5th March 08 - reminded of the Rubicon

This tome of mine must now record in my wakeful mind I am hearing things, voices in the daylight hours. I can do naught but listen, for sleep will not come to me until I answer their call. Blood-hunters from every corner of the world are writing to seek my counsel.

Vittorio di Ranriani, in a hand fair and bold, has written. We are both of us alone. He sends his likeness to my mind, like all of the blood-hunters that call to me, he is truly beautiful. He remembers Rome as I remember it. I fear though, he would not admire the raw brutality of my increasingly frequent rages. Yet, my instincts tell me that he knows nothing of the friendships, wars and politics that rattle on between the immortals of Paris, New Orleans and even Naples itself. Ahhh, what a blessing that must be.

My dear Tome, it is my own greed that has led to this. My scream rang out on that dark day in Paris, when I took the blood of Nicolas Lenfent - with it came an endless, seamless ocean of ebony silk. I know now, that as his blood seared through me, my actions rang out to to every immortal soul that had ever known or heard his name.
My selfish hunger has sent Nicolas insane again and there are those who would seek to profit from that. Now that I have taken his blood, I feel the possibility of treachery more keenly than ever.

Whom am I to trust now? Vittorio's is but one voice in many that now call me to them - in all politeness they reach out. How am I to know if they fain interest, while secretly planning some cold revenge for my actions?

Arion. My love, grant me peace in in your arms. Venga a casa! Commodo adveho domus!