are—wait. Are you—are you a—” $advancepresent[“A Disciple of Radiance Inviolate?” Thibault snorted. “Kind of. The same way that I’m kind of a Tennebrin. The dorries find me heretical. But I don’t see many of them actually tending to the shrines these days. A holy place should not play host to hatred.” “You’re a Tennebrin? But—” Lysander was confused. “I don’t understand. I trust you. You saved me. There isn’t much time, I—can you help me understand?” $advancepresent[Thibault sighed. “I have a blood curse. A few Tennebrins each generation receive this corruption. I was lucky to reach adulthood. My parents sent me away to the Disciples, hoping a course of spiritual enlightenment might cure me. I came to my own understanding—that the sun is honest. And beautiful. It rises. It sets. It never deviates from its path, dancing an infinite analemma. It *is* Radiance Inviolate. But it doesn’t care about vampires or fiends or devils or even its own disciples. And it certainly doesn’t care about me.” $advancepresent[What could Lysander possibly say to that? $advancepresent[Thibault’s expression softened. “I prioritize my own safety. That’s why I asked all those questions. But, Lysander, you were honest. You mean well. If you want to rest safely in a shrine to the sun, you should be able to do that. You wouldn’t be the first vampire I’ve harbored.” $advancepresent[It was a lot for Lysander to process. $advancepresent[But he made his choice. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Accept. ⇒->7BBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Decline. ⇒->7BBAB. Decline]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Footsteps, too, approached. He looked up. “Hello? Are you back? To—to help me? Or—kill me?” The footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed. $advancepresent[A man draped in sickly yellow robes appeared overhead. Lysander’s stomach dropped, gut ceasing its moans for blood long enough to curdle. It was unmistakable; the garb befitting a Disciple of Radiance Inviolate. $advancepresent[“Dead flesh ought not speak out of turn.” The dorrie’s voice carried across the hollow. $advancepresent[Lysander squinted up at his face. Those features were familiar. Straw-colored hair. Thin lips. Hateful, loathsome eyes. He knew that face. “It’s *you*,” Lysander said. “With the crossbow. You shot me! You left me—you left me to die!” $advancepresent[The Disciple peered over, and—recognizing Lysander—gave a sudden peal of laughter, bright like brass bells. “So I did.” “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Lysander demanded. “For your—your crimes?! You just—what, go to weddings and murder whoever it is you don’t like? Build death traps for vampires?” His killer gazed down from above. “Dawn is imminent. Can’t you feel it—the rising of the light? Won’t it be a beautiful morning?” $advancepresent[Lysander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I did *nothing* to you. I don’t even *know* you. You ruined my life. You ruined everything. Why?” “Things that rot should be discarded.” $advancepresent[Birds chirped in the distance. $advancepresent[“So what, you’re here to watch?” Lysander asked. “Smite what you fear, and get off on it, too?” “The sun will judge us both,” the dorrie proclaimed. “And which of us, pray tell, will be found lacking? Radiance Inviolate’s most loyal disciple? Or grave dust that deludes itself a person?” $advancepresent[Lysander’s rage and panic built in tandem. $advancepresent[No—this couldn’t happen. $advancepresent[Not again. Not ever, ever again. $advancepresent[He had to stop it. $advancepresent[He had to do something. $advancepresent[Anything. $advancepresent[What could he do? $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BBBB. Unleash]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](text-color:"#fff3c3")+(text-size: 2)[RADIANCE INVIOLATE] (text-color:"#ffe98e")+(text-size: 0.8)[— Content Notes —] <div class="presentpsg">If you would like more details about the content of this story prior to reading, you may click each topic to reveal more information. Please be advised that, as is their nature, such notes may spoil plot points. <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Blood. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Blood.**] This is a story about vampires, who long to bite people and/or animals in order to drink their blood. As such, blood appears several times throughout all versions of the narrative.] </div> <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Confinement. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Confinement.**] This story depicts a central character who is trapped in, and desperate to escape from, a pit.] </div> <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Death. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Death.**] Major and minor characters can and will die, with variability depending on choices made by the reader.] </div> <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Endings. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Endings.**] There are multiple possible endings. Misery is possible. Likely, even. But it is not inevitable.] </div> <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Hunger. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Hunger.**] This story depicts a vampire who does not have stable access to required nutrition, which in this case is blood.] </div> <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Hunting. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Hunting.**] This text mentions humans hunting animals, humans hunting vampires, and vampires hunting both humans and animals. Most relevantly, this includes the depiction of an illusory dead deer, whose counterfeit death is not portrayed directly.] </div> <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Sensuality. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Sensuality.**] While there are no sex scenes in this text, there are depictions of characters consensually kissing (and/or biting) as a prelude to what might have become a sexual encounter if circumstances had allowed.] </div> <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Supernatural persecution. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Supernatural persecution.**] A significant subset of the society depicted in this text does not believe that sentient supernatural creatures like vampires should be allowed to exist. They act violently upon these beliefs.] </div> <div class="choicepresentpsg">(link:"Violence. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Violence.**] There is a significant amount of violence in this text, both implied and directly depicted.] </div></div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander had worn his voice hoarse shouting for help, but no one had answered his calls. Certainly not Gannethil. Was this all that remained? Facing the dawn exhausted and alone? $advancepresent[Lysander heard footsteps echo through the still air. He looked up. “Hello? Is someone there?” The footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed. $advancepresent[A man draped in sickly yellow robes appeared overhead. Lysander’s stomach dropped, gut ceasing its moans for blood long enough to curdle. It was unmistakable; the garb befitting a Disciple of Radiance Inviolate. $advancepresent[“Dead flesh ought not speak out of turn.” The dorrie’s voice carried across the hollow. $advancepresent[Lysander squinted up at his face. Those features were familiar. Straw-colored hair. Thin lips. Hateful, loathsome eyes. He knew that face. “It’s *you*,” Lysander said. “With the crossbow. You shot me! You left me—you left me to die!” $advancepresent[The Disciple peered over, and—recognizing Lysander—gave a sudden peal of laughter, bright like brass bells. “So I did.” “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Lysander demanded. “For your—your crimes?! You just—what, go to weddings and murder whoever it is you don’t like? Build death traps for vampires?” His killer gazed down from above. “Dawn is imminent. Can’t you feel it—the rising of the light? Won’t it be a beautiful morning?” $advancepresent[Lysander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I did *nothing* to you. I don’t even *know* you. You ruined my life. You ruined everything. Why?” “Things that rot should be discarded.” $advancepresent[Birds chirped in the distance. $advancepresent[“So what, you’re here to watch?” Lysander asked. “Smite what you fear, and get off on it, too?” “The sun will judge us both,” the dorrie proclaimed. “And which of us, pray tell, will be found lacking? Radiance Inviolate’s most loyal disciple? Or grave dust that deludes itself a person?” $advancepresent[Lysander’s rage and panic built in tandem. $advancepresent[No—this couldn’t happen. $advancepresent[Not again. Not ever, ever again. $advancepresent[He had to stop it. $advancepresent[He had to do something. $advancepresent[Anything. $advancepresent[What could he do? $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persuade. ⇒->7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Unleash. ⇒->7ABBB. Unleash]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander had attacked the seam mercilessly with the wrapped stake. He’d scraped and scraped, producing a modest pile of crumbling dried mud. But despite his efforts—despite giving more to the task than he could spare to give—all he’d accomplished was digging a trench a few inches deep. $advancepresent[If that. $advancepresent[He could climb in, try to lie still beneath the slightest overhang, but it wasn’t going to work. There wasn’t even enough loose dirt to bury himself. $advancepresent[Lysander heard footsteps echo through the still air. $advancepresent[It couldn’t be Gannethil—could it? Dare he dream of diabolus ex machina? $advancepresent[He looked up. “Hello? Is someone there?” $advancepresent[The footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed. $advancepresent[A man draped in sickly yellow robes appeared overhead. Lysander’s stomach dropped, gut ceasing its moans for blood long enough to curdle. It was unmistakable; the garb befitting a Disciple of Radiance Inviolate. $advancepresent[“Dead flesh ought not speak out of turn.” The dorrie’s voice carried across the hollow. $advancepresent[Lysander squinted up at his face. Those features were familiar. Straw-colored hair. Thin lips. Hateful, loathsome eyes. He knew that face. “It’s *you*,” Lysander said. “With the crossbow. You shot me! You left me—you left me to die!” $advancepresent[The Disciple peered over, and—recognizing Lysander—gave a sudden peal of laughter, bright like brass bells. “So I did.” “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Lysander demanded. “For your—your crimes?! You just—what, go to weddings and murder whoever it is you don’t like? Build death traps for vampires?” His killer gazed down from above. “Dawn is imminent. Can’t you feel it—the rising of the light? Won’t it be a beautiful morning?” $advancepresent[Lysander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I did *nothing* to you. I don’t even *know* you. You ruined my life. You ruined everything. Why?” “Things that rot should be discarded.” $advancepresent[Birds chirped in the distance. $advancepresent[“So what, you’re here to watch?” Lysander asked. “Smite what you fear, and get off on it, too?” “The sun will judge us both,” the dorrie proclaimed. “And which of us, pray tell, will be found lacking? Radiance Inviolate’s most loyal disciple? Or grave dust that deludes itself a person?” $advancepresent[Lysander’s rage and panic built in tandem. $advancepresent[No—this couldn’t happen. $advancepresent[Not again. Not ever, ever again. $advancepresent[He had to stop it. $advancepresent[He had to do something. $advancepresent[Anything. $advancepresent[What could he do? $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BABB. Unleash]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">Lysander rolled over, nauseous, his vision still streaking. $advancepresent[Wounds filigreed his fingers. He pulled himself into a sitting position against the wall, wincing as his hands sparked and sizzled. The sky had grown noticeably lighter, silver fading to blue. Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander heard footsteps echo through the still air. He looked up. “Hello? Is someone there?” The footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed. $advancepresent[A man draped in sickly yellow robes appeared overhead. Lysander’s stomach dropped, gut ceasing its moans for blood long enough to curdle. It was unmistakable; the garb befitting a Disciple of Radiance Inviolate. $advancepresent[“Dead flesh ought not speak out of turn.” The dorrie’s voice carried across the hollow. $advancepresent[Lysander squinted up at his face. Those features were familiar. Straw-colored hair. Thin lips. Hateful, loathsome eyes. He knew that face. “It’s *you*,” Lysander said. “With the crossbow. You shot me! You left me—you left me to die!” $advancepresent[The Disciple peered over, and—recognizing Lysander—gave a sudden peal of laughter, bright like brass bells. “So I did.” “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Lysander demanded. “For your—your crimes?! You just—what, go to weddings and murder whoever it is you don’t like? Build death traps for vampires?” His killer gazed down from above. “Dawn is imminent. Can’t you feel it—the rising of the light? Won’t it be a beautiful morning?” $advancepresent[Lysander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I did *nothing* to you. I don’t even *know* you. You ruined my life. You ruined everything. Why?” “Things that rot should be discarded.” $advancepresent[Birds chirped in the distance. $advancepresent[“So what, you’re here to watch?” Lysander asked. “Smite what you fear, and get off on it, too?” “The sun will judge us both,” the dorrie proclaimed. “And which of us, pray tell, will be found lacking? Radiance Inviolate’s most loyal disciple? Or grave dust that deludes itself a person?” $advancepresent[Lysander’s rage and panic built in tandem. $advancepresent[No—this couldn’t happen. $advancepresent[Not again. Not ever, ever again. $advancepresent[He had to stop it. $advancepresent[He had to do something. $advancepresent[Anything. $advancepresent[What could he do? $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persuade. ⇒->7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Unleash. ⇒->7AAB. Unleash]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[V.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Witching Hour | Vintopol Outskirts.] <div class="presentpsg">Everything Lysander needed to escape had been there from the start. $advancepresent[He tore strip after strip from his coat, putting as much fabric as possible between heartwood and undead flesh. He pried each stake from its housing, discarding the brittle and sparing the sturdy. With a loose stone he bashed them, one after another after another, driving each stake through dry caked mud and silver mesh to tender clay beyond. Each swing burnt the dregs of his energy, but he hadn’t stopped. Without a glance back, he climbed, step after step, and at last, clambered over the edge of the pit onto sweet earth above. $advancepresent[Lysander lay there for a moment, hair pulled loose from his ribbon, gazing at the stars. $advancepresent[Relief. $advancepresent[Triumph. $advancepresent[Hunger… $advancepresent[He coaxed himself to his feet. There couldn’t be another night like this. Not ever. He had to feed on something. Something real this time. Lysander released the sky from his stare, and found himself face to face with an unfamiliar man. He recoiled, putting more distance between them. $advancepresent[The newcomer stood his ground. “You got out.” His eyes shone jewel-bright beneath overgrown brows. “Was it you?” Lysander demanded, suddenly angry. “You made this death trap?” “No,” the man said, voice firm and cold. He stood his ground, but tensed for a fight. $advancepresent[“Don’t lie!” Lysander paced to and fro, claws digging into the palms of his hands. “Just out for a stroll, are you? At the witching hour? By the vampire murder pit?!” “I don’t lie,” the man spat. “It’s not my work.” “It was *your* blood in there! I can smell it, even from here.” He wondered how the scent had ever confused him so—of course it had been human. “That’s not all you reek of—you’re a Tennebrin, aren’t you?” The other man’s eyes widened. He gave a short, startled laugh. $advancepresent[“Don’t—don’t *laugh*!” Lysander’s rage crested as the proximity of blood flooded his senses. Oh, he would feed after all. He would! “Vampire!” His foe shouted, his voice a harsh bark. “Control yourself!” $advancepresent[The vampire swayed, febrile in his thirst. Warmth poured off this man, this... vile hoarder of heat, who stank of blood, so rank and sweet. $advancepresent[That angular face bore into him. “Remember yourself!” What a cruel man. To be so rich of vigor, yet deny him the most meager of sustenance? Not even a drop? Cold hands trembled under the strain of injustice. “Remember your name!” $advancepresent[Lysander. $advancepresent[The fever broke, waves of hunger now ebbed, losing their desperate heat. A sinking, cold wind moaned in the pit of his gut. He clutched his face. “Good.” The man kept his distance. “Good. Your name?” “Lysander,” the vampire said. “Thibault,” he replied. $advancepresent[The taut air between them slackened. Lysander wasn’t calm, exactly, but he’d wrested back most of his faculties from the clutches of bloodthirst. “You’re a Tennebrin?” Lysander asked, finally, still needing an answer. “I was,” Thibault didn’t laugh this time. “No longer.” He paused. “Though, does anyone truly *stop* being a Tennebrin?” “I don’t understand.” “You are Lysander—the one Serge killed at the Marquise’s wedding?” Thibault asked. “You’re that Lysander, no?” $advancepresent[“Serge?” The chaotic memories of his death swirled about him. $advancepresent[“Yes, it must be you. That’s the one you owe vengeance,” Thibault said. “Serge Tennebrin. He built this pit.” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Spiral. ⇒->6CA. Past]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="pastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="choicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Deliberate. ⇒->7CA. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Vintopol Outskirts.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">“Serge,” Lysander said, his darkest memories seething at the edges of his mind. “Serge Tennebrin.” $advancepresent[Thibault watched him pace. “That’s the one.” “Why did he do it?” he asked. “Why did he kill me?” “He had it out for René. Didn’t like his philandering. Serge cares a lot about the bloodline. Bleak stuff.” $advancepresent[“What, so he just—he just murders anyone that man is sweet on?” Lysander ran his fingers through his hair. “What a nightmare.” “You weren’t the only one,” Thibault said. “Though only you came back.” “And now he’s a dorrie?” “The worst I know.” $advancepresent[A soft wind filtered through the clearing. Lysander heard the mirrors clinking in the distance. $advancepresent[“You knew about this pit,” Lysander said. “This whole time, you knew about this death trap.” “Yes.” “And you did nothing about it? Nothing to stop him from killing vampires, night after night after night?” $advancepresent[“That’s not fair.” Thibault folded his arms. “These are dangerous times. I have to put my own safety first. I check the pit when I can. Help the ones who can be helped. Leave the rest. That’s how my blood got in there.” “It should be dismantled,” Lysander said. “I don’t care whether you think some of us can’t be helped. It shouldn’t be up to you. That man killed me. He almost killed me again. And he’s killed so many others. He should face justice for what he’s done.” Thibault was quiet for a while, considering the vampire’s words. $advancepresent[Finally, he spoke. “If you want to kill him—if that’s your justice, your vengeance, your closure—I won’t stop you. Serge is awful. He is the worst person I’ve ever met, and horrible people are legion.” He sighed. “Even so, he is still my cousin. I won’t mourn him. But, I don’t want to be there for it. I’ll check back another night, if you’re still around.” “What’s the alternative?” Lysander asked. “If I don’t care about vengeance, what else is there?” “Come with me,” Thibault said. “I have a safe place nearby. There’s always tomorrow night.” $advancepresent[The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[“He’ll be here soon,” Thibault said. “He always checks near dawn. He likes to watch.” “Of course he does,” Lysander muttered. It would be a narrow window of opportunity, but vengeance was his for the taking. He only had to reach for it. $advancepresent[Was that truly what he wanted? $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Take vengeance. ⇒->7CAA. Vengeance]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Leave it behind. ⇒->7CAB. Leave]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to climb. Again. How stubborn. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7AAB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to climb. Again. How stubborn. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7AAB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to climb. Again. How stubborn. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7AAB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to climb. Again. How stubborn. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7AAB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7ABBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7ABBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7ABBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7ABBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#a67dd1)[Diabolus ex Machina] Lysander escaped dawn in the arms of radiance in violet.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to accept Gannethil’s card. How romantic. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BABB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BABB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BABB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BABB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#e25c00)[A Meal of Last Resort] Lysander escaped dawn with an improbable ally and a full belly.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to admit the truth that he was a vampire. How courageous. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->7BBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->7BBAB. Decline]]] </div> You chose for him to accept the help he was offered. How gracious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#432cf5)[Thirteenth Night] Lysander survived dawn, cold and alone.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to admit the truth that he was a vampire. How courageous. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->7BBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->7BBAB. Decline]]] </div> You chose for him to decline the help he was offered. How melancholy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7BBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ad1200)[Vengeance, Bitter Vengeance] Lysander and Serge faced dawn and perished together.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to enact a well-considered plan. How judicious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Take vengeance. ⇒->7CAA. Vengeance]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Leave it behind. ⇒->7CAB. Leave]]] </div> You chose for him to seek revenge. How brutal. After that, Lysander faced a climactic decision: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Bite. ⇒->7CAAA. Bite]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Shove. ⇒->7CAAB. Shove]]] </div> You chose for him to drink every last drop. How bloody. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#c62d5b)[Vengeance, Sweet Vengeance] Lysander took bloody revenge and fled dawn with a full belly.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to enact a well-considered plan. How judicious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Take vengeance. ⇒->7CAA. Vengeance]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Leave it behind. ⇒->7CAB. Leave]]] </div> You chose for him to seek revenge. How brutal. After that, Lysander faced a climactic decision: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Bite. ⇒->7CAAA. Bite]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Shove. ⇒->7CAAB. Shove]]] </div> You chose for him to doom his mortal foe to die alone. How poetic. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#e25c00)[A Meal of Last Resort] Lysander escaped dawn with an improbable ally and a full belly.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to enact a well-considered plan. How judicious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Take vengeance. ⇒->7CAA. Vengeance]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Leave it behind. ⇒->7CAB. Leave]]] </div> You chose for him to abandon his dreams of retribution. How optimistic. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#e25c00)[A Meal of Last Resort] Lysander escaped dawn with an improbable ally and a full belly.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to admit the truth that he was a vampire. How courageous. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->7CBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->7CBAB. Decline]]] </div> You chose for him to accept the help he was offered. How gracious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7CBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7CBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#432cf5)[Thirteenth Night] Lysander survived dawn, cold and alone.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to admit the truth that he was a vampire. How courageous. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->7CBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->7CBAB. Decline]]] </div> You chose for him to decline the help he was offered. How melancholy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7CBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="endpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="endpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="choiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->7CBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](text-color:"#fff3c3")+(text-size: 2)[RADIANCE INVIOLATE] (text-color:"#ffe98e")+(text-size: 0.8)[— Acknowledgments —] <div class="presentpsg">I, DemonApologist, a real person fondly attached to a diabolical pseudonym, wrote and programmed this interactive novelette during the period January 14th, 2025 to March 30th, 2025. This project was built in Twine 2.9.2 using the story format Harlowe 3.3.9 by Leon Arnott. The cover art—which I also made—was drafted using charcoal on paper. I then scanned and digitally colorized it. I would like to especially thank and acknowledge: Tabitha for moral support and CSS templates; fen and vane for moral support and UI suggestions; the 2025 Queer Vampire Game Jam on itch.io for originally motivating this work; and finally, the accursed sun, for being the ultimate source of cosmic horror. </div></div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="pastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="choicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Ascend. ⇒->7CBA. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Footsteps, too, approached. “Thibault? Is that you?” Lysander asked, ceasing his anxious pacing. “It is.” The now familiar angular face peered down from the rim of the pit. Thibault surveyed the vampire for a few more moments. $advancepresent[“I have a rope ladder,” he said, finally. “I tied it around a tree. Before I send it down, I have one more question.” Doubt prickled Lysander’s skin. Had the reality of allowing a self-admitted vampire come near him finally settled in? “What is it?” Lysander asked. $advancepresent[“You must control yourself.” Thibault’s firm voice hung over the pit. “Do you promise not to bite me, until or unless I give you permission?” “Yes,” Lysander said quickly. Thibault stared down at him, impassive. $advancepresent[“Yes,” Lysander said again. “I—I know it’s scary, to be around a vampire. And I—yes, I am hungry. But I wouldn’t do that. Hurt someone who was trying to help me. I promise.” “I see.” Thibault stepped away from the edge. $advancepresent[Lysander waited another agonizing moment. Was this it? Had he at last said the thing that would scare him off? $advancepresent[Thibault returned, rope ladder cradled in his arms. “Thank you for your candor.” He dropped the bundle. It unfurled as it fell. As his benefactor stepped away from the pit once more, Lysander began his climb. The rope was rough against his fingers, and the ladder wobbled awkwardly, but a minute later, he’d crested the rim. He was free. $advancepresent[Finally, finally free. $advancepresent[Lysander gave a choked sob of relief. Thibault stood a few yards away, still studying him. $advancepresent[“Thank you,” Lysander said, composing himself. “Thibault—I—I didn’t think anyone would really help me. Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” he replied. $advancepresent[There was an uncomfortable beat of silence. $advancepresent[“I guess, uh, I’ll be going, then?” Lysander asked. “The sun will be up soon.” “You could come with me,” Thibault said. “I have a safe place nearby. A shrine.” “A shrine?” Lysander asked. “But the only shrines around here are—wait. Are you—are you a—” $advancepresent[“A Disciple of Radiance Inviolate?” Thibault snorted. “Kind of. The same way that I’m kind of a Tennebrin. The dorries find me heretical. But I don’t see many of them actually tending to the shrines these days. A holy place should not play host to hatred.” “You’re a Tennebrin? But—” Lysander was confused. “I don’t understand. I trust you. You saved me. There isn’t much time, I—can you help me understand?” $advancepresent[Thibault sighed. “I have a blood curse. A few Tennebrins each generation receive this corruption. I was lucky to reach adulthood. My parents sent me away to the Disciples, hoping a course of spiritual enlightenment might cure me. I came to my own understanding—that the sun is honest. And beautiful. It rises. It sets. It never deviates from its path, dancing an infinite analemma. It *is* Radiance Inviolate. But it doesn’t care about vampires or fiends or devils or even its own disciples. And it certainly doesn’t care about me.” $advancepresent[What could Lysander possibly say to that? $advancepresent[Thibault’s expression softened. “I prioritize my own safety. That’s why I asked all those questions. But, Lysander, you were honest. You mean well. If you want to rest safely in a shrine to the sun, you should be able to do that. You wouldn’t be the first vampire I’ve harbored.” $advancepresent[It was a lot for Lysander to process. $advancepresent[But he made his choice. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Accept. ⇒->7CBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Decline. ⇒->7CBAB. Decline]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="pastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="choicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Scramble. ⇒->7CBB. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Everything Lysander needed to escape had been there from the start. But now— $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[He tore strip after strip from his coat, putting as much fabric as possible between heartwood and undead flesh. He pried each stake from its housing, discarding the brittle and sparing the sturdy. But it was too slow. He’d wasted precious time begging for help. It was true that Lysander had lied. Why did some random man get to decide that made him unworthy of existence? Couldn’t he understand why a terrified person might lie in such a desperate situation? $advancepresent[Footsteps echoed through the still air. He looked up. “Hello? Are you—are you back to help me?” It couldn’t be. Dare he hope that the man had changed his mind? The footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed. $advancepresent[A man draped in sickly yellow robes appeared overhead. Lysander’s stomach dropped, gut ceasing its moans for blood long enough to curdle. It was unmistakable; the garb befitting a Disciple of Radiance Inviolate. $advancepresent[“Dead flesh ought not speak out of turn.” The dorrie’s voice carried across the hollow. $advancepresent[Lysander squinted up at his face. Those features were familiar. Straw-colored hair. Thin lips. Hateful, loathsome eyes. He knew that face. “It’s *you*,” Lysander said. “With the crossbow. You shot me! You left me—you left me to die!” $advancepresent[The Disciple peered over, and—recognizing Lysander—gave a sudden peal of laughter, bright like brass bells. “So I did.” “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Lysander demanded. “For your—your crimes?! You just—what, go to weddings and murder whoever it is you don’t like? Build death traps for vampires?” His killer gazed down from above. “Dawn is imminent. Can’t you feel it—the rising of the light? Won’t it be a beautiful morning?” $advancepresent[Lysander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I did *nothing* to you. I don’t even *know* you. You ruined my life. You ruined everything. Why?” “Things that rot should be discarded.” $advancepresent[Birds chirped in the distance. $advancepresent[“So what, you’re here to watch?” Lysander asked. “Smite what you fear, and get off on it, too?” “The sun will judge us both,” the dorrie proclaimed. “And which of us, pray tell, will be found lacking? Radiance Inviolate’s most loyal disciple? Or grave dust that deludes itself a person?” $advancepresent[Lysander’s rage and panic built in tandem. $advancepresent[No—this couldn’t happen. $advancepresent[Not again. Not ever, ever again. $advancepresent[He had to stop it. $advancepresent[He had to do something. $advancepresent[Anything. $advancepresent[What could he do? $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persuade. ⇒->7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Unleash. ⇒->7CBBB. Unleash]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">“Listen,” Lysander said, finally. “I’m not a bad person. I—I never sought vengeance against you for killing me. I just—wanted to live my life.” $advancepresent[“You *did* live your life,” said the Disciple. “It ended. Accept that.” $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[His mind raced, searching for any angle he could think of. “The deer! That illusion. You created it, didn’t you? A doe, abandoned to die. It was so—it looked so real. That was powerful magic—the details you thought to include—” $advancepresent[“Deer?” The dorrie surveyed him, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “That spell shows what you want to see. You saw a dead doe?” He laughed. “You really *are* twisted! A dead deer. You wanted your grisly feast, your bacchanal of blood and filth, without the moral contamination of acquiring it. Pathetic. You are nothing *but* contamination; nothing at all.” $advancepresent[“You’ll be next!” Lysander shouted desperately. “You think this stops at vampires and fiends? The cursed? The questioned? When the others turn their fire on your sorcery—you’ll burn too!” $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8AAAB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8AAAA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">Lysander snapped. $advancepresent[This man could not be reasoned with. And how could he be? How could anyone reason with radiance inviolate? $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[The vampire pulled himself to his feet, his entire body aching; bones shrieking, hands shaking, fangs baying. $advancepresent[“You are dead,” the Disciple proclaimed. “Your life ended. Accept that!” $advancepresent[Lysander glanced about, mind racing, looking for anything he could use. $advancepresent[A stake? $advancepresent[He ripped it from the ground, pulled back, and threw it with all the deadly malice he could muster, splinters slivering his silver-singed fingers. $advancepresent[It arced—gracefully at first, then less so—and bounced harmlessly off the walls of the pit, well beneath its target. $advancepresent[“Look at that!” the dorrie exclaimed, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “The dust is fighting the wind. What a show!” $advancepresent[His killer was laughing. $advancepresent[Lysander saw a loose stone. $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the stone. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” the Disciple shouted. $advancepresent[Lysander threw the stone. $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[Was it true? $advancepresent[The arc of the stone—was it true? $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8AABB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8AABA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">“Listen,” Lysander said, finally. “I’m not a bad person. I—I never sought vengeance against you for killing me. I just—wanted to live my life.” $advancepresent[“You *did* live your life,” said the Disciple. “It ended. Accept that.” $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[His mind raced, searching for any angle he could think of. “The deer! That illusion. You created it, didn’t you? A doe, abandoned to die. It was so—it looked so real. That was powerful magic—the details you thought to include—” $advancepresent[“Deer?” The dorrie surveyed him, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “That spell shows what you want to see. You saw a dead doe?” He laughed. “You really *are* twisted! A dead deer. You wanted your grisly feast, your bacchanal of blood and filth, without the moral contamination of acquiring it. Pathetic. You are nothing *but* contamination; nothing at all.” $advancepresent[“You’ll be next!” Lysander shouted desperately. “You think this stops at vampires and lavender devils? The cursed? The questioned? When the others turn their fire on your sorcery—you’ll burn too!” $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8ABBAB. Radiance]]] </div></div>]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8ABBAA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">Lysander snapped. $advancepresent[This man could not be reasoned with. And how could he be? How could anyone reason with radiance inviolate? $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[The vampire pulled himself to his feet, his entire body aching; bones shrieking, hands shaking, fangs baying. $advancepresent[“You are dead,” the Disciple proclaimed. “Your life ended. Accept that!” $advancepresent[Lysander glanced about, mind racing, looking for anything he could use. $advancepresent[A stake? $advancepresent[He ripped it from the ground, pulled back, and threw it with all the deadly malice he could muster, splinters slivering his fingers. $advancepresent[It arced—gracefully at first, then less so—and bounced harmlessly off the walls of the pit, well beneath its target. $advancepresent[“Look at that!” the dorrie exclaimed, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “The dust is fighting the wind. What a show!” $advancepresent[His killer was laughing. $advancepresent[Lysander saw a loose stone. $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the stone. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” the Disciple shouted. $advancepresent[Lysander threw the stone. $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[Was it true? $advancepresent[The arc of the stone—was it true? $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8ABBBB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8ABBBA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">“Listen,” Lysander said, finally. “I’m not a bad person. I—I never sought vengeance against you for killing me. I just—wanted to live my life.” $advancepresent[“You *did* live your life,” said the Disciple. “It ended. Accept that.” $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[His mind raced, searching for any angle he could think of. “The deer! That illusion. You created it, didn’t you? A doe, abandoned to die. It was so—it looked so real. That was powerful magic—the details you thought to include—” $advancepresent[“Deer?” The dorrie surveyed him, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “That spell shows what you want to see. You saw a dead doe?” He laughed. “You really *are* twisted! A dead deer. You wanted your grisly feast, your bacchanal of blood and filth, without the moral contamination of acquiring it. Pathetic. You are nothing *but* contamination; nothing at all.” $advancepresent[“You’ll be next!” Lysander shouted desperately. “You think this stops at vampires and lavender devils? The cursed? The questioned? When the others turn their fire on your sorcery—you’ll burn too!” $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8BABAB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8BABAA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">Lysander snapped. $advancepresent[This man could not be reasoned with. And how could he be? How could anyone reason with radiance inviolate? $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[The vampire pulled himself to his feet, his entire body aching; bones shrieking, hands shaking, fangs baying. $advancepresent[“You are dead,” the Disciple proclaimed. “Your life ended. Accept that!” $advancepresent[Lysander glanced about, mind racing, looking for anything he could use. $advancepresent[A stake? $advancepresent[He ripped it from the ground, pulled back, and threw it with all the deadly malice he could muster, splinters slivering his fingers. $advancepresent[It arced—gracefully at first, then less so—and bounced harmlessly off the walls of the pit, well beneath its target. $advancepresent[“Look at that!” the dorrie exclaimed, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “The dust is fighting the wind. What a show!” $advancepresent[His killer was laughing. $advancepresent[Lysander saw a loose stone. $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the stone. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” the Disciple shouted. $advancepresent[Lysander threw the stone. $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[Was it true? $advancepresent[The arc of the stone—was it true? $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8BABBB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8BABBA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">“Listen,” Lysander said, finally. “I’m not a bad person. I—I never sought vengeance against you for killing me. I just—wanted to live my life.” $advancepresent[“You *did* live your life,” said the Disciple. “It ended. Accept that.” $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[His mind raced, searching for any angle he could think of. “The deer! That illusion. You created it, didn’t you? A doe, abandoned to die. It was so—it looked so real. That was powerful magic—the details you thought to include—” $advancepresent[“Deer?” The dorrie surveyed him, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “That spell shows what you want to see. You saw a dead doe?” He laughed. “You really *are* twisted! A dead deer. You wanted your grisly feast, your bacchanal of blood and filth, without the moral contamination of acquiring it. Pathetic. You are nothing *but* contamination; nothing at all.” $advancepresent[“You’ll be next!” Lysander shouted desperately. “You think this stops at vampires and fiends? The cursed? The questioned? When the others turn their fire on your sorcery—you’ll burn too!” $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8BBBAB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8BBBAA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">Lysander snapped. $advancepresent[This man could not be reasoned with. And how could he be? How could anyone reason with radiance inviolate? $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[The vampire pulled himself to his feet, his entire body aching; bones shrieking, hands shaking, fangs baying. $advancepresent[“You are dead,” the Disciple proclaimed. “Your life ended. Accept that!” $advancepresent[Lysander glanced about, mind racing, looking for anything he could use. $advancepresent[A stake? $advancepresent[He ripped it from the ground, pulled back, and threw it with all the deadly malice he could muster, splinters slivering his fingers. $advancepresent[It arced—gracefully at first, then less so—and bounced harmlessly off the walls of the pit, well beneath its target. $advancepresent[“Look at that!” the dorrie exclaimed, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “The dust is fighting the wind. What a show!” $advancepresent[His killer was laughing. $advancepresent[Lysander saw a loose stone. $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the stone. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” the Disciple shouted. $advancepresent[Lysander threw the stone. $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[Was it true? $advancepresent[The arc of the stone—was it true? $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8BBBBB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8BBBBA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">“Listen,” Lysander said, finally. “I’m not a bad person. I—I never sought vengeance against you for killing me. I just—wanted to live my life.” $advancepresent[“You *did* live your life,” said the Disciple. “It ended. Accept that.” $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[His mind raced, searching for any angle he could think of. “The deer! That illusion. You created it, didn’t you? A doe, abandoned to die. It was so—it looked so real. That was powerful magic—the details you thought to include—” $advancepresent[“Deer?” The dorrie surveyed him, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “That spell shows what you want to see. You saw a dead doe?” He laughed. “You really *are* twisted! A dead deer. You wanted your grisly feast, your bacchanal of blood and filth, without the moral contamination of acquiring it. Pathetic. You are nothing *but* contamination; nothing at all.” $advancepresent[“You’ll be next!” Lysander shouted desperately. “You think this stops at vampires and fiends? The cursed? The questioned? When the others turn their fire on your sorcery—you’ll burn too!” $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8CBBAB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8CBBAA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">Lysander snapped. $advancepresent[This man could not be reasoned with. And how could he be? How could anyone reason with radiance inviolate? $advancepresent[Birdsong echoed over the clearing, its vibrant melodies jarring against Lysander’s reckless determination to survive. $advancepresent[The vampire pulled himself to his feet, his entire body aching; bones shrieking, hands shaking, fangs baying. $advancepresent[“You are dead,” the Disciple proclaimed. “Your life ended. Accept that!” $advancepresent[Lysander glanced about, mind racing, looking for anything he could use. $advancepresent[A stake? $advancepresent[He ripped it from the ground, pulled back, and threw it with all the deadly malice he could muster, splinters slivering his fingers. $advancepresent[It arced—gracefully at first, then less so—and bounced harmlessly off the walls of the pit, well beneath its target. $advancepresent[“Look at that!” the dorrie exclaimed, robes shimmering in the light of almost-dawn. “The dust is fighting the wind. What a show!” $advancepresent[His killer was laughing. $advancepresent[Lysander saw a loose stone. $advancepresent[A distant bell clanged. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the stone. $advancepresent[“It’s here!” the Disciple shouted. $advancepresent[Lysander threw the stone. $advancepresent[The man stretched out his arms, robes billowing as he spun, golden in the light. $advancepresent[Was it true? $advancepresent[The arc of the stone—was it true? $advancepresent[“Beautiful! Beautiful—” $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8CBBBB. Radiance]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->8CBBBA. Abandonment]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Vintopol Outskirts.]</div> <div class="presentpsg">“I’ll go with you,” Lysander decided. “He’s not worth it. I still don’t yet know what it is that I want, but I know this much. I don’t want that.” $advancepresent[“I’m glad.” Thibault smiled. “So what is this place? Where are we going?” $advancepresent[“A shrine. It’s sparse, but it’s safe. You’ll be welcome.” “A shrine?” Lysander asked. “But the only shrines around here are—wait. Don’t tell me. Are you a *dorrie*?” $advancepresent[“Kind of.” Thibault looked amused. “The same way that I’m kind of a Tennebrin. The dorries find me heretical. But I don’t see many of them actually tending to the shrines these days. A holy place should not play host to hatred.” “So you’re basically a Tennebrin, basically a dorrie, and you—what, harbor stray vampires in a shrine to the sun?” He gave a sharp, strained kind of laugh. “Help me understand.” $advancepresent[Thibault sighed. “I have a blood curse. The curse Serge is so fixated on. A few Tennebrins each generation receive this corruption. How lucky. My parents sent me away to the Disciples, hoping a course of spiritual enlightenment might cure me. But I came to my own understanding; that the sun is honest. And beautiful. It rises. It sets. It never deviates from its path, dancing an infinite analemma. It *is* Radiance Inviolate.” He paused, searching for the right way to explain it. $advancepresent[“Look, you’re a vampire. From your perspective, the sun must seem like it really *does* hate you. But I don’t think so. I don’t think it cares about anything at all—vampires or devils or fiends or even its own disciples. And it certainly doesn’t care about me. So if I want to harbor stray vampires in a shrine to the sun, I’m not going to let any of that other nonsense stop me.” $advancepresent[What could Lysander even say to that? $advancepresent[Thibault’s expression softened. “Look. It’s not far, but time is short. You should bite me.” “Bite you?” Lysander asked, incredulous. “After all that you did to talk me down?” $advancepresent[“Yes. It’ll be fine. Because, well…” Thibault gave him a pained expression for a few moments. “I taste bad. Okay?” “You—you taste bad?” “To vampires. My blood tastes disgusting.” Lysander wanted to laugh. But Thibault looked genuinely embarrassed, so he held it back. $advancepresent[“The worst thing a vampire can do, that *only* a vampire can do, is lose themselves to bloodthirst,” Thibault said. “Take too much. Kill someone who doesn’t deserve it. Someone who was trying to be kind. But, I don’t have that problem because… I taste bad.” He peeled back his cloak, then unbuttoned the top of a gray undershirt. Lysander could see yellow-tinged bruises scattered across his chest and neck. Bite scars. $advancepresent[“They call me—” Thibault began, voice halting. “They call me a meal of last resort. My cursed blood, useful for once.” “You smell… fine,” Lysander said, a clumsy attempt at reassurance. “If you say so,” Thibault said. “Take a drink. This side.” He motioned to the left with his head. “Don’t drink too much. But… you won’t want to.” $advancepresent[Lysander approached, cautiously at first, then more confidently as Thibault nodded. He sank fangs into flesh, feeling the man tense first before relaxing. $advancepresent[Oh, to drink blood— $advancepresent[Sweet blood— $advancepresent[Blissful— $advancepresent[Bitterness puckered his lips as the blood’s swampy foulness mired his tongue. Metallic overtones ricocheted in Lysander’s gut, hot and harsh. He reeled, releasing Thibault as he stepped back. Thibault grimaced, dabbing the fresh wounds. “Told you.” “Thank you,” Lysander said, warm at last. “I really needed that. Thank you.” “Let’s get going,” Thibault said, indicating the direction. $advancepresent[The awful taste lingered, but Lysander smiled, following him into the forest beyond. $advancepresent[<div class="choicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->8CAB. Meal]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](text-color:"#fff3c3")+(text-size: 2)[RADIANCE INVIOLATE] (text-color:"#ffe98e")+(text-size: 0.8)[— An Interactive Novelette by DemonApologist —] <div class="lightendpsg">(link-style:(text-color:#6d0016)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#b90025")))[[Start. ⇒->L1. Present]] (link-style:(text-color:#6d0016)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#b90025")))[[Color schemes. ⇒->Color Schemes Light]] (link-style:(text-color:#6d0016)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#b90025")))[[Content notes. ⇒->Content Notes Light]] (link-style:(text-color:#6d0016)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#b90025")))[[Acknowledgments. ⇒->Acknowledgments Light]]</div>

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](text-color:"#fff3c3")+(text-size: 2)[RADIANCE INVIOLATE] (text-color:"#ffe98e")+(text-size: 0.8)[— Color Schemes —] <div class="endpsg">You are currently in Midnight Mode. It features light text on a dark reading space, with dark backgrounds. <div class="choiceendpsg">[[Remain in Midnight Mode. ⇒->Title Dark]] </div></div> <div class="lightendpsg">Alternatively, you could try Moonlight Mode. It features dark text on a light reading space, with dark backgrounds. <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">[[Switch to Moonlight Mode. ⇒->Title Light]] </div></div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Dark]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](text-color:"#fff3c3")+(text-size: 2)[RADIANCE INVIOLATE] (text-color:"#ffe98e")+(text-size: 0.8)[— Color Schemes —] <div class="lightendpsg">You are currently in Moonlight Mode. It features dark text on a light reading space, with dark backgrounds. <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">[[Remain in Moonlight Mode. ⇒->Title Light]] </div></div> <div class="endpsg">Alternatively, you could try Midnight Mode. It features light text on a dark reading space, with dark backgrounds. <div class="choiceendpsg">[[Switch to Midnight Mode. ⇒->Title Dark]] </div></div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](text-color:"#fff3c3")+(text-size: 2)[RADIANCE INVIOLATE] (text-color:"#ffe98e")+(text-size: 0.8)[— Content Notes —] <div class="lightpresentpsg">If you would like more details about the content of this story prior to reading, you may click each topic to reveal more information. Please be advised that, as is their nature, such notes may spoil plot points. <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Blood. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Blood.**] This is a story about vampires, who long to bite people and/or animals in order to drink their blood. As such, blood appears several times throughout all versions of the narrative.] </div> <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Confinement. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Confinement.**] This story depicts a central character who is trapped in, and desperate to escape from, a pit.] </div> <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Death. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Death.**] Major and minor characters can and will die, with variability depending on choices made by the reader.] </div> <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Endings. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Endings.**] There are multiple possible endings. Misery is possible. Likely, even. But it is not inevitable.] </div> <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Hunger. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Hunger.**] This story depicts a vampire who does not have stable access to required nutrition, which in this case is blood.] </div> <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Hunting. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Hunting.**] This text mentions humans hunting animals, humans hunting vampires, and vampires hunting both humans and animals. Most relevantly, this includes the depiction of an illusory dead deer, whose counterfeit death is not portrayed directly.] </div> <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Sensuality. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Sensuality.**] While there are no sex scenes in this text, there are depictions of characters consensually kissing (and/or biting) as a prelude to what might have become a sexual encounter if circumstances had allowed.] </div> <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Supernatural persecution. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Supernatural persecution.**] A significant subset of the society depicted in this text does not believe that sentient supernatural creatures like vampires should be allowed to exist. They act violently upon these beliefs.] </div> <div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(link:"Violence. ⇒")[(text-color:"#ba1b01")[**Violence.**] There is a significant amount of violence in this text, both implied and directly depicted.] </div></div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[I.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Moonrise | Vintopol Outskirts.] <div class="lightpresentpsg">Eleven nights. $advancepresent[It had been eleven excruciating nights since Lysander last fed. Not in the years since he first turned had he so longed to feel that fleeting warmth again. To drink deeply. To quicken his idle heart and bring color to stiff fingertips. To stave off the ravening for enough nights in a row that he might dream a plan less pathetic than cowering away from the dorries and their accursed sun. Camille—his maker—had left him a particular imprint; a drive to consume those already craving relief from suffering. Acts of mercy that fueled him, yes, but also brought him to face that force of nature which he himself refused and resented. $advancepresent[Death. $advancepresent[Despite Camille’s bittersweet gift, despite her hope that he might not resort to cruelty for the sake of survival, these were starving times. Lysander’s fangs yearned to shred any tender neck they encountered. And so, on this twelfth night, he was drawn out of hiding to search, again, for blood. $advancepresent[The moon, swollen the color of exposed embers, pulled free from the treetops, casting a sickly glow over the misty tendrils that yet reached to drag it back beneath the soil. Lysander dreaded these moonlit nights, not only for how their brightness imperiled his prowling, but for what else was brought, emboldened, into the forest and fields. More nights than not, the fever of vigilante smiting ravaged these hinterlands. Paladins and fiend-flayers and their growing hordes of frothing zealots punished ever more obscure sins. Their unquenched fires left an overwhelming stench, unlike the smoke of revelry from the time before he turned—bonfires to char the fruit of a successful hunt or tame onions to sweetness. $advancepresent[No longer. $advancepresent[Even so, the haze of such ruthless purification could not fully mask what Lysander sought. Just there, he caught it—the lingering perfume of something that had bled recently nearby. Was it a mirage brought about by desperate hunger? He pulled himself into the shaded embrace of an olive tree, its twisted boughs providing cover as he focused on the scent. He closed his eyes, searching for that faint melody singing among the cacophony of smells. $advancepresent[There it was again. $advancepresent[Not human, but unmistakable. Cloying. How could he have ever doubted it? Lysander ran his fingers through his dark, grimy hair, then tied it back with a stained ribbon. In competition with fear and hunger, his desire to feel clean again was a more distant need to be sated. At his most embraced, he worked as an affineur, attuning his supernatural sense of smell to divine the status of ripening cheese in exchange for safety from sunlight in the cellar, and regular access to blood. But, of those tenuous links between the vampire and mortal society, only ash and scorched stone remained. $advancepresent[He crept from tree to tree, keeping their dark shrouds gathered close when the climbing moon threatened to reveal him. The heady scent had only grown, sublime iron gathering at the back of his throat. At last, he saw it. $advancepresent[A doe, lying in a small clearing, the dirt around her still form damp and wine-dark with blood. Lysander barely restrained his impulse to leap upon the felled creature and drain it. He stilled his twitchy hands and listened for a heartbeat from a distance. $advancepresent[Nothing. The deer had already succumbed. $advancepresent[He listened further. If poachers were on their way to collect, he would expect to hear their boots snapping twigs, harsh laughter, or the yapping of eager hounds. $advancepresent[Nothing, again. Had he been less blood-stricken, perhaps he would’ve felt anger toward those who killed and abandoned this doe without purpose. Regret that he hadn’t arrived in time to ease her passing. But, in the face of these conditions, he couldn’t afford such moral clarity. $advancepresent[Nor could he afford patience. $advancepresent[He dashed into the open moonlight, aiming right for the dead doe’s neck, hoping beyond reason that it was still warm. $advancepresent[As he grasped, searching for purchase, the carcass dissipated into mist, the ground gave way, and he plunged, limbs swinging wildly, to depths unknown. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Die. ⇒->L2. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](text-color:"#fff3c3")+(text-size: 2)[RADIANCE INVIOLATE] (text-color:"#ffe98e")+(text-size: 0.8)[— Acknowledgments —] <div class="lightpresentpsg">I, DemonApologist, a real person fondly attached to a diabolical pseudonym, wrote and programmed this interactive novelette during the period January 14th, 2025 to March 30th, 2025. This project was built in Twine 2.9.2 using the story format Harlowe 3.3.9 by Leon Arnott. The cover art—which I also made—was drafted using charcoal on paper. I then scanned and digitally colorized it. I would like to especially thank and acknowledge: Tabitha for moral support and CSS templates; fen and vane for moral support and UI suggestions; the 2025 Queer Vampire Game Jam on itch.io for originally motivating this work; and finally, the accursed sun, for being the ultimate source of cosmic horror. </div></div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[III.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Midnight | Pitfall.] <div class="lightpresentpsg">Lysander stirred, lifting his head. $advancepresent[Something gritty that stank of ozone clung to the left side of his face, dusting his hair and cheek. Not even his eyelashes had been spared. He tried to wipe it out of his eyes, but found his movement constricted. He looked over blearily, trying to see what he was stuck on. Something had pinched his patchy coat near his armpit. $advancepresent[“What is that?” he muttered, thrashing in hopes of releasing himself. The fabric ripped, giving where his once-dextrous fingers had struggled to guide a needle for even stitches. He sat up, brushing off the worst of the sandy residue. $advancepresent[The source of his sartorial woe was a wooden spike protruding from the ground. Lysander shivered, recognizing his luck that it had speared only his flimsy jacket and nothing more. Several similar spikes jutted upwards from the ground where he had fallen, though they hadn’t been well maintained. Enough had toppled that he’d slid into a gap they’d left. $advancepresent[“The heartwood of trees abhors you,” he recited. “Let not its splinters pierce your flesh. But…” $advancepresent[At last, Lysander took in his moonlit surroundings. He was sitting at the bottom of a pitfall trap with sheer sides, at a depth of perhaps thirteen feet. The doe had been an illusion obscuring the pit. He still detected the faint hint of blood, no doubt scattered nearby to strengthen the subterfuge. The other smell, now, was overwhelming. He knelt to examine more critically the odd substance his face had landed in. It was unmistakable now; ashes from another vampire who had come into sight of that horrid, unblinking eye. $advancepresent[The sun. $advancepresent[Radiance inviolate. $advancepresent[Fingers trembling, he rested his hand on the ash pile, as though trying to comfort it. “What did they do to you?” he asked, voice hitching in his throat. He found two similar patches nearby. It was then that Lysander had a harrowing realization. He’d be joining them. $advancepresent[He clutched instinctively for his chest, where the crossbow bolt had torn once through him. Panic threatened to consume him. So too did shame. How could he have let such an obvious snare trick him like this? He thought he had been careful, but in the rush of finding blood, he hadn’t been as thorough. The Disciples of Radiance Inviolate had counted on that. $advancepresent[In light of their relentless campaign to bring all accursed beings to face the sun’s vengeful brilliance, his caution amounted to nothing. The dorries were many, mighty, and meticulous in their takeover. They’d made it harder and harder for him to cross back into the city, withering his connections with the meager few who still cared for him. They’d made targets of anyone lending protection or support or sustenance. Vigilante smiting had intensified his fear, making him afraid to seek blood. $advancepresent[And now, they’d capitalized on his desperate hunger with this humiliating trap. $advancepresent[After all that, he still had not even eaten. He was unsated, his hunger unabated, undead joints stiff and fangs aching. It was a monstrous fate—to feel so empty and cold, alone to burn in a slow but inevitable dawn. Discarded with the others, who had talked and thought and loved and dreamed—and yes, drank blood—until they were reduced to forgotten ash. Lysander clenched his hands into fists. He was hungry, cold, ashamed, and overwhelmed. But what little blood still lingered in his body scorched with another emotion so potent as to threaten the supremacy of the others. $advancepresent[The spite to survive. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[IV.] (text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Elsewhere.] <div class="lightpastpsg">What remained of a man... $advancepast[ (align:"==><=")[...drifted in soft fog…] $advancepast[ (align:"=><==")[...guided by wind unfelt… ] $advancepast[ (align:"==>")[...toward some unfathomable destination.] $advancepast[ Something tugged at his hand. $advancepast[He glanced over his shoulder. Among the indistinct haze was a gap, not unlike a canyon cloven through stone. Lysander shivered, suddenly fearful of where he’d been floating. $advancepast[The fog was cold and spare. Numbing. Gray. Through this cleft flowed sweet glows of green and gold whose heat took hold. $advancepast[He followed its beckoning, climbing through the gap into a humid, marshy hollow. Strange plants grew here, leaves speckled red and brown, the fronds of great ferns unfurling. Jewel-bright insects paid Lysander little heed as they flitted twixt flowers that glistened with sticky sap. $advancepast[“Care to join me?” called a melodic voice from up ahead. An uncanny being was seated at an unusual table. They had perched themselves on a log at the great stump, wine-colored hair tumbling behind them. Their eyes were curiously golden; their fingers ended in black claws that were wickedly sharp. They appeared to be serving tea. $advancepast[“Um—hello,” Lysander said, before sitting across from them. “You may call me Kembrael.” They tilted their head, smiling. “What is your name?” “Lysander,” he said. “But what is—I mean, where am—” Kembrael held up their hand to quell his tide of questions. Silt-dark veins crossed their palm as though it were a river delta. “It’s best to be direct in these matters. You died. You are dead. Tea?” $advancepast[“Dead?” Unwelcome memories flooded back to him. You know the ones. “Yes.” They lifted an ivory-tinged teapot, pouring an amber liquid into two hollowed out gourd halves. “Dead.” “I’m dead. But...” Lysander’s mouth had gone dry. “I’m dead. Is this... Hell?” $advancepast[Kembrael laughed, sharp and bright. “How very dare you! Goodness. My beautiful garden… that’s what you think Hell is?” “I didn’t—” “I mean, I’ve considered moving there,” they said. “The most fabulous archfiend has been trying to court me for ages. I’m not *not* interested, but... still. I don’t think I could spend my existence somewhere so...” They waved their hands, as if that explained it. “You get it, I’m sure.” “I’m dead.” $advancepast[“Right.” Kembrael clicked their claws against the side of their gourd, sending ripples across the surface of their tea. “You’re wondering why you ended up in this fey place, yes? When you died, you were buried according to old traditions. *My* traditions. You were drained of blood and gifted a fig.” $advancepast[Lysander looked down, realizing that he was indeed holding a soft, purple fruit that fit neatly into his hand. “Has that—was that always there?” They shrugged. “What’s important is what it represents—your soul. And what a beautiful thing it is, a fig, made delectable by the wasp that gave herself to its pollination, crawling inside to spread her brood. You should be careful with it.” He examined the fruit. It was bruised, but hardly wrinkled. $advancepast[Kembrael continued. “Here’s your choice. You can proceed to death—whatever you were in the process of doing before you stopped by. Simply eat the fig, merge back with your soul and, if you’re feeling dramatic, jump into that pool.” They indicated a patch of what resembled dark, still water. “If that prospect does not fill you with an exceptional amount of relief or contentment, you can take the other path. Become a vampire, and return to... well, it’s not exactly life, but it is a kind of survival.” $advancepast[“A vampire? People hate vampires,” Lysander said, cradling the fig to him. “I... I’m afraid of them.” “I know.” Kembrael sighed. “My beautiful and meaningful traditions have been neglected. Vampires turning other generations of vampires without proper rites. Without a choice. The choice that I am offering you.” Lysander weighed their words. “I would… return, and then what? I would be hunted? Become a monster lurking in the shadows, preying upon people... like she did to me?” $advancepast[“I will tell you the things that you must know,” they said, voice growing firm. “Do not forget my words. To become a vampire is to spite Death. Powerful though I am, I must admit that I cannot overrule her completely. I can grant you strength, speed, and cunning that you never had before. You will grow fangs powerful enough to pierce necks. But Death fights my gifts with vengeful curses. The heartwood of trees abhors you; let not its splinters pierce your flesh. Silver will scorch you; so too will the sanctified artifacts of so-styled holy men. But above all, your foe is the sun. Its glare is fatal to a vampire. To be seen by daylight is to perish, irrevocably.” $advancepast[Lysander sat in silence as they continued. “You will crave fresh blood. Maintaining your existence will cause pain to others. Perhaps you will become numb to inflicting this violence. Perhaps you will resent who or what the hunger forges you into. You will be hunted. You will be hated. But you will have the gift of more life. More time. That is the meaning of this choice.” $advancepast[“What do you even get out of this?” Lysander asked. “Making desperate people who have just... died—I’m dead!—into monsters?” “A bite of your fig,” Kembrael said. “And the piece of your soul it bears. While you’re out there enjoying or suffering your continued existence as a vampire, I hold onto that bit of soul and use that power for my own ends. The spiritual implications are concerning, no doubt, but I’ve never cared much for theology.” $advancepast[“So you’re some kind of demon, then. If souls are what you’re after.” “Does that terrify you, dead boy?” They laughed, less kindly this time. “That you might be speaking with a demon? How awful of me, to have threatened you with some quality conversation and a fair assessment of your options. If you do walk the earth again, monsters and fiends and other downtrodden dark ones wandering the mortal realm will become your most likely allies. There is community among the reviled. Perhaps you owe them some grace.” $advancepast[“I want it,” Lysander said. “To go back and keep going. To have more time. Who wouldn’t? Who could actually choose death? But I just... to survive, I have to kill people? I don’t think I can do it. Killing people night after night.” $advancepast[“You have the wrong idea,” Kembrael said. “Well—many vampires kill to satiate themselves. That’s true. I suspect that’s why Death even allows me to do this, claiming more lives for each that I extend. How I loathe her power… I can’t even win by spiting her. But, no. You don’t have to kill. You don’t need a lot of blood at once; you could try to negotiate for it. The nature of your cravings is unpredicatable. However, the one who killed you did so in a merciful way. She was kinder than she was cruel. That leaves an imprint, influencing the vampire you turn out to be.” $advancepast[Lysander cupped the tender fig in his hands, looking at it, trying to anchor himself to an understanding of what it would mean to give away a part of it to this otherworldly being. But, in the end, it wasn’t much of a choice. He wasn’t ready to die. $advancepast[“Here you go,” he said, reaching across the stump’s endless rings to offer Kembrael the fig. They plucked it gently from his hands, brought it to their lips, and took a bite. Something dark dribbled down their chin as they closed their eyes, savoring the taste of it. $advancepast[Lysander felt no different. $advancepast[Finally, Kembrael spoke once again. “How delicate a flavor you have, my dear.” They handed back the fig, claws brushing against Lysander’s fingers. “Before you eat the rest and awaken to your next night, do you have anything left to ask?” $advancepast[He did. $advancepast[<div class="lightchoicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why did you turn the first vampire?” ⇒->L4A1. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why does the sun hate vampires?” ⇒->L4A2. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Can vampirism be undone?” ⇒->L4A3. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Will it hurt?” ⇒->L4A4. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[IV.] (text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Elsewhere.] <div class="lightpastpsg">What remained of a man... $advancepast[ (align:"==><=")[...drifted in soft fog…] $advancepast[ (align:"=><==")[...guided by wind unfelt… ] $advancepast[ (align:"==>")[...toward some unfathomable destination.] $advancepast[ Something tugged at his hand. $advancepast[He glanced over his shoulder. Among the indistinct haze was a gap, not unlike a canyon cloven through stone. Lysander shivered, suddenly fearful of where he’d been floating. $advancepast[The fog was cold and spare. Numbing. Gray. Through this cleft flowed sweet glows of green and gold whose heat took hold. $advancepast[He followed its beckoning, climbing through the gap into a humid, marshy hollow. Strange plants grew here, leaves speckled red and brown, the fronds of great ferns unfurling. Jewel-bright insects paid Lysander little heed as they flitted twixt flowers that glistened with sticky sap. $advancepast[“Care to join me?” called a melodic voice from up ahead. An uncanny being was seated at an unusual table. They had perched themselves on a log at the great stump, wine-colored hair tumbling behind them. Their eyes were curiously golden; their fingers ended in black claws that were wickedly sharp. They appeared to be serving tea. $advancepast[“Um—hello,” Lysander said, before sitting across from them. “You may call me Kembrael.” They tilted their head, smiling. “What is your name?” “Lysander,” he said. “But what is—I mean, where am—” Kembrael held up their hand to quell his tide of questions. Silt-dark veins crossed their palm as though it were a river delta. “It’s best to be direct in these matters. You died. You are dead. Tea?” $advancepast[“Dead?” Unwelcome memories flooded back to him. You know the ones. “Yes.” They lifted an ivory-tinged teapot, pouring an amber liquid into two hollowed out gourd halves. “Dead.” “I’m dead. But...” Lysander’s mouth had gone dry. “I’m dead. Is this... Hell?” $advancepast[Kembrael laughed, sharp and bright. “How very dare you! Goodness. My beautiful garden… that’s what you think Hell is?” “I didn’t—” “I mean, I’ve considered moving there,” they said. “The most fabulous archfiend has been trying to court me for ages. I’m not *not* interested, but... still. I don’t think I could spend my existence somewhere so...” They waved their hands, as if that explained it. “You get it, I’m sure.” “I’m dead.” $advancepast[“Right.” Kembrael clicked their claws against the side of their gourd, sending ripples across the surface of their tea. “You’re wondering why you ended up in this fey place, yes? When you died, you were buried according to old traditions. *My* traditions. You were drained of blood and gifted a fig.” $advancepast[Lysander looked down, realizing that he was indeed holding a soft, purple fruit that fit neatly into his hand. “Has that—was that always there?” They shrugged. “What’s important is what it represents—your soul. And what a beautiful thing it is, a fig, made delectable by the wasp that gave herself to its pollination, crawling inside to spread her brood. You should be careful with it.” He examined the fruit. It was bruised, but hardly wrinkled. $advancepast[Kembrael continued. “Here’s your choice. You can proceed to death—whatever you were in the process of doing before you stopped by. Simply eat the fig, merge back with your soul and, if you’re feeling dramatic, jump into that pool.” They indicated a patch of what resembled dark, still water. “If that prospect does not fill you with an exceptional amount of relief or contentment, you can take the other path. Become a vampire, and return to... well, it’s not exactly life, but it is a kind of survival.” $advancepast[“A vampire? People hate vampires,” Lysander said, cradling the fig to him. “I... I’m afraid of them.” “I know.” Kembrael sighed. “My beautiful and meaningful traditions have been neglected. Vampires turning other generations of vampires without proper rites. Without a choice. The choice that I am offering you.” Lysander weighed their words. “I would… return, and then what? I would be hunted? Become a monster lurking in the shadows, preying upon people... like she did to me?” $advancepast[“I will tell you the things that you must know,” they said, voice growing firm. “Do not forget my words. To become a vampire is to spite Death. Powerful though I am, I must admit that I cannot overrule her completely. I can grant you strength, speed, and cunning that you never had before. You will grow fangs powerful enough to pierce necks. But Death fights my gifts with vengeful curses. The heartwood of trees abhors you; let not its splinters pierce your flesh. Silver will scorch you; so too will the sanctified artifacts of so-styled holy men. But above all, your foe is the sun. Its glare is fatal to a vampire. To be seen by daylight is to perish, irrevocably.” $advancepast[Lysander sat in silence as they continued. “You will crave fresh blood. Maintaining your existence will cause pain to others. Perhaps you will become numb to inflicting this violence. Perhaps you will resent who or what the hunger forges you into. You will be hunted. You will be hated. But you will have the gift of more life. More time. That is the meaning of this choice.” $advancepast[“What do you even get out of this?” Lysander asked. “Making desperate people who have just... died—I’m dead!—into monsters?” “A bite of your fig,” Kembrael said. “And the piece of your soul it bears. While you’re out there enjoying or suffering your continued existence as a vampire, I hold onto that bit of soul and use that power for my own ends. The spiritual implications are concerning, no doubt, but I’ve never cared much for theology.” $advancepast[“So you’re some kind of demon, then. If souls are what you’re after.” “Does that terrify you, dead boy?” They laughed, less kindly this time. “That you might be speaking with a demon? How awful of me, to have threatened you with some quality conversation and a fair assessment of your options. If you do walk the earth again, monsters and fiends and other downtrodden dark ones wandering the mortal realm will become your most likely allies. There is community among the reviled. Perhaps you owe them some grace.” $advancepast[“I want it,” Lysander said. “To go back and keep going. To have more time. Who wouldn’t? Who could actually choose death? But I just... to survive, I have to kill people? I don’t think I can do it. Killing people night after night.” $advancepast[“You have the wrong idea,” Kembrael said. “Well—many vampires kill to satiate themselves. That’s true. I suspect that’s why Death even allows me to do this, claiming more lives for each that I extend. How I loathe her power… I can’t even win by spiting her. But, no. You don’t have to kill. You don’t need a lot of blood at once; you could try to negotiate for it. The nature of your cravings is unpredicatable. However, the one who killed you did so in a merciful way. She was kinder than she was cruel. That leaves an imprint, influencing the vampire you turn out to be.” $advancepast[Lysander cupped the tender fig in his hands, looking at it, trying to anchor himself to an understanding of what it would mean to give away a part of it to this otherworldly being. But, in the end, it wasn’t much of a choice. He wasn’t ready to die. $advancepast[“Here you go,” he said, reaching across the stump’s endless rings to offer Kembrael the fig. They plucked it gently from his hands, brought it to their lips, and took a bite. Something dark dribbled down their chin as they closed their eyes, savoring the taste of it. $advancepast[Lysander felt no different. $advancepast[Finally, Kembrael spoke once again. “How delicate a flavor you have, my dear.” They handed back the fig, claws brushing against Lysander’s fingers. “Before you eat the rest and awaken to your next night, do you have anything left to ask?” $advancepast[He did. $advancepast[<div class="lightchoicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why did you turn the first vampire?” ⇒->L4B1. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why does the sun hate vampires?” ⇒->L4B2. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Can vampirism be undone?” ⇒->L4B3. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Will it hurt?” ⇒->L4B4. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[IV.] (text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Elsewhere.] <div class="lightpastpsg">What remained of a man... $advancepast[ (align:"==><=")[...drifted in soft fog…] $advancepast[ (align:"=><==")[...guided by wind unfelt… ] $advancepast[ (align:"==>")[...toward some unfathomable destination.] $advancepast[ Something tugged at his hand. $advancepast[He glanced over his shoulder. Among the indistinct haze was a gap, not unlike a canyon cloven through stone. Lysander shivered, suddenly fearful of where he’d been floating. $advancepast[The fog was cold and spare. Numbing. Gray. Through this cleft flowed sweet glows of green and gold whose heat took hold. $advancepast[He followed its beckoning, climbing through the gap into a humid, marshy hollow. Strange plants grew here, leaves speckled red and brown, the fronds of great ferns unfurling. Jewel-bright insects paid Lysander little heed as they flitted twixt flowers that glistened with sticky sap. $advancepast[“Care to join me?” called a melodic voice from up ahead. An uncanny being was seated at an unusual table. They had perched themselves on a log at the great stump, wine-colored hair tumbling behind them. Their eyes were curiously golden; their fingers ended in black claws that were wickedly sharp. They appeared to be serving tea. $advancepast[“Um—hello,” Lysander said, before sitting across from them. “You may call me Kembrael.” They tilted their head, smiling. “What is your name?” “Lysander,” he said. “But what is—I mean, where am—” Kembrael held up their hand to quell his tide of questions. Silt-dark veins crossed their palm as though it were a river delta. “It’s best to be direct in these matters. You died. You are dead. Tea?” $advancepast[“Dead?” Unwelcome memories flooded back to him. You know the ones. “Yes.” They lifted an ivory-tinged teapot, pouring an amber liquid into two hollowed out gourd halves. “Dead.” “I’m dead. But...” Lysander’s mouth had gone dry. “I’m dead. Is this... Hell?” $advancepast[Kembrael laughed, sharp and bright. “How very dare you! Goodness. My beautiful garden… that’s what you think Hell is?” “I didn’t—” “I mean, I’ve considered moving there,” they said. “The most fabulous archfiend has been trying to court me for ages. I’m not *not* interested, but... still. I don’t think I could spend my existence somewhere so...” They waved their hands, as if that explained it. “You get it, I’m sure.” “I’m dead.” $advancepast[“Right.” Kembrael clicked their claws against the side of their gourd, sending ripples across the surface of their tea. “You’re wondering why you ended up in this fey place, yes? When you died, you were buried according to old traditions. *My* traditions. You were drained of blood and gifted a fig.” $advancepast[Lysander looked down, realizing that he was indeed holding a soft, purple fruit that fit neatly into his hand. “Has that—was that always there?” They shrugged. “What’s important is what it represents—your soul. And what a beautiful thing it is, a fig, made delectable by the wasp that gave herself to its pollination, crawling inside to spread her brood. You should be careful with it.” He examined the fruit. It was bruised, but hardly wrinkled. $advancepast[Kembrael continued. “Here’s your choice. You can proceed to death—whatever you were in the process of doing before you stopped by. Simply eat the fig, merge back with your soul and, if you’re feeling dramatic, jump into that pool.” They indicated a patch of what resembled dark, still water. “If that prospect does not fill you with an exceptional amount of relief or contentment, you can take the other path. Become a vampire, and return to... well, it’s not exactly life, but it is a kind of survival.” $advancepast[“A vampire? People hate vampires,” Lysander said, cradling the fig to him. “I... I’m afraid of them.” “I know.” Kembrael sighed. “My beautiful and meaningful traditions have been neglected. Vampires turning other generations of vampires without proper rites. Without a choice. The choice that I am offering you.” Lysander weighed their words. “I would… return, and then what? I would be hunted? Become a monster lurking in the shadows, preying upon people... like she did to me?” $advancepast[“I will tell you the things that you must know,” they said, voice growing firm. “Do not forget my words. To become a vampire is to spite Death. Powerful though I am, I must admit that I cannot overrule her completely. I can grant you strength, speed, and cunning that you never had before. You will grow fangs powerful enough to pierce necks. But Death fights my gifts with vengeful curses. The heartwood of trees abhors you; let not its splinters pierce your flesh. Silver will scorch you; so too will the sanctified artifacts of so-styled holy men. But above all, your foe is the sun. Its glare is fatal to a vampire. To be seen by daylight is to perish, irrevocably.” $advancepast[Lysander sat in silence as they continued. “You will crave fresh blood. Maintaining your existence will cause pain to others. Perhaps you will become numb to inflicting this violence. Perhaps you will resent who or what the hunger forges you into. You will be hunted. You will be hated. But you will have the gift of more life. More time. That is the meaning of this choice.” $advancepast[“What do you even get out of this?” Lysander asked. “Making desperate people who have just... died—I’m dead!—into monsters?” “A bite of your fig,” Kembrael said. “And the piece of your soul it bears. While you’re out there enjoying or suffering your continued existence as a vampire, I hold onto that bit of soul and use that power for my own ends. The spiritual implications are concerning, no doubt, but I’ve never cared much for theology.” $advancepast[“So you’re some kind of demon, then. If souls are what you’re after.” “Does that terrify you, dead boy?” They laughed, less kindly this time. “That you might be speaking with a demon? How awful of me, to have threatened you with some quality conversation and a fair assessment of your options. If you do walk the earth again, monsters and fiends and other downtrodden dark ones wandering the mortal realm will become your most likely allies. There is community among the reviled. Perhaps you owe them some grace.” $advancepast[“I want it,” Lysander said. “To go back and keep going. To have more time. Who wouldn’t? Who could actually choose death? But I just... to survive, I have to kill people? I don’t think I can do it. Killing people night after night.” $advancepast[“You have the wrong idea,” Kembrael said. “Well—many vampires kill to satiate themselves. That’s true. I suspect that’s why Death even allows me to do this, claiming more lives for each that I extend. How I loathe her power… I can’t even win by spiting her. But, no. You don’t have to kill. You don’t need a lot of blood at once; you could try to negotiate for it. The nature of your cravings is unpredicatable. However, the one who killed you did so in a merciful way. She was kinder than she was cruel. That leaves an imprint, influencing the vampire you turn out to be.” $advancepast[Lysander cupped the tender fig in his hands, looking at it, trying to anchor himself to an understanding of what it would mean to give away a part of it to this otherworldly being. But, in the end, it wasn’t much of a choice. He wasn’t ready to die. $advancepast[“Here you go,” he said, reaching across the stump’s endless rings to offer Kembrael the fig. They plucked it gently from his hands, brought it to their lips, and took a bite. Something dark dribbled down their chin as they closed their eyes, savoring the taste of it. $advancepast[Lysander felt no different. $advancepast[Finally, Kembrael spoke once again. “How delicate a flavor you have, my dear.” They handed back the fig, claws brushing against Lysander’s fingers. “Before you eat the rest and awaken to your next night, do you have anything left to ask?” $advancepast[He did. $advancepast[<div class="lightchoicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why did you turn the first vampire?” ⇒->L4C1. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Why does the sun hate vampires?” ⇒->L4C2. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Can vampirism be undone?” ⇒->L4C3. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[“Will it hurt?” ⇒->L4C4. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[V.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Witching Hour | Pitfall.] <div class="lightpresentpsg">Sparks of pain twitched Lysander’s silver-scorched fingers. $advancepresent[He was lying on his back, gazing up and out of the pit to the sky beyond. The moon had drifted out of view, leaving behind a wake of glittering starlight. The wind must had shifted while he’d been stunned, to have cleared away the smoke that had cloaked the forest. And what a cruel wind it was, to ensure that dawn would be right on schedule. Radiance inviolate. $advancepresent[Lysander felt it in his bones; they itched as the night progressed further and further. Some instinctive sign that it was time to slink back to somewhere safe and dark. He could not yet rest. $advancepresent[Lysander groaned as he sat up, shaking more dirt from his hair and retying the ribbon. A spiderweb of silver wire gleamed where he’d scratched away the flakes of dried mud from the mouth of the pit. To consign that much silver to a vampire death trap required hatred with extravagant funding. $advancepresent[No doubt, this was the work of the dorries. Was there no escaping it? $advancepresent[As a child, Lysander had read tales of legendary vampires who lived in remote fortresses and castles. Their mere presence in the world bent the sky to perennial gloom; the sun dared not show itself where they walked. Now, he wondered if there was something more insidious about the stories told about these vampires. They had been terrifying in their brutality, their despotic violence justifying their extermination; yet, felled by weak heroes with humble remedies. $advancepresent[That was the lot of a vampire: to be strong and weak in equal measure; to die and bring the populace pleasure. $advancepresent[And those were *rich* vampires. $advancepresent[Lysander wondered if Kembrael would be disappointed in him. He’d survived another what… five years? That was hardly spiting Death. She probably hadn’t even noticed the time missing from her accounts. $advancepresent[Battered though he was, Lysander wasn’t willing to give up. He stood, debris cascading off his clothes. He leaned against the side of the pit for support as he composed himself. $advancepresent[Once he felt stable enough to pace, he took a closer look at the wall he had been climbing. The exposed silver had been a nasty surprise, and likely, more of it lurked in the walls of the trap. However, his repeated attempts to climb out had inflicted meaningful damage. That side of the enclosure had crumbled, becoming moderately less sheer and offering a few extra inches of give that it hadn’t before. $advancepresent[As reckless as it sounded to keep trying the same thing that had already not worked, Lysander considered it. Another possibility occurred to him, perhaps equally perilous. To call for help. Would anyone be near enough to hear him? Would they be willing, let alone able, to aid a vampire who might immediately turn on them in pursuit of fresh blood? $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[V.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Witching Hour | Pitfall.] <div class="lightpresentpsg">Unlike Lysander, the moon had made significant progress. $advancepresent[He’d wasted precious time scraping the ground and scratching dried mud off the walls of the pit. Each test revealed another patch of silver. It mocked his efforts, winking under the starlight. Lysander felt nauseous, the metallic miasma now stifling. He sat, leaning against one of the walls, trying to shake off his vertigo. $advancepresent[He’d never been around such an extreme amount of silver. Its toxicity had caught him off guard. The price of this death trap must have been staggering. He struggled to comprehend it; to have wealth to squander on such a cruel endeavor as this. $advancepresent[Was it some kind of spiteful irony? As a child, Lysander had read tales of vampiric aristocrats. Tyrants who haunted giant, miserable castles. Those storied vampires had been sadistic. Even with access to more blood and sunless space than any could need, they furnished their chambers with devices that slashed and tore and bruised and ripped and stretched. For them, blood extraction had become secondary. The warm pleasure of feeding had sublimated; leaving darker pleasures behind. $advancepresent[Torment for the sake of torment. Pain for the sake of pain. Power for the sake of power. $advancepresent[Lysander wondered now about the scribes for these tales. Humans who recounted with breathless fervor the precise mechanics of such torturous instruments. How would they have justified it? Would they say that the sins of a vampire must be documented? It would be historical malpractice to omit the most lurid details, sparing the reputations of monsters. Their readers deserved to know what they were up against. $advancepresent[He snorted. Evidently, rich vampire lords were far from the only ones who took pleasure from agony. Was that the point of this trap? If killing vampires was the goal, it could have been done quickly and efficiently. More and sharper stakes. Silver exposed from the outset, rather than slathered with dirt and mud. It wasn’t enough for the dorries to see him dead. They wanted him to suffer for that most grievous of sins: refusing the sun. $advancepresent[Righteousness, a path winding back to senseless cruelty. Radiance in violence. $advancepresent[Lysander shook his head. Hunger, exhaustion, and silver exposure had clearly taken a harsh toll. The motivations of his would-be killers mattered less than the pragmatics of escape. Vertigo abated, he stood. He had ideas for what to try next. $advancepresent[Though the silver mesh had been dispiriting, a distant memory swam to the forefront of his mind, from before he had even become a vampire. He’d been struggling to break down wooden crates for his boss, until another worker had told him to bash them on their corners, where the joints were the most vulnerable. That could apply here, couldn’t it? Perhaps there was a gap in the silver mesh where the ground met sheer walls. A corner to exploit. He sighed. Digging based on a hunch, with no real tools and little time? That was the best he could come up with? $advancepresent[There was another possibility that had been stewing at the back of his mind: to call for help. This seemed truly perilous. If the pit had been constructed not only to kill, but also to torment, wouldn’t it follow that the person most likely to be in its vicinity would be its maker? They’d want to watch. Wouldn’t they? But his shouts could also draw anyone else to this pit. Maybe even someone he had a chance to reason with. $advancepresent[Neither option sounded that promising, but he had to try something. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[V.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Witching Hour | Pitfall.] <div class="lightpresentpsg">Lysander’s dedicated observation betrayed more of the pit’s trappings. $advancepresent[Silver lined the walls, metal mesh revealed by careful scraping. Its noxious aura unnerved him, but he staved off the worst of its influence. His inspection of the ground turned up a few loose stones. Perhaps he could shatter mirrors with them, but they were many, and he was weak. What, then, had caution afforded him? $advancepresent[Had deliberation become a mask for indecision? $advancepresent[Lysander stopped pacing, gazing down toward his feet. $advancepresent[For all his detective work, straining to see and hear and smell at the barest edges of perception, he’d overlooked the trap’s most basic feature. Wooden stakes. “Too clever by half,” Lysander mused. “Or hardly clever at all?” He’d still been thinking like a vampire, stepping gingerly around their vicious points. $advancepresent[Kembrael’s warning echoed in his mind. “Let not its splinters pierce your flesh.” That’s what they had said. But what was the purpose of a stake, if not to spear a much less fragile foe? $advancepresent[Dirt. $advancepresent[As presently arranged, these heartwood spikes lanced upward from the ground. With a simple rotation of perspective, could they not instead be driven into walls? Three or four stakes, appropriately spaced, could transform an unscalable cliff into an improvised ladder. This prospect gave Lysander no small measure of vindictive pleasure; to turn these tools of terror toward a purpose fairer. $advancepresent[Still, there were problems. Stakes were dangerous for a vampire to handle. He didn’t know exactly what would happen if their splinters broke off into his skin. But, if it were anything like how it felt to grasp silver, this wasn’t the time to find out. That wasn’t even the end of it. To dig them out of the ground was one thing; to thrust them into the wall was another. In such a state of hunger, would he have the strength to drive them? If he did, would they support his weight without fail? $advancepresent[Another option remained untapped. It had lingered at the back of Lysander’s mind—the recognition that it was far more difficult to escape a trap alone than with help. He could call for aid. Scream into the staling night. That brought its own dangers. Everything he’d uncovered about this pit signaled a dedicated, resourceful operation. The illusory deer—an impressive feat of witchcraft. Few could conjure such phantasms. The silver lining—a cruel expression of outlandish wealth. Few could afford such sadism. Worst of all, the mirrors—numerous and subtle in their arrangement, deadly at dawn. Few could sustain such fastidiousness. His shouts could draw the dorries. But they might also draw someone else to his rescue. Someone he could reason with. $advancepresent[Neither option lacked peril, but the time for hesitance had passed. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 3)[V.] (text-color:"#909aaf")+(text-size: 1.15)[Witching Hour | Vintopol Outskirts.] <div class="lightpresentpsg">Everything Lysander needed to escape had been there from the start. $advancepresent[He tore strip after strip from his coat, putting as much fabric as possible between heartwood and undead flesh. He pried each stake from its housing, discarding the brittle and sparing the sturdy. With a loose stone he bashed them, one after another after another, driving each stake through dry caked mud and silver mesh to tender clay beyond. Each swing burnt the dregs of his energy, but he hadn’t stopped. Without a glance back, he climbed, step after step, and at last, clambered over the edge of the pit onto sweet earth above. $advancepresent[Lysander lay there for a moment, hair pulled loose from his ribbon, gazing at the stars. $advancepresent[Relief. $advancepresent[Triumph. $advancepresent[Hunger… $advancepresent[He coaxed himself to his feet. There couldn’t be another night like this. Not ever. He had to feed on something. Something real this time. Lysander released the sky from his stare, and found himself face to face with an unfamiliar man. He recoiled, putting more distance between them. $advancepresent[The newcomer stood his ground. “You got out.” His eyes shone jewel-bright beneath overgrown brows. “Was it you?” Lysander demanded, suddenly angry. “You made this death trap?” “No,” the man said, voice firm and cold. He stood his ground, but tensed for a fight. $advancepresent[“Don’t lie!” Lysander paced to and fro, claws digging into the palms of his hands. “Just out for a stroll, are you? At the witching hour? By the vampire murder pit?!” “I don’t lie,” the man spat. “It’s not my work.” “It was *your* blood in there! I can smell it, even from here.” He wondered how the scent had ever confused him so—of course it had been human. “That’s not all you reek of—you’re a Tennebrin, aren’t you?” The other man’s eyes widened. He gave a short, startled laugh. $advancepresent[“Don’t—don’t *laugh*!” Lysander’s rage crested as the proximity of blood flooded his senses. Oh, he would feed after all. He would! “Vampire!” His foe shouted, his voice a harsh bark. “Control yourself!” $advancepresent[The vampire swayed, febrile in his thirst. Warmth poured off this man, this... vile hoarder of heat, who stank of blood, so rank and sweet. $advancepresent[That angular face bore into him. “Remember yourself!” What a cruel man. To be so rich of vigor, yet deny him the most meager of sustenance? Not even a drop? Cold hands trembled under the strain of injustice. “Remember your name!” $advancepresent[Lysander. $advancepresent[The fever broke, waves of hunger now ebbed, losing their desperate heat. A sinking, cold wind moaned in the pit of his gut. He clutched his face. “Good.” The man kept his distance. “Good. Your name?” “Lysander,” the vampire said. “Thibault,” he replied. $advancepresent[The taut air between them slackened. Lysander wasn’t calm, exactly, but he’d wrested back most of his faculties from the clutches of bloodthirst. “You’re a Tennebrin?” Lysander asked, finally, still needing an answer. “I was,” Thibault didn’t laugh this time. “No longer.” He paused. “Though, does anyone truly *stop* being a Tennebrin?” “I don’t understand.” “You are Lysander—the one Serge killed at the Marquise’s wedding?” Thibault asked. “You’re that Lysander, no?” $advancepresent[“Serge?” The chaotic memories of his death swirled about him. $advancepresent[“Yes, it must be you. That’s the one you owe vengeance,” Thibault said. “Serge Tennebrin. He built this pit.” $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Spiral. ⇒->L6CA. Past]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancesilver to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#94999f)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#657487")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Argentime | Silverance.]</div> <div class="lightsilverpsg">Death approached from above. $advancesilver[Her face sublime darkness he could not gaze into. Her hair blue-bright fire that seared red streaks across sickled eyes. Her vestments gossamer shawls whose edges wisped into smoke. Quicksilver pooled at his fingertips, braiding stars into her wrappings. She bowed, unspooling tendrils of light that streamed all around him. Uncanny faces writhed unfabric. $advancesilver[(align:"==>")[First came the voice of René.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would mortals lament you. How could black boots ever mourn crushed dirt?”] $advancesilver[(align:"<==")[Second came the voice of Kembrael.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would time pardon you. How could eternal designs ever spare crumbling bones?”] $advancesilver[(align:"==>")[Third came the voice of Camille.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would purpose free you. How could numb fingers ever cradle dreams?”] $advancesilver[(align:"<==")[Fourth came the voice of Gwendolyn.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would aesthetes revere you. How could rotten tongues ever savor mold?”] $advancesilver[(align:"==>")[Fifth came the voice of Gannethil.] (align:"=><=")[ “Never would love warm you. How could wayward devils ever lap at blissful saucers?”] $advancesilver[(align:"<==")[Last came the voice of Death.] (align:"=><=")[She said—] $advancesilver[(align:"===><=")[nothing] $advancesilver[(align:"=><===")[—at all.] $advancesilver[“Lysander,” he insisted. “I’m Lysander.” $advancesilver[<div class="lightchoicesilverpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#373a3e)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#516785")))[[[Desilver. ⇒->L7AA. Present]]] </div>]]]]]]]]]]]</div>

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancegan to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#6e00bc")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Chthontemps.] <div class="lightganpsg">Strictly speaking, Chthontemps didn’t exist. $advancegan[Not to the sun, whose rays could never dream of tormenting its depths. Not to the city’s auditors, whose ledgers remained bereft of swindled taxes. And certainly not to the patrons in the tavern above, who drank and danced and sang and loved and fought, never troubled by thoughts that disreputable creatures might congregate beneath their feet. Chthontemps, a bar that didn’t exist, was dying. $advancegan[It was past midnight. Lysander had delivered the latest shipment from the dairy, to the relief of the barkeep. He’d tried crossing into the city for the last two nights, but the patrolling dorries had escalated their presence. He lingered, craving blood—of course, always—but more importantly, connection. Once cozy, Chthontemps now felt sparse, its few patrons sitting far apart, their distance tense. One of them caught Lysander’s eye. $advancegan[Tucked away in one of the corners was a table featuring a purple-skinned devil wearing a shabby pinstriped suit. “May I sit?” Lysander asked. The devil appraised him, eyes bright and alert. “Of course.” With surprising grace, he gathered loose paperwork spread across the table, filed it into a battered briefcase, and clicked the latch closed. Lysander sat across from him, watching his progress. The devil had a shock of coiffed hair, dark with a few distinguished streaks of silver. One of his horns had broken off, leaving behind a scarred stump. Lysander touched his own chest, instinctively, where the crossbow bolt had pierced him. $advancegan[“To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” the devil asked, claws tapping the rim of his goblet. “I’m Lysander. Just passing through here, I guess.” He paused. “I’ve never seen Chthontemps this empty. I hope you don’t mind the company.” “Well met,” the man across from him said. “I’m Gannethil. I work in the city.” $advancegan[They sat in silence for a few companionable moments. Gannethil sipped from his goblet, which started smoking slightly as he set it back down. Lysander peered at the seething liquid, incredulous. “Are you—are you drinking *holy water*?” $advancegan[“I can’t get drunk here. Demon metabolism, you know. This is the only thing I can drink that has much of a kick.” He seemed to make a realization of his own. “Ah—I’m sorry. I guess I can’t feed you tonight, if that’s what you were hoping for. I mean, unless you particularly want to find out happens to a vampire that drinks infernal ichor infused with holy water. A contradiction of flavors if I’ve ever heard of one.” “You do smell like you’d be delicious,” Lysander said. He grew mortified as his thoughts caught up to his words. $advancegan[Gannethil stared at him for a beat, and then laughed. “You know what? Thank you. That’s absurd, what you just said, and I think we both know that. But thank you.” He adjusted his tie with an idle claw. “You know what? I like you. It reminds me of this establishment’s better nights. There used to always be someone new and interesting. I couldn’t tell you how many clients I’ve gotten here.” “Clients?” “I work at the judicial bureau, as a public defender. You know, for the ones like us who none of the humans will represent at their tribunals. It’s grim work.” “What?” Lysander asked. “You work for the city? The dorries? I know they hate vampires, but they must *really* hate devils. Why lend them any legitimacy? Why pretend their laws are worth the paper they’re scribed upon?” $advancegan[“That’s true,” Gannethil said. “I absolutely frequent this bar and drink toxic substances because I want to think *more* about my job. You’re right.” “Oh no—” Lysander began. “I’m sorry, I—” $advancegan[“No, it’s fine. Really. I brought it up. I’ll tell you. The first reason is, I don’t think there’s any way I can fulfill the terms of my original summoning contract at this point. If I did return to Hell, in violation of certain clauses… I won’t traumatize you with the details. But listen. The Disciples tried to smite me once and failed.” Gannethil gestured to his broken horn. “I don’t want them to keep trying. Call it vanity if you must, but I’d like to keep my other horn. I’m rather fond of it. I know mortals. If they keep trying, eventually they’ll find a way to conduct a proper demonic banishment. At least in this role, I provide them enough a service to discourage, or at least delay that.” $advancegan[“Self-preservation then?” Lysander mulled it over. “I guess that makes sense.” $advancegan[The devil continued, readier to vent about his work than he’d been willing to admit. “The second reason is that... look, I wouldn’t dare be so *prideful* as to brag, but I’m a good lawyer? Sure, some of my clients are terrified of me. And perhaps a few have forfeited cases just to escape my presence. But, uh... well, the ones that give me a chance? The solicitor prime, for all his dedication in appeasing the Disciples and their lust to smite this and purge that, is lazy and overconfident. I win some of those cases. And you know what that means? One more werewolf, half-fiend, or eldritch abomination relieved of a gruesome fate, out there with another chance.” $advancegan[“So, it’s charity.” Lysander wasn’t sure where the devil was going with all this, but it was the most he had spoken with anyone for weeks. “How virtuous!” “Oh yes,” Gannethil leaned forward, eyes glittering. “My virtues are legion. Just don’t mention that around my archfiend. I wouldn’t want her to think any less of me than she already does.” “What’s the real reason, then?” Lysander asked. “Not that I don’t believe you. I’m sure those explanations have truth to them. But there’s something else, isn’t there?” $advancegan[“I’m afraid so,” he said. “The real reason, then. Well. It’s the same reason, I imagine, that someone of your fanged disposition might hang around abattoirs. Hunger.” His gaze had an intensity that Lysander hadn’t seen before. “The tribunals. All that anxiety, sadness, and fear? There is perhaps no greater concentration of misery, for leagues upon leagues in any possible direction, than what resides at the heart of the Vintopol Judicial Bureau.” The tension in his shoulders eased a bit. “Look. I mean well, I do. But I am still a demon, and being around that suffering feels... good to me. I can’t explain it, except to say it’s the only way I can feel sated. For a time. They get expert legal representation from one of Hell’s premiere earthbound deadbeats, and in return, I dine on their shadows. Maybe you think it’s abhorrent—utmost sympathies—but maybe you get it, with the whole blood thing? Should I have to starve myself out of existence just because I’m stuck here?” $advancegan[“No, I think I get it,” Lysander said, reaching his hand across the table to rest upon Gannethil’s. “I mean, I don’t hang out at abattoirs. For me, it’s the hunt. The bloodlust draws me out of hiding. They are so reckless—the hunters, I mean. And cruel. Leaving terrified creatures to die when their aim is less than true. I can grant them a swifter death, and also feed. That’s how my sire Camille turned me, so I can’t help but return to that feeling. The forest calls to me.” $advancegan[Gannethil let Lysander’s hand linger over his. “I sure regret drinking all that holy water now.” He sighed a bit more dramatically than was strictly necessary. “To be poor, beleaguered prey, and let a big, strong vampire grant mercy to me? I guess I might be into that.” “I—what?” Lysander’s nearly bloodless cheeks grew warm with the ghost of a blush. “Don’t tease me like that!” “Oh come on, that’s too forward? You’re the one who approached me, after all.” His lips quirked into a wicked grin. “And you know what else you said? You told me I, and this is a direct quote, ‘smell like I’d be delicious.’ How is a sweet innocent fiend meant to take such statements?” He withdrew a small, purple card from the breast pocket on his suit jacket. “I should leave you a chance to find a more suitable meal. But, think it over. If you *are* interested, stop by my office some other night? I would love to explore this further.” He paused. “Or I guess if you need actual legal representation?” $advancegan[<div class="lightchoiceganpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#8351a6")))[[[Accept. ⇒->L6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Decline. ⇒->L6ABB. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancegan to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#6e00bc")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Chthontemps.] <div class="lightganpsg">Strictly speaking, Chthontemps didn’t exist. $advancegan[Not to the sun, whose rays could never dream of tormenting its depths. Not to the city’s auditors, whose ledgers remained bereft of swindled taxes. And certainly not to the patrons in the tavern above, who drank and danced and sang and loved and fought, never troubled by thoughts that disreputable creatures might congregate beneath their feet. Chthontemps, a bar that didn’t exist, was dying. $advancegan[It was past midnight. Lysander had delivered the latest shipment from the dairy, to the relief of the barkeep. He’d tried crossing into the city for the last two nights, but the patrolling dorries had escalated their presence. He lingered, craving blood—of course, always—but more importantly, connection. Once cozy, Chthontemps now felt sparse, its few patrons sitting far apart, their distance tense. One of them caught Lysander’s eye. $advancegan[Tucked away in one of the corners was a table featuring a purple-skinned devil wearing a shabby pinstriped suit. “May I sit?” Lysander asked. The devil appraised him, eyes bright and alert. “Of course.” With surprising grace, he gathered loose paperwork spread across the table, filed it into a battered briefcase, and clicked the latch closed. Lysander sat across from him, watching his progress. The devil had a shock of coiffed hair, dark with a few distinguished streaks of silver. One of his horns had broken off, leaving behind a scarred stump. Lysander touched his own chest, instinctively, where the crossbow bolt had pierced him. $advancegan[“To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” the devil asked, claws tapping the rim of his goblet. “I’m Lysander. Just passing through here, I guess.” He paused. “I’ve never seen Chthontemps this empty. I hope you don’t mind the company.” “Well met,” the man across from him said. “I’m Gannethil. I work in the city.” $advancegan[They sat in silence for a few companionable moments. Gannethil sipped from his goblet, which started smoking slightly as he set it back down. Lysander peered at the seething liquid, incredulous. “Are you—are you drinking *holy water*?” $advancegan[“I can’t get drunk here. Demon metabolism, you know. This is the only thing I can drink that has much of a kick.” He seemed to make a realization of his own. “Ah—I’m sorry. I guess I can’t feed you tonight, if that’s what you were hoping for. I mean, unless you particularly want to find out happens to a vampire that drinks infernal ichor infused with holy water. A contradiction of flavors if I’ve ever heard of one.” “You do smell like you’d be delicious,” Lysander said. He grew mortified as his thoughts caught up to his words. $advancegan[Gannethil stared at him for a beat, and then laughed. “You know what? Thank you. That’s absurd, what you just said, and I think we both know that. But thank you.” He adjusted his tie with an idle claw. “You know what? I like you. It reminds me of this establishment’s better nights. There used to always be someone new and interesting. I couldn’t tell you how many clients I’ve gotten here.” “Clients?” “I work at the judicial bureau, as a public defender. You know, for the ones like us who none of the humans will represent at their tribunals. It’s grim work.” “What?” Lysander asked. “You work for the city? The dorries? I know they hate vampires, but they must *really* hate devils. Why lend them any legitimacy? Why pretend their laws are worth the paper they’re scribed upon?” $advancegan[“That’s true,” Gannethil said. “I absolutely frequent this bar and drink toxic substances because I want to think *more* about my job. You’re right.” “Oh no—” Lysander began. “I’m sorry, I—” $advancegan[“No, it’s fine. Really. I brought it up. I’ll tell you. The first reason is, I don’t think there’s any way I can fulfill the terms of my original summoning contract at this point. If I did return to Hell, in violation of certain clauses… I won’t traumatize you with the details. But listen. The Disciples tried to smite me once and failed.” Gannethil gestured to his broken horn. “I don’t want them to keep trying. Call it vanity if you must, but I’d like to keep my other horn. I’m rather fond of it. I know mortals. If they keep trying, eventually they’ll find a way to conduct a proper demonic banishment. At least in this role, I provide them enough a service to discourage, or at least delay that.” $advancegan[“Self-preservation then?” Lysander mulled it over. “I guess that makes sense.” $advancegan[The devil continued, readier to vent about his work than he’d been willing to admit. “The second reason is that... look, I wouldn’t dare be so *prideful* as to brag, but I’m a good lawyer? Sure, some of my clients are terrified of me. And perhaps a few have forfeited cases just to escape my presence. But, uh... well, the ones that give me a chance? The solicitor prime, for all his dedication in appeasing the Disciples and their lust to smite this and purge that, is lazy and overconfident. I win some of those cases. And you know what that means? One more werewolf, half-fiend, or eldritch abomination relieved of a gruesome fate, out there with another chance.” $advancegan[“So, it’s charity.” Lysander wasn’t sure where the devil was going with all this, but it was the most he had spoken with anyone for weeks. “How virtuous!” “Oh yes,” Gannethil leaned forward, eyes glittering. “My virtues are legion. Just don’t mention that around my archfiend. I wouldn’t want her to think any less of me than she already does.” “What’s the real reason, then?” Lysander asked. “Not that I don’t believe you. I’m sure those explanations have truth to them. But there’s something else, isn’t there?” $advancegan[“I’m afraid so,” he said. “The real reason, then. Well. It’s the same reason, I imagine, that someone of your fanged disposition might hang around abattoirs. Hunger.” His gaze had an intensity that Lysander hadn’t seen before. “The tribunals. All that anxiety, sadness, and fear? There is perhaps no greater concentration of misery, for leagues upon leagues in any possible direction, than what resides at the heart of the Vintopol Judicial Bureau.” The tension in his shoulders eased a bit. “Look. I mean well, I do. But I am still a demon, and being around that suffering feels... good to me. I can’t explain it, except to say it’s the only way I can feel sated. For a time. They get expert legal representation from one of Hell’s premiere earthbound deadbeats, and in return, I dine on their shadows. Maybe you think it’s abhorrent—utmost sympathies—but maybe you get it, with the whole blood thing? Should I have to starve myself out of existence just because I’m stuck here?” $advancegan[“No, I think I get it,” Lysander said, reaching his hand across the table to rest upon Gannethil’s. “I mean, I don’t hang out at abattoirs. For me, it’s the hunt. The bloodlust draws me out of hiding. They are so reckless—the hunters, I mean. And cruel. Leaving terrified creatures to die when their aim is less than true. I can grant them a swifter death, and also feed. That’s how my sire Camille turned me, so I can’t help but return to that feeling. The forest calls to me.” $advancegan[Gannethil let Lysander’s hand linger over his. “I sure regret drinking all that holy water now.” He sighed a bit more dramatically than was strictly necessary. “To be poor, beleaguered prey, and let a big, strong vampire grant mercy to me? I guess I might be into that.” “I—what?” Lysander’s nearly bloodless cheeks grew warm with the ghost of a blush. “Don’t tease me like that!” “Oh come on, that’s too forward? You’re the one who approached me, after all.” His lips quirked into a wicked grin. “And you know what else you said? You told me I, and this is a direct quote, ‘smell like I’d be delicious.’ How is a sweet innocent fiend meant to take such statements?” He withdrew a small, purple card from the breast pocket on his suit jacket. “I should leave you a chance to find a more suitable meal. But, think it over. If you *are* interested, stop by my office some other night? I would love to explore this further.” He paused. “Or I guess if you need actual legal representation?” $advancegan[<div class="lightchoiceganpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#8351a6")))[[[Accept. ⇒->L6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Decline. ⇒->L6BAB. Past]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="lightpastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="lightchoicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Deliberate. ⇒->L7CA. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="lightpastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="lightchoicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Ascend. ⇒->L7BBA. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="lightpastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="lightchoicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Rue. ⇒->L7BBB. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="lightpastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="lightchoicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Ascend. ⇒->L7CBA. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#db583c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Gwendolyn’s Cellar] <div class="lightpastpsg">Starting life anew as a vampire had been chaotic and overwhelming. $advancepast[Lysander didn’t remember much of those early months. Camille had been there to help, even though she didn’t strictly need to. She had used her connections to link him up with Gwendolyn’s dairy, collecting on some favor they owed. Things had been tense at first. Frigid, even. Lysander stayed well out of Gwendolyn’s way, lurking in the cellar while they went about their business. Their paths rarely crossed. But, over time, the tension thawed, as such things do. $advancepast[Lysander grew more comfortable with Gwendolyn’s blunt communication style, which brooked little of his dithering. In turn, Gwendolyn grew more comfortable with Lysander’s incredible sense of smell. Once they realized the unique advantages of harboring a vampiric affineur, they had leapt several rungs up the apparently quite ruthless ladder of boutique fromagerie. The result for Lysander was a lonely kind of stasis. $advancepast[On one hand, he was unable to return to anything he’d been doing before his untimely death. On the other, his newfound vulnerabilites stymied any hopes for grand adventures. Though initially grateful for the security he’d been afforded, it wasn’t long before his restive mind brewed bitter poison. Camille paid him a visit in the cellar, and he did his best to explain his ennui. $advancepast[“It’s the Tennebrins,” he said, after a long pause. “I can’t stop thinking about them.” “What do you mean?” Camille asked, vaguely amused. Despite his protests, she’d lounged upon a stack of the largest cheese wheels she could find, no doubt corrupting their rinds with bizarre new flavor notes. $advancepast[“I mean, they killed me! René left me out there to die. And that guy who shot me, I don’t even know who he was. What kind of demented bastard shoots a guy with a crossbow? Who does that? And all those people are just out there, living their lives like nothing even happened, having their fêtes and soirées while I’m stuck down here. What about justice? What about vengeance?” “I see.” Camille’s smile had faded. “Is that what you want to live for? Vengeance?” “Yes? No? I don’t know. I’m not living for much else, am I?” Lysander brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn’t realized how much rage he’d been suppressing until it erupted. $advancepast[“I have no love for the Tennebrins,” she said. “But I’ve known people who lived for vengeance. Not just vampires, either. It didn’t go well. It didn’t bring them peace, nor much satisfaction. You could spend all your years plotting some grand scheme to take them down, but what would that even get you?” Lysander sighed. “You’re probably right.” “Well, yes,” she said, rather smugly. $advancepast[“But I need something to live for. Why become a vampire for essentially no reason? I’m comfortable here. Thankful for the safety. The cheese is lovely, I’m sure, for those who can actually eat it. It’s just hard not to focus on the things I can’t do.” The unruly lock of hair came loose from behind his ear. He pushed it back in its place. Camille hummed, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she had more to say. “Well, here’s a place to start: before all this, what were you going to do? With your mortal life, I mean.” $advancepast[“That’s the thing,” Lysander said. “I hadn’t really decided yet. Made a plan. I mean, I should’ve, I guess. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Pick a dream, and grasp for it with everything you have, right?” “Sure,” Camille said. “That’s where I felt I was. On the cusp of becoming someone with a dream, and then it ended, and the horizon faded away. But, I don’t know… I think I was wrong. I think I was always going to be on the cusp. Wandering, not dreaming, and certainly not grasping. All I’ve found is something I *don’t* want to do: die. Tried it, didn’t care for it.” “Of course,” Camille said. “No one else has thought this. You’d be the first.” $advancepast[Lysander felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” “No, no,” she chided. “Don’t apologize. That’s not my point—I’m glad to hear you talk through it. Here’s what I think. You’ve *got* to go out in the world and talk to people. Look, it’s hard for us. Dangerous, even. But if you’re not happy here, the only way forward is out. Explore the city. Roam the countryside. Make out with a big fuzzy werewolf, if the thought of that thrills you. It’s true that a lot of people hate vampires. But you know what? At night, most of those people are asleep.” $advancepast[“I guess you’re right,” he said, brushing back his wayward hair for the third time. Camille’s bright orange eyes flashed, and she rummaged through her satchel. After a few moments, she found what she was looking for, wadded it up, and tossed it into his lap. “For your hair,” she said. $advancepast[It was a pale blue ribbon, soft between his fingers. He gathered his hair, at last, and tied it back. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s much better.” $advancepast[“Look, I know a place you can start. Chthontemps. Just, uh, don’t ask me how to spell it. It’s a bar—kind of. For people like us. Beneath a much more reputable tavern. If you can get into the city, try to find it. I guarantee you, someone or something interesting will be there. But I’m not your mother. Do what you want.” He’d taken her advice. $advancepast[Where, ultimately, had it gotten him? $advancepast[<div class="lightchoicepastpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Scramble. ⇒->L7CBB. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">Lysander rolled over, nauseous, his vision still streaking. $advancepresent[Wounds filigreed his fingers. He pulled himself into a sitting position against the wall, wincing as his hands sparked and sizzled. The sky had grown noticeably lighter, silver fading to blue. Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander heard footsteps echo through the still air. He looked up. “Hello? Is someone there?” The footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed. $advancepresent[A man draped in sickly yellow robes appeared overhead. Lysander’s stomach dropped, gut ceasing its moans for blood long enough to curdle. It was unmistakable; the garb befitting a Disciple of Radiance Inviolate. $advancepresent[“Dead flesh ought not speak out of turn.” The dorrie’s voice carried across the hollow. $advancepresent[Lysander squinted up at his face. Those features were familiar. Straw-colored hair. Thin lips. Hateful, loathsome eyes. He knew that face. “It’s *you*,” Lysander said. “With the crossbow. You shot me! You left me—you left me to die!” $advancepresent[The Disciple peered over, and—recognizing Lysander—gave a sudden peal of laughter, bright like brass bells. “So I did.” “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Lysander demanded. “For your—your crimes?! You just—what, go to weddings and murder whoever it is you don’t like? Build death traps for vampires?” His killer gazed down from above. “Dawn is imminent. Can’t you feel it—the rising of the light? Won’t it be a beautiful morning?” $advancepresent[Lysander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I did *nothing* to you. I don’t even *know* you. You ruined my life. You ruined everything. Why?” “Things that rot should be discarded.” $advancepresent[Birds chirped in the distance. $advancepresent[“So what, you’re here to watch?” Lysander asked. “Smite what you fear, and get off on it, too?” “The sun will judge us both,” the dorrie proclaimed. “And which of us, pray tell, will be found lacking? Radiance Inviolate’s most loyal disciple? Or grave dust that deludes itself a person?” $advancepresent[Lysander’s rage and panic built in tandem. $advancepresent[No—this couldn’t happen. $advancepresent[Not again. Not ever, ever again. $advancepresent[He had to stop it. $advancepresent[He had to do something. $advancepresent[Anything. $advancepresent[What could he do? $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7AAB. Unleash]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Chthontemps.] <div class="lightganpsg">Lysander had his doubts about devils. $advancepast[A mote of disappointment wafted across Gannethil’s face as he processed the awkwardness of an unexpected rejection. The card vanished in a puff of lilac-scented smoke. Lysander was gripped with an emotion he didn’t fully understand. Regret? $advancepast[The moment passed. Gannethil gave him a polite smile. “Do try to stay out of trouble, won’t you?” He hadn’t. Clearly. $advancepast[Two nights later, the Disciples of Radiance Inviolate had finally followed through on their threats to topple civil governance in Vintopol. Dozens, if not hundreds, had been killed in the frenzy. Destroyed, the dorries might call it. $advancepast[Purged. $advancepast[Smote. $advancepast[Exorcised. $advancepast[Eradicated. $advancepast[Purified. $advancepast[Words that eclipsed the true meaning of what they had wrought. $advancepast[And so, Lysander had fled, never knowing if Gannethil had escaped that grim fate. $advancepast[<div class="lightchoiceganpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Despair. ⇒->L7ABB. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepast to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#ba1b01")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-color:"#ae6810")+(text-size: 3)[VI.] (text-size: 1.15)[Recollection | Chthontemps.] <div class="lightganpsg">Lysander had his doubts about devils. $advancepast[A mote of disappointment wafted across Gannethil’s face as he processed the awkwardness of an unexpected rejection. The card vanished in a puff of lilac-scented smoke. Lysander was gripped with an emotion he didn’t fully understand. Regret? $advancepast[The moment passed. Gannethil gave him a polite smile. “Do try to stay out of trouble, won’t you?” He hadn’t. Clearly. $advancepast[Two nights later, the Disciples of Radiance Inviolate had finally followed through on their threats to topple civil governance in Vintopol. Dozens, if not hundreds, had been killed in the frenzy. Destroyed, the dorries might call it. $advancepast[Purged. $advancepast[Smote. $advancepast[Exorcised. $advancepast[Eradicated. $advancepast[Purified. $advancepast[Words that eclipsed the true meaning of what they had wrought. $advancepast[And so, Lysander had fled, never knowing if Gannethil had escaped that grim fate. $advancepast[<div class="lightchoiceganpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Despair. ⇒->L7BAB. Present]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Footsteps, too, approached. “Thibault? Is that you?” Lysander asked, ceasing his anxious pacing. $advancepresent[“It is.” The now familiar angular face peered down from the rim of the pit. Thibault surveyed the vampire for a few more moments. $advancepresent[“I have a rope ladder,” he said, finally. “I tied it around a tree. Before I send it down, I have one more question.” Doubt prickled Lysander’s skin. Had the reality of allowing a self-admitted vampire come near him finally settled in? “What is it?” Lysander asked. $advancepresent[“You must control yourself.” Thibault’s firm voice hung over the pit. “Do you promise not to bite me, until or unless I give you permission?” “Yes,” Lysander said quickly. Thibault stared down at him, impassive. $advancepresent[“Yes,” Lysander said again. “I—I know it’s scary, to be around a vampire. And I—yes, I am hungry. But I wouldn’t do that. Hurt someone who was trying to help me. I promise.” “I see.” Thibault stepped away from the edge. Lysander waited another agonizing moment. Was this it? Had he at last said the thing that would scare him off? $advancepresent[Thibault returned, rope ladder cradled in his arms. “Thank you for your candor.” He dropped the bundle. It unfurled as it fell. As his benefactor stepped away from the pit once more, Lysander began his climb. The rope was rough against his fingers, and the ladder wobbled awkwardly, but a minute later, he’d crested the rim. $advancepresent[He was free. $advancepresent[Finally, finally free. $advancepresent[Lysander gave a choked sob of relief. Thibault stood a few yards away, still studying him. $advancepresent[“Thank you,” Lysander said, composing himself. “Thibault—I—I didn’t think anyone would really help me. Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” he replied. $advancepresent[There was an uncomfortable beat of silence. $advancepresent[“I guess, uh, I’ll be going, then?” Lysander asked. “The sun will be up soon.” “You could come with me,” Thibault said. “I have a safe place nearby. A shrine.” “A shrine?” Lysander asked. “But the only shrines around here are—wait. Are you—are you a—” $advancepresent[“A Disciple of Radiance Inviolate?” Thibault snorted. “Kind of. The same way that I’m kind of a Tennebrin. The dorries find me heretical. But I don’t see many of them actually tending to the shrines these days. A holy place should not play host to hatred.” “You’re a Tennebrin? But—” Lysander was confused. “I don’t understand. I trust you. You saved me. There isn’t much time, I—can you help me understand?” $advancepresent[Thibault sighed. “I have a blood curse. A few Tennebrins each generation receive this corruption. I was lucky to reach adulthood. My parents sent me away to the Disciples, hoping a course of spiritual enlightenment might cure me. I came to my own understanding—that the sun is honest. And beautiful. It rises. It sets. It never deviates from its path, dancing an infinite analemma. It *is* Radiance Inviolate. But it doesn’t care about vampires or fiends or devils or even its own disciples. And it certainly doesn’t care about me.” $advancepresent[What could Lysander possibly say to that? $advancepresent[Thibault’s expression softened. “I prioritize my own safety. That’s why I asked all those questions. But, Lysander, you were honest. You mean well. If you want to rest safely in a shrine to the sun, you should be able to do that. You wouldn’t be the first vampire I’ve harbored.” $advancepresent[It was a lot for Lysander to process. $advancepresent[But he made his choice. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Accept. ⇒->L7BBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Decline. ⇒->L7BBAB. Decline]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Vintopol Outskirts.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">“Serge,” Lysander said, his darkest memories seething at the edges of his mind. “Serge Tennebrin.” $advancepresent[Thibault watched him pace. “That’s the one.” “Why did he do it?” he asked. “Why did he kill me?” “He had it out for René. Didn’t like his philandering. Serge cares a lot about the bloodline. Bleak stuff.” $advancepresent[“What, so he just—he just murders anyone that man is sweet on?” Lysander ran his fingers through his hair. “What a nightmare.” “You weren’t the only one,” Thibault said. “Though only you came back.” “And now he’s a dorrie?” “The worst I know.” $advancepresent[A soft wind filtered through the clearing. Lysander heard the mirrors clinking in the distance. $advancepresent[“You knew about this pit,” Lysander said. “This whole time, you knew about this death trap.” “Yes.” “And you did nothing about it? Nothing to stop him from killing vampires, night after night after night?” $advancepresent[“That’s not fair.” Thibault folded his arms. “These are dangerous times. I have to put my own safety first. I check the pit when I can. Help the ones who can be helped. Leave the rest. That’s how my blood got in there.” “It should be dismantled,” Lysander said. “I don’t care whether you think some of us can’t be helped. It shouldn’t be up to you. That man killed me. He almost killed me again. And he’s killed so many others. He should face justice for what he’s done.” Thibault was quiet for a while, considering the vampire’s words. $advancepresent[Finally, he spoke. “If you want to kill him—if that’s your justice, your vengeance, your closure—I won’t stop you. Serge is awful. He is the worst person I’ve ever met, and horrible people are legion.” He sighed. “Even so, he is still my cousin. I won’t mourn him. But, I don’t want to be there for it. I’ll check back another night, if you’re still around.” “What’s the alternative?” Lysander asked. “If I don’t care about vengeance, what else is there?” “Come with me,” Thibault said. “I have a safe place nearby. There’s always tomorrow night.” $advancepresent[The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[“He’ll be here soon,” Thibault said. “He always checks near dawn. He likes to watch.” “Of course he does,” Lysander muttered. It would be a narrow window of opportunity, but vengeance was his for the taking. He only had to reach for it. $advancepresent[Was that truly what he wanted? $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Take vengeance. ⇒->L7CAA. Vengeance]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Leave it behind. ⇒->L7CAB. Leave]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Footsteps, too, approached. “Thibault? Is that you?” Lysander asked, ceasing his anxious pacing. “It is.” The now familiar angular face peered down from the rim of the pit. Thibault surveyed the vampire for a few more moments. $advancepresent[“I have a rope ladder,” he said, finally. “I tied it around a tree. Before I send it down, I have one more question.” Doubt prickled Lysander’s skin. Had the reality of allowing a self-admitted vampire come near him finally settled in? “What is it?” Lysander asked. $advancepresent[“You must control yourself.” Thibault’s firm voice hung over the pit. “Do you promise not to bite me, until or unless I give you permission?” “Yes,” Lysander said quickly. Thibault stared down at him, impassive. $advancepresent[“Yes,” Lysander said again. “I—I know it’s scary, to be around a vampire. And I—yes, I am hungry. But I wouldn’t do that. Hurt someone who was trying to help me. I promise.” “I see.” Thibault stepped away from the edge. $advancepresent[Lysander waited another agonizing moment. Was this it? Had he at last said the thing that would scare him off? $advancepresent[Thibault returned, rope ladder cradled in his arms. “Thank you for your candor.” He dropped the bundle. It unfurled as it fell. As his benefactor stepped away from the pit once more, Lysander began his climb. The rope was rough against his fingers, and the ladder wobbled awkwardly, but a minute later, he’d crested the rim. He was free. $advancepresent[Finally, finally free. $advancepresent[Lysander gave a choked sob of relief. Thibault stood a few yards away, still studying him. $advancepresent[“Thank you,” Lysander said, composing himself. “Thibault—I—I didn’t think anyone would really help me. Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” he replied. $advancepresent[There was an uncomfortable beat of silence. $advancepresent[“I guess, uh, I’ll be going, then?” Lysander asked. “The sun will be up soon.” “You could come with me,” Thibault said. “I have a safe place nearby. A shrine.” “A shrine?” Lysander asked. “But the only shrines around here are—wait. Are you—are you a—” $advancepresent[“A Disciple of Radiance Inviolate?” Thibault snorted. “Kind of. The same way that I’m kind of a Tennebrin. The dorries find me heretical. But I don’t see many of them actually tending to the shrines these days. A holy place should not play host to hatred.” “You’re a Tennebrin? But—” Lysander was confused. “I don’t understand. I trust you. You saved me. There isn’t much time, I—can you help me understand?” $advancepresent[Thibault sighed. “I have a blood curse. A few Tennebrins each generation receive this corruption. I was lucky to reach adulthood. My parents sent me away to the Disciples, hoping a course of spiritual enlightenment might cure me. I came to my own understanding—that the sun is honest. And beautiful. It rises. It sets. It never deviates from its path, dancing an infinite analemma. It *is* Radiance Inviolate. But it doesn’t care about vampires or fiends or devils or even its own disciples. And it certainly doesn’t care about me.” $advancepresent[What could Lysander possibly say to that? $advancepresent[Thibault’s expression softened. “I prioritize my own safety. That’s why I asked all those questions. But, Lysander, you were honest. You mean well. If you want to rest safely in a shrine to the sun, you should be able to do that. You wouldn’t be the first vampire I’ve harbored.” $advancepresent[It was a lot for Lysander to process. $advancepresent[But he made his choice. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Accept. ⇒->L7CBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Decline. ⇒->L7CBAB. Decline]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Everything Lysander needed to escape had been there from the start. But now— $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[He tore strip after strip from his coat, putting as much fabric as possible between heartwood and undead flesh. He pried each stake from its housing, discarding the brittle and sparing the sturdy. But it was too slow. He’d wasted precious time begging for help. It was true that Lysander had lied. Why did some random man get to decide that made him unworthy of existence? Couldn’t he understand why a terrified person might lie in such a desperate situation? $advancepresent[Footsteps echoed through the still air. He looked up. “Hello? Are you—are you back to help me?” It couldn’t be. Dare he hope that the man had changed his mind? The footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed. $advancepresent[A man draped in sickly yellow robes appeared overhead. Lysander’s stomach dropped, gut ceasing its moans for blood long enough to curdle. It was unmistakable; the garb befitting a Disciple of Radiance Inviolate. $advancepresent[“Dead flesh ought not speak out of turn.” The dorrie’s voice carried across the hollow. $advancepresent[Lysander squinted up at his face. Those features were familiar. Straw-colored hair. Thin lips. Hateful, loathsome eyes. He knew that face. “It’s *you*,” Lysander said. “With the crossbow. You shot me! You left me—you left me to die!” $advancepresent[The Disciple peered over, and—recognizing Lysander—gave a sudden peal of laughter, bright like brass bells. “So I did.” “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Lysander demanded. “For your—your crimes?! You just—what, go to weddings and murder whoever it is you don’t like? Build death traps for vampires?” His killer gazed down from above. “Dawn is imminent. Can’t you feel it—the rising of the light? Won’t it be a beautiful morning?” $advancepresent[Lysander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I did *nothing* to you. I don’t even *know* you. You ruined my life. You ruined everything. Why?” “Things that rot should be discarded.” $advancepresent[Birds chirped in the distance. $advancepresent[“So what, you’re here to watch?” Lysander asked. “Smite what you fear, and get off on it, too?” “The sun will judge us both,” the dorrie proclaimed. “And which of us, pray tell, will be found lacking? Radiance Inviolate’s most loyal disciple? Or grave dust that deludes itself a person?” $advancepresent[Lysander’s rage and panic built in tandem. $advancepresent[No—this couldn’t happen. $advancepresent[Not again. Not ever, ever again. $advancepresent[He had to stop it. $advancepresent[He had to do something. $advancepresent[Anything. $advancepresent[What could he do? $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7CBBB. Unleash]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander had worn his voice hoarse shouting for help, but no one had answered his calls. Was this all that remained? Facing the dawn exhausted and alone? Shivering, he hugged his coat around himself. Something glinted in one of the pockets. He pulled it out. $advancepresent[ <div class="gannethilcard">(text-size: 1.6)[**GANNETHIL**] Attorney at Claw Public Defender | Infernal Advocate In Absentia Limited Availability</div> $advancepresent[“Did it say that before?” he muttered. The card’s golden ink glittered mysteriously. $advancepresent[Lysander gave a wan smile, remembering their odd but intriguing encounter at Chthontemps. Had he known just how close everything had been to the precipice… the things he would’ve done. Despite the hushed chill that had settled over the pit, the paper felt warm. “Gannethil?” he whispered. “Are you there? I need help. I need... you. I *really* need you. Please.” Nothing happened. $advancepresent[At first. $advancepresent[Out of the still night air burst a gout of violet flame that stank of brimstone, charring several of the scattered wooden spikes as it flared. Lysander shrieked and fell backward. There stood Gannethil, fresh scratches across his face, eyes ablaze with hellfire, suit ripped and torn and stained. A sinister sight. But alive. $advancepresent[And grinning. $advancepresent[“My goodness, Lysander,” Gannethil said. “I hardly expected *you* to scream when you saw me.” He extended his hand. Lysander grasped it, letting the devil guide him back to his feet. “You’re alive! You escaped. I’m so, I’m so—” He was barely holding in tears. $advancepresent[“Hey,” Gannethil said, voice suddenly soft as he rested a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.” He looked around. “What even is this place? You know what, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. How are *you*? Do you need blood?” “Yes,” Lysander said. “Please—it’s been so long—” $advancepresent[“By all means.” Gannethil offered his neck. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the devil’s tie to pull himself close, sinking his fangs into lavender skin. Gannethil let out a sharp gasp, but held fast as the vampire drank. $advancepresent[Heat. $advancepresent[Blissful heat. $advancepresent[Blistering heat. $advancepresent[Lysander coughed as the demon’s ichor scorched the back of his throat, but gulped it nonetheless, fire flooding from his gut to his extremities. He detached from Gannethil, wishing to stay close, but releasing him nonetheless. “Not exactly the fantasy I envisioned,” the devil said, attending to his wound with a prim handkerchief. “But I don’t hate it. We can unpack that later.” “Thank you,” Lysander said dreamily, his vision sharper, the world brighter than it had been for weeks. $advancepresent[“Let’s get out of here before the sun rises, yeah?” “Yeah.” $advancepresent[Gannethil wrapped his arms around Lysander. $advancepresent[In another flash of hellfire, they departed for darker hollows. $advancepresent[Together. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#8351a6")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->L8ABA. Gannethil]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander had attacked the seam mercilessly with the wrapped stake. He’d scraped and scraped, producing a modest pile of crumbling dried mud. But despite his efforts—despite giving more to the task than he could spare to give—all he’d accomplished was digging a trench a few inches deep. If that. $advancepresent[He could climb in, try to lie still beneath the slightest overhang, but it wasn’t going to work. There wasn’t even enough loose dirt to bury himself. Something fluttered out from his jacket pocket, glinting where it landed. Lysander picked it up. $advancepresent[ <div class="gannethilcard">(text-size: 1.6)[**GANNETHIL**] Attorney at Claw Public Defender | Infernal Advocate In Absentia Limited Availability</div> $advancepresent[“Did it say that before?” he muttered. The card’s golden ink glittered mysteriously. Lysander gave a wan smile, remembering their odd but intriguing encounter at Chthontemps. Had he known just how close everything had been to the precipice… the things he would’ve done. Despite the hushed chill that had settled over the pit, the paper felt warm. “Gannethil?” he whispered. “Are you there? I need help. I need... you. I *really* need you. Please.” Nothing happened. $advancepresent[At first. $advancepresent[Out of the still night air burst a gout of violet flame that stank of brimstone, charring several of the scattered wooden spikes as it flared. Lysander shrieked and fell backward. There stood Gannethil, fresh scratches across his face, eyes ablaze with hellfire, suit ripped and torn and stained. A sinister sight. But alive. $advancepresent[And grinning. $advancepresent[“My goodness, Lysander,” Gannethil said. “I hardly expected *you* to scream when you saw me.” He extended his hand. Lysander grasped it, letting the devil guide him back to his feet, and scattering dirt everywhere. “You’re alive! You escaped. I’m so, I’m so—” He was barely holding in tears. $advancepresent[“Hey,” Gannethil said, voice suddenly soft as he rested a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.” He looked around. “What even is this place? You know what, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. How are *you*? You’re filthy. Uh, sorry. But it *is* the truth. Do you need blood?” “Yes,” Lysander said. “Please—it’s been so long—” $advancepresent[“By all means.” Gannethil offered his neck. $advancepresent[Lysander grabbed the devil’s tie to pull himself close, sinking his fangs into lavender skin. Gannethil let out a sharp gasp, but held fast as the vampire drank. $advancepresent[Heat. $advancepresent[Blissful heat. $advancepresent[Blistering heat. $advancepresent[Lysander coughed as the demon’s ichor scorched the back of his throat, but gulped it nonetheless, fire flooding from his gut to his extremities. He detached from Gannethil, wishing to stay close, but releasing him nonetheless. $advancepresent[“Not exactly the fantasy I envisioned,” the devil said, attending to his wound with a prim handkerchief. “But I don’t hate it. We can unpack that later.” “Thank you,” Lysander said dreamily, his vision sharper, the world brighter than it had been for weeks. $advancepresent[“Let’s get out of here before the sun rises, yeah?” “Yeah.” Gannethil wrapped his arms around Lysander. $advancepresent[In another flash of hellfire, they departed for darker hollows. $advancepresent[Together. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#8351a6")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->L8BAA. Gannethil]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Pitfall.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">The sky had grown noticeably lighter. $advancepresent[Dawn approached. $advancepresent[Lysander had attacked the seam mercilessly with the wrapped stake. He’d scraped and scraped, producing a modest pile of crumbling dried mud. But despite his efforts—despite giving more to the task than he could spare to give—all he’d accomplished was digging a trench a few inches deep. $advancepresent[If that. $advancepresent[He could climb in, try to lie still beneath the slightest overhang, but it wasn’t going to work. There wasn’t even enough loose dirt to bury himself. $advancepresent[Lysander heard footsteps echo through the still air. $advancepresent[It couldn’t be Gannethil—could it? Dare he dream of diabolus ex machina? $advancepresent[He looked up. “Hello? Is someone there?” $advancepresent[The footsteps stopped for a moment, then resumed. $advancepresent[A man draped in sickly yellow robes appeared overhead. Lysander’s stomach dropped, gut ceasing its moans for blood long enough to curdle. It was unmistakable; the garb befitting a Disciple of Radiance Inviolate. $advancepresent[“Dead flesh ought not speak out of turn.” The dorrie’s voice carried across the hollow. $advancepresent[Lysander squinted up at his face. Those features were familiar. Straw-colored hair. Thin lips. Hateful, loathsome eyes. He knew that face. “It’s *you*,” Lysander said. “With the crossbow. You shot me! You left me—you left me to die!” $advancepresent[The Disciple peered over, and—recognizing Lysander—gave a sudden peal of laughter, bright like brass bells. “So I did.” “Well? Anything to say for yourself?” Lysander demanded. “For your—your crimes?! You just—what, go to weddings and murder whoever it is you don’t like? Build death traps for vampires?” His killer gazed down from above. “Dawn is imminent. Can’t you feel it—the rising of the light? Won’t it be a beautiful morning?” $advancepresent[Lysander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I did *nothing* to you. I don’t even *know* you. You ruined my life. You ruined everything. Why?” “Things that rot should be discarded.” $advancepresent[Birds chirped in the distance. $advancepresent[“So what, you’re here to watch?” Lysander asked. “Smite what you fear, and get off on it, too?” “The sun will judge us both,” the dorrie proclaimed. “And which of us, pray tell, will be found lacking? Radiance Inviolate’s most loyal disciple? Or grave dust that deludes itself a person?” $advancepresent[Lysander’s rage and panic built in tandem. $advancepresent[No—this couldn’t happen. $advancepresent[Not again. Not ever, ever again. $advancepresent[He had to stop it. $advancepresent[He had to do something. $advancepresent[Anything. $advancepresent[What could he do? $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BABB. Unleash]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#a67dd1)[Diabolus ex Machina] Lysander escaped dawn in the arms of radiance in violet.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to accept Gannethil’s card. How romantic. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#a67dd1)[Diabolus ex Machina] Lysander escaped dawn in the arms of radiance in violet.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to accept Gannethil’s card. How romantic. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size: 3)[VII.] (text-size: 1.15)[Blue Hour | Vintopol Outskirts.]</div> <div class="lightpresentpsg">“I’ll go with you,” Lysander decided. “He’s not worth it. I still don’t yet know what it is that I want, but I know this much. I don’t want that.” $advancepresent[“I’m glad.” Thibault smiled. “So what is this place? Where are we going?” $advancepresent[“A shrine. It’s sparse, but it’s safe. You’ll be welcome.” “A shrine?” Lysander asked. “But the only shrines around here are—wait. Don’t tell me. Are you a *dorrie*?” $advancepresent[“Kind of.” Thibault looked amused. “The same way that I’m kind of a Tennebrin. The dorries find me heretical. But I don’t see many of them actually tending to the shrines these days. A holy place should not play host to hatred.” “So you’re basically a Tennebrin, basically a dorrie, and you—what, harbor stray vampires in a shrine to the sun?” He gave a sharp, strained kind of laugh. “Help me understand.” $advancepresent[Thibault sighed. “I have a blood curse. The curse Serge is so fixated on. A few Tennebrins each generation receive this corruption. How lucky. My parents sent me away to the Disciples, hoping a course of spiritual enlightenment might cure me. But I came to my own understanding; that the sun is honest. And beautiful. It rises. It sets. It never deviates from its path, dancing an infinite analemma. It *is* Radiance Inviolate.” He paused, searching for the right way to explain it. $advancepresent[“Look, you’re a vampire. From your perspective, the sun must seem like it really *does* hate you. But I don’t think so. I don’t think it cares about anything at all—vampires or devils or fiends or even its own disciples. And it certainly doesn’t care about me. So if I want to harbor stray vampires in a shrine to the sun, I’m not going to let any of that other nonsense stop me.” $advancepresent[What could Lysander even say to that? $advancepresent[Thibault’s expression softened. “Look. It’s not far, but time is short. You should bite me.” “Bite you?” Lysander asked, incredulous. “After all that you did to talk me down?” $advancepresent[“Yes. It’ll be fine. Because, well…” Thibault gave him a pained expression for a few moments. “I taste bad. Okay?” “You—you taste bad?” “To vampires. My blood tastes disgusting.” Lysander wanted to laugh. But Thibault looked genuinely embarrassed, so he held it back. $advancepresent[“The worst thing a vampire can do, that *only* a vampire can do, is lose themselves to bloodthirst,” Thibault said. “Take too much. Kill someone who doesn’t deserve it. Someone who was trying to be kind. But, I don’t have that problem because… I taste bad.” He peeled back his cloak, then unbuttoned the top of a gray undershirt. Lysander could see yellow-tinged bruises scattered across his chest and neck. Bite scars. $advancepresent[“They call me—” Thibault began, voice halting. “They call me a meal of last resort. My cursed blood, useful for once.” “You smell… fine,” Lysander said, a clumsy attempt at reassurance. “If you say so,” Thibault said. “Take a drink. This side.” He motioned to the left with his head. “Don’t drink too much. But… you won’t want to.” $advancepresent[Lysander approached, cautiously at first, then more confidently as Thibault nodded. He sank fangs into flesh, feeling the man tense first before relaxing. $advancepresent[Oh, to drink blood— $advancepresent[Sweet blood— $advancepresent[Blissful— $advancepresent[Bitterness puckered his lips as the blood’s swampy foulness mired his tongue. Metallic overtones ricocheted in Lysander’s gut, hot and harsh. He reeled, releasing Thibault as he stepped back. Thibault grimaced, dabbing the fresh wounds. “Told you.” “Thank you,” Lysander said, warm at last. “I really needed that. Thank you.” “Let’s get going,” Thibault said, indicating the direction. $advancepresent[The awful taste lingered, but Lysander smiled, following him into the forest beyond. $advancepresent[<div class="lightchoicepresentpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")+(link-style:(text-color:#c77b1c)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#d1271b")))[[[Dawn. ⇒->L8CAB. Meal]]]</div>]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to climb. Again. How stubborn. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7AAB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to climb. Again. How stubborn. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7AAB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to climb. Again. How stubborn. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7AAB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to climb. Again. How stubborn. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7AAA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7AAB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7ABBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7ABBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7ABBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to climb the walls of the pit. How impulsive. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at climbing. ⇒->L5AA. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5AB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6ABA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6ABB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7ABBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7ABBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BABB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BABB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BABB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. Again. How filthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VI.] In Part VI, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L6BAA. Past]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L6BAB. Past]]]</div> You chose for him to decline Gannethil’s card. How heartbreaking. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BABA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BABB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#e25c00)[A Meal of Last Resort] Lysander escaped dawn with an improbable ally and a full belly.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to admit the truth that he was a vampire. How courageous. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L7BBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L7BBAB. Decline]]] </div> You chose for him to accept the help he was offered. How gracious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#432cf5)[Thirteenth Night] Lysander survived dawn, cold and alone.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to admit the truth that he was a vampire. How courageous. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L7BBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L7BBAB. Decline]]] </div> You chose for him to decline the help he was offered. How melancholy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to dig. How earthy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persist at digging. ⇒->L5BA. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5BB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5BBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5BBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7BBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7BBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#e25c00)[A Meal of Last Resort] Lysander escaped dawn with an improbable ally and a full belly.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to enact a well-considered plan. How judicious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Take vengeance. ⇒->L7CAA. Vengeance]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Leave it behind. ⇒->L7CAB. Leave]]] </div> You chose for him to abandon his dreams of retribution. How optimistic. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#e25c00)[A Meal of Last Resort] Lysander escaped dawn with an improbable ally and a full belly.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to admit the truth that he was a vampire. How courageous. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L7CBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L7CBAB. Decline]]] </div> You chose for him to accept the help he was offered. How gracious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#432cf5)[Thirteenth Night] Lysander survived dawn, cold and alone.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to admit the truth that he was a vampire. How courageous. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Accept. ⇒->L7CBAA. Accept]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Decline. ⇒->L7CBAB. Decline]]] </div> You chose for him to decline the help he was offered. How melancholy. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7CBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7CBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to persuade an obdurate zealot. How hopeless. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#7b7b7b)[Abandonment] Lysander faced the cruel dawn and you weren’t even there.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7CBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander would have faced Radiance Inviolate. Instead of accepting that, you fled to the title screen, spiting Death. How meta.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. Really. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ffb500)[Radiance Inviolate] Lysander faced the dawn and perished in its light.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to call for help. How brave. After that, Lysander faced these additional choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[“Yes.” ⇒->L5CBA. Truth]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[“No.” ⇒->L5CBB. Lie]]] </div> You chose for him to lie about being a vampire. How cagey. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Persuade. ⇒->L7CBBA. Persuade]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Unleash. ⇒->L7CBBB. Unleash]]] </div> You chose for him to unleash the last of his rage. How cleansing. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#ad1200)[Vengeance, Bitter Vengeance] Lysander and Serge faced dawn and perished together.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to enact a well-considered plan. How judicious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Take vengeance. ⇒->L7CAA. Vengeance]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Leave it behind. ⇒->L7CAB. Leave]]] </div> You chose for him to seek revenge. How brutal. After that, Lysander faced a climactic decision: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Bite. ⇒->L7CAAA. Bite]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Shove. ⇒->L7CAAB. Shove]]] </div> You chose for him to drink every last drop. How bloody. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]

(replace: ?Sidebar)[](set: $advancepresent to (link:"⧨ ⧨")+(link-style:(text-color:#87656b)+(hover-style:(text-color:"#e4092e")))+(t8n: "dissolve"))(text-size:3)+(after: 1s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[ — Ending —] (after: 3s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[<div class="lightendpsg">(text-size: 1.15)+(text-color:#c62d5b)[Vengeance, Sweet Vengeance] Lysander took bloody revenge and fled dawn with a full belly.</div>] (after: 6s)+(t8n:"dissolve")[$advancepresent[(text-size:3)[ — Map —] <div class="lightendpsg">(text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[III.] In Part III, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Climb. ⇒->L3A. Climb]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Dig. ⇒->L3B. Dig]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Wait. ⇒->L3C. Wait]]] </div> You chose for him to take his time. How prudent. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[V.] In Part V, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Raise the stakes. ⇒->L5CA. Stake]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Call for help. ⇒->L5CB. Call]]] </div> You chose for him to enact a well-considered plan. How judicious. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[VII.] In Part VII, Lysander faced these choices: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Take vengeance. ⇒->L7CAA. Vengeance]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Leave it behind. ⇒->L7CAB. Leave]]] </div> You chose for him to seek revenge. How brutal. After that, Lysander faced a climactic decision: <div class="lightchoiceendpsg">(t8n: "dissolve")[[[Bite. ⇒->L7CAAA. Bite]]] (t8n: "dissolve")[[[Shove. ⇒->L7CAAB. Shove]]] </div> You chose for him to doom his mortal foe to die alone. How poetic. (text-size:2)+(text-color:#c77b1c)[End.] As per your choices, Lysander arrived at this fate. Embrace it, or seek another.</div> [[⇐ Return to Title. ->Title Light]]]]