Home.

Perhaps it is true, that you can never go home again?

Or does a home change so much, that all that remains is a faint memory upon the edge of time?

She gazed silently over what was her home village. Now, in the passage of either a short or long amount of time, depending on how you count it, she gazed upon a modern city. Though her countenance betrayed no emotion, the shade hovering nearby from the shadow could sense the turmoil brewing where no mortal eyes could see. The figure hadn't changed much these years, as if she ever would, her clothing still the same tastes, a gothlike practicality as the black turtleneck and jeans, combined with her everpresent trenchcoat, concealed her in shadow as effectively as a Keeper might feel.

Despite the silence, the shade said nothing, letting the silence drag on, a comfort in comparison to the shrieking that might sometimes ensue in this dark place. As the woman studied where she once dwelled, her small cottage now a mini-mall, her eyes narrowed, perhaps in disgust, or perhaps sorrow. Her gaze wandered still further, finding the spot where she was Changed, once for ill, then for the better, though that is always so relative a definition. Now, a company called Magadon had a factory on the site. Filing the name away for future reference, should she come across it again, she noticed the shade hovering nearby, her gaze unhindered by any Shroud.

"You can never go home again." A simple statement, made by a voice that could perhaps be young, but tainted with the wisdom won over the years, making a mockery of youth instead.

The shade startled, still unused to her friend's ability to just see through to the Shadow without effort. She whispered, a tone no mortal could detect, but her companion could easily acknowledge, "Inquisitor, I thought..."

Sandra's eyes flashed at the shade, then she smiled, the anger disintegrating as fast as it appeared. "I am no Inquisitor, not anymore." and then she looked out upon the city, "And this, is no longer my home. Three centuries ago, it was. Now... it is nothing, a truck stop. A small dot on some atlas that shows 'food, gas, hotel, available here'. It is... mundane." and she sighed a little, looking her true age for only a second.

The shade paused, uncertain how to proceed, "Well, if we cannot stop here... then where?" and she furrowed a brow, always a bit fearful when other Kindred could be nearby... the Giovanni almost broke her, if Sandra hadn't saved her from their dark grip.

Sandra smiled at the wraith, "Don't worry Ariel, I must feed, as we all do, and then we shall go to where we can continue our dual quest in safety, Caine be willing."

The wraith furrowed her eyebrows, "Not Camarilla...?"

Sandra laughed softly, "Well, yes... and no. I have heard from the most disreputable Archbishop of Toronto that Manchester is home to a Gangrel Prince, of great power. Gangrel have little use for Tremere, so I at least, should be able to avoid detection." And she looked down to the city again, speaking softer, "My 'allies' are of little help in my quest... and when my 'allies' are such no longer, my enemies might prove to be of help."

Replacing her shades under the full moon's light to conceal her catlike eyes, one of two reminders of the love that once burned in her dead heart, she glanced to the wraith. "Come, my friend, I must feed... and perhaps we can set some rights in this city before we reach Manchester."

Ariel furrowed her spectral brow again, "Sandra, you know that the warm light convinces people better..."

Sandra finished the proverb, "Than the burning flame, I know. But there are some out there, that can learn no other lesson." and she strode down the path, into the suburbs of the small Maine community in silence thereafter.

Alexandre DuBois smiled at his prey. His magic crackled over the terrified young girl as, away from any witnesses in his haven, he could savor the terror in this prey's blood. He clucked his tongue at her shrieks, as sparks flew from his fingers, "Relax, my dear, and it will pass more quickly." Suddenly, he felt a force slam into his back, catapulting him swiftly across the room and pounding him into the wall, cracking his head on a painting.

His eyes furrowed, glowing red as he saw the figure, a woman no less, clad in black, her face obscured in the shadows. Using the Second Sight, he saw that she was a vampire as well, and that she bore the brand of the Traitors. He smiled confidently, "Scion of House Goriatrix, why don't you step into the light, so that I may kill you properly!" And he felt his bravado slowly puddle to the ground, for when she stepped out, she was so beautiful, a feral look about her, the way those three eyes bore into him... Three EYES???

He gasped in shock, the spells of immolation fading from his mind as he pointed, "No! It can't be!!!" as she smiled softly, relishing the terror just a bit, as she chanted a fierce song in Latin, gesturing toward him as flames engulfed his legs. He shrieked in panic as he lost control to the Beast, running madly and stumbling, trying to roll the flames out. Looking satisfied, Sandra withdrew the other rememberance of her lover from her coat, brandishing it as she strode toward the terrified Warlock.

She spoke softly, whispering, "This, is for a thousand years of lies, for the crime of murdering the closest thing to a saint that our kind has ever produced." and she quickly, easily, decapitated the fear-paralyzed Tremere, drinking his blood while his would-be prey lay huddled in the corner. Smiling, she placed the head of the vampire on his chest, and then ignited the body with a single word, gazing upon the mortal and saying simply, "Sleep."

Picking the girl up effortlessly as she collapsed into unconsciousness, Sandra swiftly made her way outside as the house the Tremere dwelled in caught fire, bringing in fire crews rather quickly. Setting the girl down, knowing the mortal would not be believed by any locals anyway, she strode off, the blood of the Tremere fulfilling her needs... until she reached her new home.