Nocturne No. 10: Rest and Righteousness
General Summary
Sept. 26, 1996
The hall smelled of rot and decay, a tomb sealed away for years on end. Nadiya calmly walked past the mildew-stained paintings and made her way towards the armchair casting a long shadow in front of the fireplace.
How cruel the centuries can be. When she'd first arrived in the Pacific Northwest the vampire before her had been a paragon of his clan, radiating the same regal attitude that carried his family through the Crusades. What sat before her was a ghost of that nobleman, a pile of flesh wracked by disease to the point where a final would be a mercy. But orders must be followed, so Nadiya kneeled before the Prince of Seattle.
"It is an honor being in your presence once more," she said, watching the pile of flesh twitch in pleasure at the praise. "The Camarilla of Portland and Las Vegas has failed to stay faithful to our tenets, so I now offer my services to you and your city."
The flesh wheezed and shifted in the chair, leaving deep red stains on the fabric. "Your sire once warned me of your idealism, I agreed to rescue you from the war but I knew the new world would disappoint you with its permissiveness."
Nadiya stiffened. "The tenets of the masquerade have kept us safe for centuries, but so many of these younger generations see them as choices to be picked or rejected at a whim. If one proves inconvenient, they pretend it doesn't exist."
"And a Sheriff alone cannot change such a careless culture," the flesh groaned. "Which is why you must declare praxis as Prince of Seattle upon my torpor."
Nadiya took a step back in shock, speechless at the Long Shadow's suggestion. The words came to her as she bowed lower and said "I would have to refuse such an offer, I have not lived in Seattle for any length of time and do not know the power brokers. Surely the Ivory Tower has more experienced candidates to inherit the role."
A wheeze and a gasp, perhaps the flesh was trying to scoff at Nadiya's suggestion. "This city is one of petty greed and feuds, Wither would love the role but his ambitions threaten the masquerade. Rosalita and Shivani are content in their roles, and Belov has been too distracted by his clan's troubles. I could not trust a Malkavianor Nosferatu with the role, so all choices lead to you. You will restore the city's respect for the traditions, and punish those who would bend them to their advantage."
The words washed over Nadiya, the Long Shadow's years of observations giving her little room to argue against the city's dire condition. Unlike Portland and certainly unlike Vegas, the prince understood the importance of a good successor to prevent a century's worth of work from being undone.
Nadiya couldn't make any more arguments to put off her fate. Slowly she stood up and placed her hand on the flesh, "I accept this responsibility, and I will work tirelessly to preserve the Camarilla you have created here. The kindred will learn to respect the traditions once again."
The flesh nodded in approval, feeling the strength of the blood and righteousness coursing beneath Nadiya's skin. It wouldn't be long before he'd fall into torpor and rest beneath Seattle's streets, but he knew the city would be safe in Nadiya's hands.
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