Toulouse, 1st of February of 2013 After my 'death' in Marseille, it took me almost a month to make it to Paris. The trip itself I did by foot, staying close to the main roads, but not so close that I would draw attention. A young woman traveling alone would be noticed, so before I left the nunnery, I managed to get my hands on a set of boy's clothes and I cut my hair short. Along with the clothes, I took a hooded cape that would hide my albinic complexion. In a time of turmoil you do not want to draw attention for being different - like I said before, folks don't like people who are different. Because of my caution, or maybe out of pure dumb luck, my trip was uneventful. I had no money so I could not afford shelter of food. Fortunately, if there was one thing I knew well was how to survive on the road; how to find food in the forests and the best places to rest for the night. My errant upbringing always did come in handy. As I walked through the gates of Paris, I saw the city in a way I had never seen before. It was true that, with the arrival of the spring and of Napoleon to the Italian front, the war had just taken a new and more volatile turn, but I was still shocked at the difference to the city. I had been there just a few months ago and I had not felt it. Perhaps it was because I was just a child then and now I anything but a child. I paused for a moment, gathering the courage to take the next step into the crowed. It was this crowd that had sprung the revolution and they had done it because they were tired of being bled by the court. But now it was the war itself that bled them. There was discontent and mistrust in the air. I drew my cape tighter and made my way to Saint Joseph's Church and to Darius. Darius' church had always had an eerie feel to it, but this time it was even more pronounced. Maybe because it was now the only place I knew that I might call home. For the first time since my family's death I felt at peace. An alter boy came by and I asked about Father Darius. He said that Darius was out but would return in a few hours so I decided to wait. I found a bench that was not visible from the entrance and I just sat on it. I don't know how long I stayed there. My mind wandered off as it did every time I had an idle moment. As of late, it lingered on my lost family and all those unanswered questions. I had come to notice, as I traveled to Paris, that my ordeal had changed me physically as well was mentally. I had more energy and could get by longer with less food or water. I walked all day without needing a break, as long as it wasn't at a very fast pace. Also, the strangest things of all, I healed so fast... I noticed this when I tripped on a fallen log and made a deep gash on my leg. It healed completely in less than a minute. That had never happened before the attack. I was sitting in the dark when Darius arrived. Of all the strange things that had happened to me at that time, his arrival triggered the strangest. I was sitting there and suddenly I felt this inexplicable apprehension, like a new sense had developed and was telling me to watch my back. I got up suddenly and started looking around. That's when I saw Darius. He would later explain to me that this was how it felt to be in the proximity of another immortal; it is how we know each other. When I saw it was him I ran and he welcomed me with open arms. This was a person I had known my entire life and I trusted him completely. I cried in his arms. I cried even more than I had at the funeral pyre. As I cried I heard his whisper 'it's alright child, it's alright' in a way that was not patronizing, but soothing. I knew that I did not have to tell him that I had lost everything because he already knew it. Eventually, he took me to the back of the church, to the place he called home. He gave me a cup of calming tea and I told him the details of what had happened. When he nodded in understanding I asked him why I had not died. That was when he told me I was now an immortal and that he had always known I had the potential to become an immortal. When I asked him how he knew, he revealed that he was one too. That first day, he left it at that. He merely led me to a small cottage, just a few yards away from his church. He said that this was still holy ground and that I would be safe here. Then he told me to rest. That night, I slept soundly for the first time since my 'death'.