That I choose a different fate for Janeve Tamrith is not because I now know more and am more certain of what may be, it is the very opposite. After meeting with Count Verandis and Gwendis, who have proposed to take Janeve under their wings, I no longer have a clear definition of what being ‘alive’ is.
These vampires, who I had thought but mindless undead, whether born through curse, infection, or spell-craft, are not so different from me. Despite having no soul they feel the pain of the flesh as I do; perhaps the desire too. They feel sorrow and happiness, fear and faith. They retain the memories of who they were… are. Perhaps the only difference between myself and a vampire is that I prefer my meat well-done.
Like Janeve I am soulless… and if she deserves to die for that, then so do I.