Claire's eyes widened, her face drained of its colour and her back sat rigid. No. No no nonononono. She<span style="font-style: italic">couldn't</span>go with Vero. Not a demon. Not one which felt so much like that presence when she was little. She couldn't remember anything from that day. Just a sense of fear, hurt and dread as the demonic powers overtook her before she woke up in ragged clothes at the edge of the city of Gaspe.<br/><br/>She<span style="font-style: italic">had</span>to get him to reconsider. She was about to follow Ghaleon to beg him but then she felt something. A wave of power radiating from Vero. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as all other thought dashed from her head. She bolted up the stairs and to her room, slamming the door behind her and locking it for good measure. She sat there, hugging her knees and leaning against the door as the waves subsided. Shakily, she got up and walked over to the desk in the room. Taking out a small leather bound book and a quill she began to write.<br/><span style="font-style: italic"><br/>Dear Mark<br/>How are you doing. We're setting off on another mission tomorrow and this is one I'm definitely not looking forward to. The king of Lusteria, but the gold is too good to turn down. If I only had a sponsor I wouldn't have to go around performing unsavory deeds but unfortunately I can't just waltz into a court and propose my idea. On top of that I have to work with Vero. I'll still try to get Ghaleon to change his mind but after he yelled at Lilith, I don't want to push it. <br/><br/>Do you wonder if there's something wrong with me? That I'd kill innocent people to further my own goals yet feel little remorse? I feel sorry for them but its more remorse that I can't feel remorse. <br/><br/>Love, Claire<br/></span><br/>In the end she was still looking for a purpose in life, other than making guns. What would happen afterwards? She didn't know but she knew she was not content killing kings. She closed the book and tucked it into her bag, packing for the trip tomorrow. Then, draping the bag over the chair, she curled up in her bed and went to sleep.