Samuel The Prince lay dormant. None were old enough to wake him. On an altar of marble, his body rested as it had for the last 50 years.

The tales of his generosity of purpose had spread to those who never knew him; when he'd started to hunger for the blood in the veins of his fellows, he had taken confession, and decided to take the great sleep.

In his absence, the city had been in the hands of his childe, Robert, and his Guardian - Bishop Felipe. After the Ceremony, there had been problems - the Carthian Movement in particular had decided to take this opportunity to establish their own republic. Fortunately for the city, Felipe and the loyal Sanctified were alerted to their plans early and were able to take pre-emptive action. The Carthian Movement was now silent.

As for the Invictus, they took their opportunities where they could get them. With promises of power and control, they distracted Felipe, enabling their best recruiters access to Robert. There was, after all, a Lineage to support. Away from the court, although tempted by all, the Mysterious Ordo Dracul were provided with the means to hunt down the texts that gave them knowledge of the Arcane. They watched Robert carefully, but were more interested in observing his progress than attempting to convert him. Keiran, the Kogaion of the Dragons, had made a decree that understanding of the Coils could only come with a rejection of the political. And so the Dragons served the highest bidder, placing the funds back into their eldritch research.

But Robert was oblivious to them all. He was open to another path, that of the Acolytes. Naked, daubed in blood, he would dance by the fires with the ragged, haggard creatures who lived on the hearth; feeding on farm animals and barely able to talk anything as refined as English. Only one held his attention, a beautiful, innocent girl by the name of Niamh who taught him the powers that lay in his blood. He loved her, and they lay together in a parody of the acts of men. It was five nights until Robert's sire was due to rise, and he had vowed to ask his sire if they could wed. Niamh smiled and watched him as he slept, drugged by the draught she had put into his blood.

Felipe entered the Royal Chambers and awoke Robert. It was time for the Awakening. Robert asked for time alone with his father before he awoke, and Felipe agreed, closing the door behind him. In the dark chamber, alone with his father, Robert sank his teeth into his father's throat and drained not only the blood in his veins, but his very spirit, howling as it was sucked into oblivion. From the shadows, one of the Acolytes appeared; devoid of markings or piercings and naked. He leaned into Robert, kissed him on the lips and climbed under the shroud.

This night the court would see Samuel rise, but it would be Cameron, Heirophant of the Circle, who would rule them. All the Mekhet had been summarily converted, chased away or destroyed, and only Felipe still maintained his resolve. Niamh, who now bore the face of the deceased Robert, would destroy him at next confession.

The doors opened, and the court awaited, On an altar of marble, a New Order awaited - and they knew nothing.

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