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The doors swung open to reveal a dining hall. This was, in itself, not impressive, but for someone to whom the grandeur of the manor was prohibited, the experience of knowing this was within a scant few meters and completely out of reach was a revelation to Isabelle. She stood stunned in the doorway as the details of the space registered in her consciousness, despite the darkness. The only light entering the hall came in through the entry in which the two vampires stood. This was hardly a problem, however. Being nocturnal and preternatural creatures, their vision in low light was exceptional.

The doors to the hall were large and wide to account for the immensity of it. A monstrous table, assembled from wood and stained, ran the length of the hall, and was large enough to comfortably seat thirty people. The high-backed chairs surrounding the table each appeared to be hewn from a single, albeit giant, block of wood and decorated with great flourish. Numerous doors opened on either side of the hall, with ornate tables displaying vases and sculptures of all kinds occupying the space between them. Above these displays hung tapestries of fine art, draping the walls of the hall. More tapestries hung from the rafters of the vaulted ceiling, tastefully intermingling with numerous chandeliers.

Edgar walked toward the center of the table. There stood a large oil lamp with a rather odd-shaped, though ornate, glass chimney. Edgar felt around the edge of the table for a moment; there was an audible click, and he had a box of matches in his hands. Cradling a match in the crook of his forefinger, he swiftly scraped his thumbnail against the head of it. The match lit, and the smell of sulfur filled the hall. He opened a small door in the glass of the chimney, lit the wick, retrieved the match, and closed the door. As the flame grew, its light began to reflect in interesting ways through the chimney, and as it reached its full height, beams of light shot out from the lamp, striking the vases and sculptures at specific points where they were reflected, sending light careening across the hall and up into the chandeliers, where they spun throughout the crystal, providing a glittering effect and illuminating the entire space.

Isabelle was awestruck, but the experience lasted naught more than a moment before she was struck by the realization she would never enjoy this space with the coven she once called her family. Anger bloomed and threatened to overwhelm her. Anger and bitterness. And all at once, she was overcome by much of her memory which had remained obscured. She fell to her knees, sobbing.

Edgar was at her side in an instant. She gently brushed him away, assuring him she had not fainted. Edgar kneeled next to her, emanating concern, but gave her the space she desired.

Continued after the break

Isabelle's memories were all fragments, and her emotions made it difficult to focus, to piece them together. It was a matter of minutes before she was able to make some sense of her recall, and another few minutes before she understood why she felt so angry. She slammed her fists on the ground and screamed.

"THOSE BASTARDS."

Blood-infused tears began streaming down her face. Edgar stood and grabbed a dinner towel from the side table behind them, placing it next to Isabelle. He held such patience. She might have assumed he could read her thoughts, so calm was he during her outburst and his reaction to it. She sat up, lifted the towel--it was red, lovely--and used it to dry her face and sop up what blood had fallen to the beautiful marble floor. She turned to look at the elder, who watched her, expectantly.

"You said this area was never off limits in your time?"

Edgar held out a hand to help her up. She waved it off and stood on her own.

"Such is the way of community. What did not belong to one person belonged to everyone. What happened?"

"I think they got rid of the elders before I got here. They used an outside threat to push their own agendas. I think I'm beginning to understand what Ceres meant."

"This may all be very clear in your mind, but I have no idea what to make of it. Who are 'they'?"

Isabelle glanced at one of the chairs and averted her gaze. Edgar caught the significance in the look. He pulled one of the chairs from the table, turned it. She watched as he pulled another and turned it to face the first, promptly taking a seat. He gestured to the empty chair, indicating she sit in it. With some hesitation, Isabelle moved to the chair and lowered herself into it. The seat, though hewn from wood and stained, with no upholstery, was one of the most comfortable chairs she had ever experienced.

"How is it possible this chair is all wood and so comfortable?"

Edgar laughed, disrupting Isabelle's train of thought. She realized he must be feeling something similar to herself, having gone into hibernation in one reality and waking in another. If multiple universes were real, she imagined this is what traversing them must feel like. Still, it appeared he was enjoying the experience of showing her the finer aspects of the manor, and despite her seething anger at having been barred from them, she was glad these halls were largely untouched, even if the distraction they provided from their current reality was temporary. She gathered her thoughts and began to explain things as she best understood them, though there remained holes in her memories. Perhaps they would fill themselves as she spoke.

"'They' were another coven from the north. They came when half of this coven left. But I didn't know that, at first." She shook her head. "I can't start there."

"Start at your beginning, then." Edgar pressed himself against the back of the chair. "I don't know that we're in any hurry."

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