The Divergence

Clementine leaned against the young woman beside her, resting almost her entire weight against her shoulder as she watched the line of people inch forward. 

Her long crimson ponytails swayed as she shifted, the black bows holding them in place contrasting with her pale skin and pointed ears. 

She had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes, which, in her opinion, was an entirely unreasonable amount of time to spend standing in a government building.

”Friend,” Clementine murmured, tugging lightly at the woman’s sleeve. ”Why can’t we just kill everyone in front of us? Then it’d be our turn next.”

The young woman looked down at the red-haired vampire leaning against her. Clementine blinked up at her innocently, her solid crimson eyes wide and expectant, as though she’d suggested something as harmless as changing queues.

The woman sighed. ”If I didn’t know you were joking, I’d be just as afraid of you as everyone else.”

Clementine placed a finger against her lips and tilted her head.

”Afraid? But I’m not scary.” She glanced around at the people carefully avoiding looking in her direction. ”Why does everyone keep acting like I’m going to do something bad?”

The woman pretended not to hear her.

In truth, she had no idea whether Clementine was joking.

She hadn’t even known the vampire before entering the building. 

They had arrived at roughly the same time, and Clementine had simply attached herself to her, cheerfully declaring that they were friends. 

The young woman had initially assumed it was a joke, but the vampire had remained beside her ever since, occasionally leaning against her or tugging at her clothing whenever she wanted attention.

Trying to explain that they weren’t actually friends had proven surprisingly difficult.

Clementine had responded to the first attempt by asking whether the woman was angry with her. 

When she’d said no, Clementine had smiled and announced that everything was fine.

The second attempt had been met with a pout.

By the third, the woman had decided that enduring the vampire’s company until her registration was finished would probably be easier.

Unfortunately, Clementine appeared determined to make even that difficult.

”Friend, I’m tired,” Clementine complained, tugging at her sleeve again. ”We’ve been here forever.”

”It’s been twenty minutes.”

”Exactly! Forever!” Clementine pouted, looking toward the registration windows. ”If I had a knife, I could definitely make everyone in front of us not be there anymore. Then we could go home.”

The woman slowly turned to stare at her.

Clementine’s lips curved into a shy smile, and she lowered her gaze.

”Don’t look at me like that. You’re going to make me embarrassed.”

”Please stop saying things like that.”

”Like what?”

”About killing people.”

Clementine blinked.

”But I haven’t killed anyone.”

”That’s not the point.”

”Then what’s the point, Friend?”

The woman opened her mouth, considered the question, and closed it again.

Clementine giggled.

”Hehe.”

The line advanced another few feet.

Clementine followed, humming cheerfully as the woman beside her rubbed her forehead. 

Around them, the registration hall buzzed with conversation. Humans filled most of the waiting area, some seeking identification documents, others registering changes brought about by the Divergences. 

Several uniformed soldiers stood near the walls, while government employees worked behind reinforced glass partitions.

Not everyone present was human.

Clementine could hear a few unfamiliar heartbeats moving at slightly different rhythms, and she occasionally caught the distinctive scent of another supernatural somewhere in the building. 

None were vampires, however, and she found that rather disappointing.

At least the people were interesting to watch.

Some were frightened of her. Others were curious. A few appeared openly hostile, though they quickly looked away whenever her crimson eyes wandered toward them.

She liked watching people try not to stare.

Her newly acquired companion, meanwhile, had begun glancing toward the exit with increasing frequency.

Clementine noticed.

”Are you going somewhere, Friend?”

”No.”

”Really?”

”Yes.”

Clementine smiled brightly and wrapped both hands around the woman’s arm.

”Good! I was worried you’d leave me all alone.”

The woman looked at the small vampire clinging to her.

There was something profoundly unsettling about the situation. 

Clementine was beautiful, almost impossibly so, and her manner suggested someone who simply wanted company. 

Yet the woman couldn’t shake the feeling that refusing her would be a terrible idea.

She wasn’t certain whether that feeling came from Clementine herself or from the knowledge that the person holding her arm was a vampire.

Either way, she decided not to test it.

Eventually, the line brought them to an open registration window.

Clementine immediately brightened.

”Hello, Friend!” she announced, leaning forward with both hands resting on the counter. ”I’m here to report my identity. I became a vampire!”

The man behind the glass looked up from his computer.

He had been processing registrations for several hours, and the exhaustion showed in the dark circles beneath his eyes. 

Yet the moment he met Clementine’s gaze, a peculiar chill crept down his spine.

He rubbed his forearms.

Goosebumps had risen across his skin.

The vampire before him was small, beautiful, and smiling. She hadn’t threatened him, and her manner was almost comically innocent.

Nevertheless, something about her made his body tense.

It was an instinctive reaction, as though the slightest lapse in attention would result in something terrible happening before he could understand why.

Clementine leaned closer.

”Friend? Why do you look so worried?” she asked, her expression filling with exaggerated concern. ”Did some bad people come here? Are they going to do bad things?”

Several people nearby turned toward the window.

The clerk swallowed.

”No, ma’am. Everything is under control.”

”Really?”

”Yes.”

Clementine studied him for another moment before smiling.

”That’s good! I wouldn’t want anything scary to happen.”

The man forced himself to return her smile.

”Since you’re registering as a vampire, there are additional procedures you’ll need to complete.”

”Okay!”

”Vampires are currently being enlisted to assist the country with various operations. You’ll need to wait here while we arrange for someone to speak with you.”

Clementine blinked.

”Enlisted?”

”Yes, ma’am.”

”To help?”

”That’s correct.”

Her expression changed immediately.

”But I don’t want to help.”

The clerk hesitated.

Clementine folded her arms and pouted.

”I just wanted to register. I didn’t come here to do boring things.”

”Ma’am, service to your country is an important responsibility.”

”Then you should do it!”

The man stared at her.

Clementine nodded enthusiastically, apparently pleased with her suggestion.

”You’d be really good at it, Friend. You already work here!”

Behind her, the young woman closed her eyes.

She had nearly reached the point of hoping someone would take Clementine away.

Nearly.

Because although she desperately wanted to be rid of the vampire, she had also begun to suspect that Clementine might not respond particularly well to being told what to do.

The clerk’s expression tightened. He glanced toward the soldiers standing near the entrance, then made a small gesture.

Four of them approached.

Clementine watched them with growing interest.

”Are those your friends?” she asked.

”They’re here to escort you through the next stage of registration,” the clerk replied.

”But I don’t want another stage.”

”Please cooperate.”

One soldier stepped forward.

”Come with us, ma’am.”

Clementine looked at his outstretched hand, then slipped sideways before he could touch her.

”No.”

”Ma’am.”

”Nooo.”

She reached across the counter and picked up a pen lying beside the clerk’s keyboard.

”I want to go home and watch television,” she complained, turning the pen between her fingers. ”I’ve already spent so much time here. Why do you keep trying to make me do things?”

One of the soldiers snorted.

”You’ll help whether you want to or not.”

Clementine looked at him.

For a brief moment, her smile disappeared.

Then it returned.

”Really?”

The soldier stepped forward, reaching for her arm.

He never touched her.

Something shifted through the air too quickly for anyone present to follow, and the next instant, Clementine was sitting on his shoulders.

Her legs rested loosely against his chest, one hand buried in his hair as she tilted his head backward. In her other hand, the pen hovered less than a millimeter from his exposed eye.

The soldier froze.

A startled cry rose from somewhere in the waiting area.

Clementine rocked gently from side to side, her ponytails swaying with the movement. The pen remained perfectly steady.

”Friend, I said I didn’t want to help,” she reminded him, sounding genuinely disappointed. ”If you keep making me do things I don’t like, I’m going to be bad.”

The soldier’s breathing became shallow.

”Get off me.”

”But I’m comfortable.”

”Get—”

”Shhh.”

She leaned forward, bringing her face close to his.

”You’re making it really hard to be nice.”

The other soldiers began reaching for their weapons.

Clementine noticed immediately.

”Oh! Let’s play a game!”

Her voice brightened with sudden enthusiasm.

”If any of you move, I’ll poke a tiny hole in your neck. Then you’ll know you’re out!”

The soldiers exchanged uncertain glances.

The man beneath her shifted his hand toward his sidearm.

Clementine pushed his head downward.

His knees struck the floor with a violent crack, and the rest of his body followed. Before he could collapse completely, Clementine flipped gracefully away from his shoulders and landed atop the registration counter.

The clerk scrambled backward, knocking his chair against the wall.

Clementine giggled.

”Friend! You weren’t listening!”

The soldier struggled to raise himself, but his legs refused to cooperate. Pain shot through his neck and shoulders, leaving him gasping.

Clementine looked around the room.

The waiting area had gone almost completely silent.

Dozens of faces stared at her.

Some were horrified. Others were frozen in disbelief. Several people had begun backing away, though nobody seemed willing to make the first move toward the exits.

Clementine’s smile widened.

She began counting.

”One, two, three...”

Her finger moved from person to person.

”Four, five, six...”

The clerk stared at her.

”What are you doing?”

”Counting!”

”Counting what?”

”Friends!”

She continued, her expression becoming increasingly delighted.

There were so many people.

So many frightened faces.

So many different reactions.

She could hear their hearts racing, could distinguish the subtle changes in their breathing, and could watch their eyes dart between the exits and the soldiers.

It was fascinating.

And rather fun.

Clementine clapped her hands.

”There’s so many of you! I think I’ll just...”

She paused dramatically.

”...play a little!”

The soldiers raised their weapons.

Clementine disappeared.

The nearest soldier barely had time to register movement before something seized his arm.

She reappeared beside him, gripping his wrist with one hand. Her small body turned in a graceful motion, and the soldier was lifted completely off his feet.

He flew nearly forty feet across the registration hall.

His body struck the far wall with a tremendous crash, cracking the plaster and leaving a deep indentation before he fell motionless to the floor.

Someone screamed.

The remaining soldiers tried to turn.

Clementine was already behind them.

”Oh, no.”

Her voice sounded almost apologetic.

She held the pen between two fingers.

Its tip was wet with blood.

”I didn’t mean to poke you so much.”

One soldier staggered, his hands flying toward his throat. Another collapsed beside him, blood spreading rapidly across the front of his uniform.

The third managed to turn halfway before Clementine’s hand flickered past his neck.

He fell without another sound.

Clementine stared down at them.

Then she snickered.

”Hehehe.”

The registration hall erupted into panic.

People stumbled backward, knocking chairs aside and colliding with one another. Several cried out for help. Others covered their mouths, their eyes fixed on the bodies lying around the room.

Clementine leaned forward.

”Wait, wait!”

She waved both hands.

”Don’t be scared! I’m harmless!”

Her fingers were stained red.

She noticed, glanced down at them, and frowned.

”Oh.”

She wiped her hands against the front of her Gothic dress. The blood disappeared into the dark fabric, and she resumed waving enthusiastically.

”See? Nice and clean! I’m really nice!”

Nobody appeared reassured.

Across the waiting area, the young woman Clementine had attached herself to remained seated.

She hadn’t moved since the violence began.

Her hands rested stiffly in her lap, and her gaze remained fixed on the small red-haired vampire standing among the bodies.

She had known Clementine for less than half an hour.

Less than half an hour.

And somehow, in that brief time, she’d gone from being an ordinary woman waiting to complete her registration to being publicly identified as the friend of someone who had just murdered four soldiers.

A cold sensation settled in her stomach.

She remembered Clementine’s earlier question.

Why can’t we just kill everyone in front of us?

She had assumed it was a joke.

Or rather, she’d desperately wanted it to be a joke.

Now she understood that the vampire had been perfectly capable of doing exactly what she’d suggested from the beginning.

The woman slowly covered her face.

Why did she have to pick me?

Clementine, meanwhile, had become distracted by something entirely different.

A peculiar sensation tugged at her awareness.

It came from somewhere beyond the physical world, from a vast crimson expanse she had only recently discovered. Within that strange space, countless faint presences shimmered like distant stars.

And among them were six extraordinary concentrations of power.

Six immense presences.

Six others like her.

Clementine tilted her head.

Her lips parted in a delighted smile.

”Hehe...”

How interesting.

She could feel them without knowing where they were. Each presence seemed to pull at everything around it, and yet none diminished the others.

They were all equally important.

Just like her.

Clementine giggled again.

Then she looked at the terrified people gathered throughout the hall.

”I’ve decided!”

Nobody answered.

”I’m going to make everyone here vampires!”

The silence deepened.

Several people looked at one another, uncertain whether they had heard correctly.

Clementine frowned thoughtfully.

”Wait...”

She raised her fingers and began counting.

”One, two, three...”

Her expression brightened.

”Actually, I’ll make three special people vampires!”

She held up three fingers.

”But you have to win!”

The young woman slowly lowered her hands from her face.

”Please...” she whispered.

Clementine turned toward her immediately.

”Friend!”

The woman flinched.

”Please don’t do this.”

”But it’ll be fun!”

”People are dead!”

Clementine glanced toward the soldiers.

”Oh.”

She looked back at the woman.

”That’s because they lost.”

The answer was delivered with such casual certainty that the young woman felt her stomach twist.

Clementine studied her expression for a moment before smiling again.

”Don’t worry, Friend. You haven’t lost anything!”

The woman stared at her.

She couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

The bodies of the soldiers lay scattered around the registration hall, their blood spreading across the floor. None moved. 

The one Clementine had thrown into the wall remained crumpled beneath the damaged plaster, while the others lay where they had fallen.

Their corpses were already cooling.

Nobody attempted to rush the doors.

There were too many people, too little space, and no way to know whether Clementine would attack anyone who moved.

Even if several dozen people ran at once, who could guarantee they would be among those who escaped?

The vampire stood on the counter, smiling at them with an expression of delighted anticipation.

”I just want a few more friends,” she explained. ”That’s all!”

She clasped her hands behind her back.

”Wouldn’t you like to be my friends too?”

Nobody answered.

Their expressions ranged from terror to disgust, with a few staring at her in stunned disbelief.

Clementine’s smile remained perfectly innocent.

Then she snickered.

”Hehehe.”

Her gaze drifted toward the ceiling.

”I know! Let’s play hide-and-seek!”

A woman near the entrance began crying.

Clementine pointed toward her.

”Don’t cry, Friend! It’s an easy game!”

She rocked back and forth on her heels.

”I’ll count to three, and everyone has to hide. If I find you...”

She paused, her smile growing wider.

”...you’ll have to get punished!”

The people looked around desperately.

The registration hall was a wide, open room filled with rows of chairs, registration counters, and a handful of desks. 

There were no closets, no concealed passages, and nowhere a person could realistically hide from someone capable of crossing the entire building in an instant.

Even the desks offered little protection.

The exits were visible.

So was Clementine.

A terrible realization settled over the crowd.

The vampire wasn’t behaving like someone negotiating demands or attempting to escape.

She was playing.

And she appeared to regard their lives as part of the entertainment.

Several people began sobbing openly.

Others clutched one another, whispering frantic prayers.

Clementine watched them with interest.

”Ready?”

Nobody moved.

She raised one finger.

”Three!”

The crowd surged.

People rushed toward the corners, ducked behind chairs, and scrambled beneath desks. 

Several shoved others aside in their desperation, while a few simply crouched where they stood, covering their heads.

Clementine watched every movement.

Her crimson eyes tracked the shifting bodies with extraordinary precision. 

Beneath her childish excitement, something calculating briefly surfaced in her expression.

She noticed who moved first.

Who pushed someone else.

Who attempted to protect another person.

Who froze.

Who looked toward the doors.

All of it interested her.

”One!”

She giggled.

Her eyes remained wide open.

She hadn’t even bothered to cover them.

───

The forest stretched beneath Lavinia in an endless expanse of dark green and crimson foliage, its enormous trees interrupted occasionally by clearings and unfamiliar rock formations. 

Far ahead, the distant lights of Oakridge marked the edge of the territory they had spent so much time defending.

Lavinia adjusted her wings slightly, allowing the air to carry her into a more comfortable position.

”Well,” she said, looking toward the city, ”I think I’m ready for the endless rounds of questions we’re going to get when we arrive.”

Valerie, flying beside her, veered a little farther away before glancing back.

”Then we’ll answer them.”

”That’s your entire plan?”

”Pretty much.”

Lavinia gave her an unimpressed look.

Valerie grinned.

”What else are we supposed to say? We tried to help. The man told us not to. His wife died because he wouldn’t let us save her.”

”That’s certainly one way to summarize it.”

”It’s what happened.”

Lavinia couldn’t argue with that.

The memory of the accident still troubled her. The wrecked vehicles, the injured woman, the man’s increasingly frantic accusations, and the terrible realization that the opportunity to save his wife had slipped away.

They had possessed the means to help.

They had offered.

And the man had refused.

Yet Lavinia knew perfectly well that the story wouldn’t remain that simple once people began discussing it.

Rosaline exhaled beside them.

”Are we sure splitting up was a good idea?”

Lavinia turned toward her.

”What, you wanted all of us to come?”

”Not necessarily.” Rosaline brushed a strand of red hair away from her face. ”But there’s safety in numbers. I don’t think anyone’s going to attack us, obviously, but people can do some very stupid things when they’re convinced they’re morally right.”

”That’s putting it mildly,” Valerie remarked.

Rosaline nodded.

”Exactly. And I’d rather not deal with someone deciding they need to teach us a lesson about morality.”

Violetta, flying a short distance ahead, glanced over her shoulder.

”Bringing everyone would have introduced other problems.”

”Such as?” Rosaline asked.

”Sybil, Adeliza, and Genevieve are still adjusting to their circumstances. I don’t know how any of them would respond if the situation became hostile.”

Lavinia’s expression softened.

The three vampires had endured far too much recently. Genevieve’s death, the desperate search for help, and the extraordinary circumstances surrounding her return had left wounds that regeneration couldn’t simply erase.

Sybil and Adeliza, in particular, had already demonstrated how violently they could respond when overwhelmed.

Violetta continued, ”I’d rather have Ophelia, Cordelia, Celestine, Evelyn, and Evangeline stay with them for the time being. They can keep one another company, and there won’t be as many unfamiliar people involved.”

”That makes sense,” Gwendolyn said.

The manor they had chosen to occupy lay approximately thirty miles from Oakridge. 

It was large enough to accommodate their growing group, comfortable enough for everyone to settle in, and sufficiently isolated that they could enjoy some privacy.

For vampires capable of flying at extraordinary speeds, thirty miles was hardly an inconvenience.

They could return whenever necessary.

Adelaide sighed.

”I just don’t want to play games with people who wouldn’t have been able to do anything if they were in our position.”

Valerie glanced toward her.

”What do you mean?”

”I mean people who weren’t there, who couldn’t have saved that woman themselves, and who are still going to have very strong opinions about what we should’ve done.”

”Ah.”

Adelaide shook her head.

”We offered to help. We explained what we could do. The man refused. What else were we supposed to do?”

Gwendolyn’s expression became thoughtful.

”Even if we’d forced him to let us help, people would still complain.”

Lavinia looked toward her.

”You think so?”

”Of course.” Gwendolyn adjusted her wings. ”Imagine if we’d held him down and given his wife vampire blood anyway. She would’ve survived, but he might’ve completely lost his mind. Then people would say we assaulted him, violated his wishes, or did something terrible to his wife.”

”Even though she’d be alive?” Valerie asked.

”Especially because she’d be alive,” Gwendolyn replied. ”They’d have the luxury of arguing about whether we should’ve done it.”

Rosaline made an irritated sound.

”Oh, I’d love to hear someone try that with me.”

Lavinia raised an eyebrow.

”Try what?”

”Tell me I’m a horrible person because I didn’t force someone to accept help they didn’t want.”

Rosaline folded her arms.

”I’m not a doctor. I’m not obligated to save every human I come across. We offered to help that woman, and her husband chose not to accept it. If someone wants to make me feel guilty about that, they’re welcome to try.”

”Please don’t encourage them,” Violetta said.

”I’m not encouraging anyone.”

”You sound as though you’re looking forward to an argument.”

Rosaline smiled.

”Well, if they’re determined to give me one...”

”Rosaline.”

”What?”

Violetta sighed.

Lavinia couldn’t help smiling faintly.

Despite everything that had happened, there was something reassuring about hearing her companions bicker over such ordinary things. 

Rosaline’s indignation, Valerie’s practical attitude, Gwendolyn’s gentle observations, and Adelaide’s frustration all felt familiar.

They were still themselves.

Even after six other Royal Vampires had awakened somewhere across the world.

Lavinia’s gaze drifted toward the horizon.

She could feel them.

The sensation had remained with her since the moment she’d swallowed the collected blood and watched the crimson expanse transform.

Six vast presences existed beyond ordinary perception.

They weren’t voices, exactly, nor were they physical sensations. They were more like immense concentrations of significance, each one pulling upon the countless lights scattered throughout the Blood Sea.

Singularities.

The word came to her naturally.

Each of the six possessed the same fundamental weight she did, and none seemed subordinate to another.

Lavinia found that both fascinating and faintly unsettling.

Somewhere in the world, six other vampires had awakened to something extraordinary.

She wondered what they were doing.

Whether they understood what had happened.

Whether they were frightened.

Or whether, like her, they were simply trying to make sense of it all.

”Lavinia?”

Valerie’s voice drew her attention back.

”Hm?”

”You’ve been staring into space.”

”Sorry.”

”Thinking about the others again?”

Lavinia nodded.

”A little.”

Gwendolyn drifted closer.

”The other Princesses?”

”Yeah.”

”Can you still feel them?”

”Every single one.”

Lavinia hesitated.

”It’s strange. They’re so far away, but they don’t really feel distant.”

Valerie smiled.

”Maybe that’s the point.”

”Maybe.”

Violetta glanced toward them, her expression thoughtful, but she didn’t interrupt.

Below, the forest began thinning.

The outskirts of Oakridge came into view, followed by roads, buildings, and the familiar outlines of structures that had survived the Tide. 

The city looked peaceful from above, though Lavinia knew appearances could be misleading.

Soon, they would be answering questions.

Explaining themselves.

Possibly arguing with people who had already decided what they believed.

Lavinia exhaled.

”Whatever happens down there, we did everything we should’ve.”

Adelaide looked toward her.

”We did.”

”We offered help,” Lavinia continued. ”We explained what we could do. We didn’t force anything on anyone.”

Valerie nodded.

”And anyone reasonable can see that.”

Lavinia glanced toward the city below.

”Then I suppose we’ll find out how many reasonable people are waiting for us.”

Rosaline laughed softly.

”Oh, this should be fun.”

”Your definition of fun worries me,” Gwendolyn remarked.

”Only sometimes?”

”Frequently.”

Their laughter mingled with the rushing air as the vampires descended toward Oakridge.

Lavinia folded her wings slightly, allowing herself to drop ahead of the others. 

The six distant Singularities remained at the edge of her awareness, immense and unfamiliar, but she set them aside for the moment.

There would be time to understand the Blood Sea.

Time to find the other Princesses.

Time to discover what their awakening meant for the world.

Clementine,