Lenore was on a boat on her way to Europe. The sky drenched ocean tumbled around her in a glorious array of light, a night stained glass window ever changing. She sighed at the weariness of her soul, so tired of governing those unruly children of the North Americas. She had left her daughter Little Deer, or Abigail as she was now called, in charge. She remembered her with a smile on her face. Her daughter from Rising Stag before she was turned was hardly two when her tragedy befell her, however Lenore kept a close watch when she could, and it was lucky she did. She was so proud of her daughter, who grew taller and more graceful than the birch tree, at sixteen she was still not a mother and had no intention of taking a consort though her father worried. Rising Stag after a few years chose a new woman, that Lenore was well acquainted with and had spared no affection on Lenoreâ€™s children, she owed that woman quite a debt.<br/>Little Deer had got lost in the woods wandering, pushing out beyond what she knew, collecting berries by a stream, night was falling when Lenore heard her screams, she could feel it rattling in her bones. When Lenore found her laying in the woods, her life blood almost gone from the wild bear that had found her she fell weeping. Little Deer could not comprehend and thought that she had been dying. Lenore knew she had a choice; either to let her end her mortal life or give her the dark curse. Her maternal love won over her reason and she gave her dark gift to her daughter. As a millennia passed their relationship was more of sisters than of their original mother and daughter, and so with great urging Abigail endeavoured to get her mother out of the country for some spirit. Abigail had just returned from South America fifty scant years before, and had aided Lenore in running the North Americas. Quite secure in her governance, Lenore decided to aid her failing spirit with a trip to Europe.<br/>Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬Â¬<br/><br/>Jack was watching Lenore as she gazed at the ocean, thinking about the past. He could always tell because she sighed more. His love for her was more than he could comprehend, but it had been denied many years ago. His face was rough with thick hairs, his clothes that of a cowboy, never one for suits. She however, was a goddess in a white lace gown, and strings of pearls in her hair and on her neck. His lovely moon goddess. Ach, Europe, he thought, those gay and foolish brethren. He remembered Rome, the Visigoths, the Gaulians, the English. He thought back to ancient Sumer, the place of his birth, how long since he had seen those beautiful lands? Over a thousand years.<br/>He was a prince, a prince of princes, they called him Gilgamesh, the son of the gods. He thought of the desert, the gardens, the temple he helped build with his own hands. His friend and lover was Enkidu, a man of such beauty and strength that it had taken his breath away. Enkidu engaged him as no woman ever had, despite himself having ten wives. They went hunting in the desert, and into the sacred cedar groves, to kill large beasts. When Gilgamesh felled the great lion he gave the pelt of it to Enkidu. But he remembered when Enkidu was pierced by that charging boar, he remembered the smell of the room and his festering wound that nothing seemed to heal.<br/><br/>He felt that he should return soon to tend Enkiduâ€™s grave, and see what his descendants had done to the place. Instead, he was with Lenore, that beautiful engaging soul, never losing her humanity despite the dark curse. She had even got Jack in line with his feeding, so as to produce conservation of the species. She was incredibly accomplished, had read many libraries of books, learned every instrument as it came to her, and every language as well. She loved to dance. He sighed and gazed at her again, his vampire daughter, his friend.