"Febronia, this is my blood which is life and a curse all in one. Whoever drinks this will first pass through the transition from life to death. Then, they will posses immortality. You told me immortality was not for you, my sweet child, and so you are the one I have chosen to be the harbinger of my dark blood. Allow it to pass down through your family to the third generation. Then, they may do whatever they choose." Januarius whispers in her ear.

He reaches into one of the purses hanging from his belt and pulls out a black velvet bag with a leather cord and hands it to her. "After you have read the inscription on the bottle place it in the bag. There is a note within and you may read it if it is your will. This shall be the last time that I will see you, sweet child, for it is my time to move on. Beware; let no one know you have talked to me for they shall swear by all the names that are holy that your blood has been tainted. "Remember that I shall always love you." Another streak of lightning flashes and burns his figure into the back of Febronia's retinas. When her vision clears he is no longer in front of her, but is becoming a shadow against a darker shadow.
He's not even gone a few moments and I already miss his beautiful blue eyes and his sweet touch already she thinks. She holds up the bottle and reads the inscription on the front:


Januarius Cauchon

July 7, 1583

She turns the bottle around and reads the back:

For the lover of immortality. However, beware

for immortality is truly a curse. It is not what

it appears. It is not eternal youth and love

without a price. It brings eternal despair and

unhappiness. For immortality brings with it an

insatiable thirst and death. It breaks the veil of

the spirit realm and causes fear of the sun.

Yet it is still possible to die by sun, fire, and

dismemberment. This is the true curse of immortality,
the curse that this dark blood brings with it. Thus

it is written upon this day in the year of my lord.

July 7, 1583


She now truly knows the power of the object that she holds in her hands. She cradles it close to her heart and the tears that she has been holding burst forth. Standing there crying she hears the thunder rolling as if the Gods were playing on drums of primeval origin.
"I'll never see him again, and this.... this bottle of blood, his tainted blood, is all that I have left of him except for my memories. I swear by my love for him neither shall leave me till my dying day, nor even then." She utters to the Gods and to herself.

She turns around and as she starts to go into the house she remembers the note in the bag. She kneels in the doorway and sets the candle and the bottle on the floor. She reaches in the bag and pulls out a piece of parchment. She unties the velvet ribbon from around it and unfurls it. She sees his sigil, a triangular Celtic knot with a wolf baring its fangs in its center, at the top. Her eyes then move down to his fancy curlicued calligraphy and she reads it by the dim candlelight.



Beware for upon this bottle is a curse, the curse that

immortality brings with it. The man, who chooses to
drink, should know that it is the beginning of an end.

For, in the end he will be the prey and not the hunter

he becomes. Allow this bottle of precious life to become

stronger for three generation. For if not, beware of your
folly.

Januarius Cauchon



She takes the parchment and rolls it up, reties the ribbon, and places it back in the bag. She picks up the bottle and her hand is numbed by the icy feel of the bottle. She kisses it and wishes her lover luck and carefully places it in the bag beside the note. She cradles the bag next to her bosom. Silently so as not to awaken anyone, she climbs the stairs and opens the door.


Upon entering her room, she sets the candle on the bureau and opens a drawer. She places the velvet bag in a back compartment and closes it back. She blows out the candle and slips in between the black satin sheets of her four poster bed and quickly falls into a peaceful slumber.