When she choses to sleep, her spirit walks among the dreamlands and joins her Inner Circle - her loyal students and followers of the occult.

Today she shares her new plans with them and feels, for the first time, the freedom and responsibility of becoming a true leader.

The Trinity binds them no longer. Soon, they will stand for themselves, away from the shadow of their elders and unfettered by Alain Monfort or Bran. After a lifetime of servitude, their own destiny is a bright light at the end of a bleak tunnel. They feel a warm, unearthly feeling in the air, perhaps brought upon them by the friendship and safety they now discover.

She smiles at their gathering, satisfied and proud, but she can't put aside the thought that something is wrong. Since she was released from her vampiric form, her powers have grown and she sometimes can see, in the vast ocean of the dreamlands, a few clear shades of the future. In those images, the coming events were certainly overlapping in a chaotic ripple, but she could also see that a new Inner Circle could exist after that.

What Alice could not see among so many possible futures was herself.
How was that? After all she had endured, how could the Circle struggle on without her? Was this gathering her last fleeting moment of happiness? Why could she not find her own destiny? Voices were joined in hearty debate, faces turned to watch for her approval, a pleasant reunion freshly unfolding, but still this doubt of her own weighted upon her chest like a dagger.

She asked for a moment to resume her composure. Alice contemplated her life like she would browse through an old book, worn by so many painful readings. For the first time, she could not blame anyone, because - at last - she had written in her own book herself. Perhaps that was the final issue. How long could she had lived without taking control of her own destiny? First, she blamed her family and the wretched flaming curse. Then vampirism, then Gabriel, then Bran, London, all of the Trinity and their minions.

What now? After so many centuries unlived, how could she blame anyone for her pathetic story? Of course she was a child once and her family hated her. Of course the thirst of the Beast would drive anyone insane. Of course Gabriel, her mentor, was also a manipulative bastard. Of course she was binded by the Trinity's blood. But how many decades could all of this account for? Sooner or later, she should have stood up for herself, she knew she could have. Somewhere, somehow, Alice recalled she had her chance once. One time, she could have made a choice and embraced her opportunity.

Now she knew that what defines onself in life is one's most difficult decisions, especially when all is not laid out for you and those choices are made out of briliant conviction and not out of stiffling knowledge. Perhaps this was Gabriel's final lesson, the one she never understood until now. Instead she waited year after year, toiling in pain and blood, balancing her servitude and her authority, her reputation and her humiliation, her mere survival and the overbearing expectations that all the World of Darkness had of her.

It should not have come as a surprise for her that now it was too late.
She rejoined her party with a last smile. The wheels would turn once more, but she would not be here to see them turn again.