Sabbat.
It's such a strange word, but it's what they've chosen to call people like me. And now I've been given some sort of strange pardon by the Camarilla in order to serve their purposes.
I'm not at all surprised - clearly the Founders can't ignore what we have learned to embrace. They throw the term "Sabbat" around as if it's dirty and vile and ultimately wrong but they're just denying their true natures. They struggle to turn their backs on their true powers and abilities and the true blessings this undead existence has granted us. We are cursed in so many ways but at the same time gifts with such amazing abilities.
I don't know why I continue to play along with this routine. Perhaps it's just idle curiosity of some sort. Maybe it's because that as loathe as I am to admit it, my fellow Children are the closest I can get to having some sort of a family anymore. After my embrace, there was no hope of truly returning home. I am no longer human after all. We're all more than just human. But the limited feelings of kinship and familiarity that I have left in this world are limited to the Children.
Especially after the Cathedral fell.
Vlad keeps returning to my thoughts. Is this some sort of a message? Should I return to my childe? Is he the family that I'm supposed to care for and keep safe? What a thought! Vlad was never one to need protection - he's much stronger than most give him credit for. The lengths he is willing to go for power, well, I cannot help but feel an odd sense of pride.
But the Children, well, they are still a confused little group who spend more time fearing their own abilities for the sake of The Masquerade.
And thus they call me Sabbat.
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