Arc 3: All That Glisters (Part 6)

Though I’ve been coasting quite well through my second run at being a newborn (and I now realise that, though I have the mental fortitude of a vampire of three decades, there are still certain physical indications that my body is still new to immortality), Scintilla can’t seem to say the same. I remember her as a mentor figure, a beloved older sister that guided me through those early, tumultuous years of my unlife.

She went with me hunting well past my newborn months, regardless of the many duties Canus had tasked her with, citing her position as the eldest as justification for granting her the dubious honour. She stayed with me during the nights that I wanted nothing else but to bury myself in the back garden to get away from all the noise, all the light of London at night. It wouldn’t even be wrong to speak of her as a motherly figure, as opposed to a sisterly one.

Now, however…

‘How did you do that?’ she asks me one night as she practises calling forth her witchlights and I prac