Prologue ((the she))

After so many years I'm finally back, again connected to the world, even though the world has changed.

It was about few years ago, some months after my resurrection, I realized the community of the undead had changed somehow, into something rather positive.

A new law has been introduced, called "the Masquerade". Under this law, vampires can no longer make themselves be known to mortals. Well, that's good.

And vampires, like the past, were still divided into clans, while now there are more clans and kindred are mostly under the wings of the Camarilla. The Sabbat and Anarchs still live. Yet a new name is heard as well, Kuei-Jin, the Asian brethren, if, they shall be considered as our kind.

New names are heard among the powerful ones. Like the Prince Sebastian LaCroix and the Anarchs leader Nines Rodrigues. Later a new name is heard as well – Daniel, a young one, yet I sensed him having a full potential to become a strong one some day; his name just grew louder among the undead each time after accomplishing a task.

Their political games never did intrigue my interest; not until the name "Ankaran Sarcophagus" appeared almost everywhere.

Kin and kindreds were then doing their best to be the first to obtain it.

Then all of the sudden, the wind went still, Ankaran Sarcophagus became myth once more; and the Camarilla seemed to have come as history.

Slowly the rumor spread that LaCroix was no longer in his office. Was he dead? Kidnapped? Or something else? Then another rumor came that Ming-Xiao, leader of the Kuei-Jin, is the one sitting behind the desk at the Venture Tower, controlling the entire vampire community.

Perhaps there was a fight between LaCriox and Xiao over the sarcophagus, and LaCroix lost, the power then went to Xiao. What ever the case is, I couldn't and wouldn't care.

Not until one night, when I was walking alone at the Santa Monica Beach, on the Pier, I sensed another vampire, young one, trapped under the water, near death's door.

Without thinking twice I dove. When I finally found him, he was there leaning at the lost sarcophagus. Ropes were loosened as time gone by, yet he had no strength to swim back to the surface.

I lifted him. As soon as he felt my touch, he said, "Ming-Xiao! Traitor!" then fainted.

I brought him back to my mansion on the Hollywood Hill and took great care of him. Though politics is not my cup of tea, I'm rather interested in the story behind the whole thing. And I believed he could satisfy my curiosity.

Some nights later, he woke up, asking me as I entered the room with a few more blood packs, "Who are you?"

"You must be Daniel. Yes, I've heard of your name, but you've never heard of me."

"How did you know my name?"

I smiled, "So it's you indeed. I wasn't sure if Daniel is your name until you asked me that question."

"You're a Malkavian? No. You're a Toreador." He sat up on his bed.

"I'm neither."