It was Oncle Vervain who saw my destiny to become what I have. He knew of the Talamasca, the order of scholars who would become my mother my father when Great Nananne passed. He knew that they would nurture and educate me, and that their Superior General David Talbot, in his helpless loving, would take me to my fate. Oncle Vervain told me this in life, and in my dreams. Louis de Pointe du Lac and his beloved, hateful Claudia, Raglan James, even Lestat...he knew the part that each would play in taking me into this darkness, and he gave me the knowledge I required to bring it about. Ah, but if you have read David's account you know all of this. If you haven't you should. David has a way with words that I lack.

I pen this from New Orleans, the fledgling child of Louis, made powerful, perhaps immortal, by the blood of Lestat. It has all gone according to design, save one tenacious strand of the web: Louis. My precious Louis, whose hand I reach for in the night. It was not my intention to love him, and I once tried not to. But he is my maker, and my desire. Something intangible compels me to him, and it whispers to me that it will not be denied. Even I can smile at the irony. After all, every good doctor deserves a taste of her own medicine now and then.

With that, I leave you. And I beckon. Come, join in the Darkness.