The shopkeeper bid Florence good day as she left the store, a few books tucked underneath one arm. The cold wind hit her face as she exited, greeting her like an unwanted guest, and she wrapped her cloak tighter around her.

Earlier the nurse had given her money, which Florence had kindly rejected at first. However, the young woman had insisted that she take it. "A little Christmas generosity" she had called it.

Walking through town, Florence smiled as she recalled how kind-hearted the nurse had been. She'd fixed all her clothes, treated her wounds, given her food, and provided her with money and medicine to help dull the pain upon her farewell. Even after buying the books, she still had quite a bit of money left over, and Florence found herself unsure of just how to use it.

She eventually stopped after a bit of walking and looked up at the sky, watching the snowflakes drift down. Slowly, she extended one gloved hand and moved it in a small circle. Immediately, the embroidered pale blue symbols on both her white gloves seemed to glow. It wasn't a very bright illumination, just dim enough so that one would only notice the glow if they looked hard enough. Before long, the snowflakes around her hand followed the movements of her fingertips no matter what pattern she traced in the open air: circle, straight line, zigzag, anything. They only fell back towards the ground when the glowing ceased as she closed her fist and lowered her hand.

She'd first found out she had this strange ability earlier that day. She had been passing by a group of children throwing snowballs at each other, when one of the boys suddenly missed his target, sending his snowball flying straight at her. She'd had only a couple seconds before she suddenly realized what was happening and upon finally doing so immediately shielded her face with her hands. Upon realizing that the snowball hadn't hit her, she looked up just in time to notice the glow on her gloves and see the snowball bounce back the way it came, hitting the kid who had thrown it square in the face. Afterwards she had tried to manipulate some of the falling snow after taking her gloves off only to find out that it didn't work.

So the gloves gave her magical powers… Turning her hand over to look at her palm, Florence stared at the blue embroidery lines that zigzagged and twirled in the white fabric as unpredictably as the wind. The nurse was right: The gloves were pretty.

'I wonder…' Florence said to herself, mumbling under her breath. '...are there others like me?'

"Pardon me, Miss."

Florence turned in the direction of the voice she had heard to see a well-dressed gentleman with a bushy moustache standing outside the door to a shop.

"I couldn't help but notice your attire," the man continued. "It's much too cold out to be wearing a sleeveless dress at this time of year." Smiling, he gestured towards the shop's window. "Would you care to try on one of our dresses?"

Florence glanced at the shop's window. There, hanging in the window for all to see, was a long-sleeved gown. The skirt was flowing and dark green, white the rest of the upper body was pure white. Smiling, she turned to face the gentleman again.

"Thank you for the offer, sir," she said. "But I'm sure I'll be quite alright."

The man frowned at her reply and cocked his head curiously. "But you could get dreadfully sick."

Florence only gave a small laugh and continued to smile. "Really, I'm fine. The cold doesn't bother me one bit. Thank you, though."

The man said nothing as Florence continued on her way. He didn't know it, but what Florence had said to him had been the truth. The cold didn't bother her. Despite her attire, she didn't feel cold in the slightest.

She continued walking through the town, listening to all the sounds around her. There were people singing carols, folks chatting happily with each other, and a horse or two trotting through the streets. Somewhere, the sound of church bells resonated in the air. Everyone seemed to have a smile on their face. There was a feeling of immense joy in the air, and Florence couldn't help but smile along with them.

But her face suddenly fell when she looked down to see two little children, a boy and a girl, huddled together on the ground beside a bakery. Their clothes were torn and clearly too small for them. Their faces were dirty and their blond hair was unkempt. The boy had one arm around the girl, holding her as they both shivered, while holding a small cup in his other ungloved hand.

Peering into the little boy's cup, Florence's eyes widened upon seeing that there were only a couple coins in it. This was unspeakable! Why was no one giving these poor, suffering children money? They clearly needed it more than anyone walking through the streets! Slowly, she reached for her bag of money, and upon untying it poured most of her remaining money into the cup.

The little boy's eyes lit up instantly as the coins clattered into the cup, and for a moment he stared at Florence, completely speechless. But soon, an overjoyed smile curled his lips.

"Th-th-...Thank you…" he said through chattering teeth.

Florence smiled at the little boy, and her grin widened when the little girl shuffled over to her and wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug.

"...M-merry C-Christmas," the girl said as she pulled away, a timid smile on her face.

Florence continued smiling and waved at the two children as they hurried inside the bakery. But as she stood up and began to walk away, something in the nearby alleyway caught her eye:

There were multiple drops of red on the snow, as well as some on the wall.

Immediately, she felt an intense heat flare up in her chest; the fire quickly spreading throughout the rest of her body. The agonizing pain made Florence nearly drop her books and double over, but she managed to stay upright clutched her chest tightly. She suddenly recalled everything about the attack that happened the night before: the slashes, the bite, the appearance of her attacked, and finally the glowing red shard.

Not wanting to look at the site anymore, Florence hastily collected herself and turned away. But even as she walked away, there was one aspect of the fight that perplexed her. Her attacker had bitten her neck and drank her blood. Was he a vampire?

Slowly, Florence reached up with her free hand and touched the side of her neck. Immediately, she felt a bandage, indicating that the nurse had attempted to treat it.

Now she was beginning to get confused. Why was this vampire having her, of all people, seek out this man he was searching for?

But that question quickly left Florence's mind as she suddenly realized something: She knew where to go. She felt as if she was now connected with someone; that there was some sort of link between the two of them.

Whether she was now connected with her attacker or the man she was supposed to find, she did not know. But what she did know now was the exact direction to head in order to get to Romania.