December 31, 1996 
11 : 48 p.m. 

Las Vegas: Stacey West walked into the throne room of the new Prince with a smile on his face, carrying in his hands a sack from which something dark dripped onto the floor. He was weak and pale, bleeding from a dozen wounds in addition to the disease that ravaged his body. He no longer cared, however. It was finally over, and soon his 
suffering would end. He would live forever, and with his help, Sasha would too. Nearly all of his allies had died tonight, but Stacey felt no regrets. He had never cared for the Banker and his crew, or the other ghouls in his company. Stacey had had no friends for a long time now, not since Josephine died and Steven had betrayed him. He didn't even 
have Sasha right now, but that would change once he was promoted. Sonny wouldn't be able to stop him from taking her back then. He smiled wider at the thought of the pimp begging for his life. 
 
 

Dallas: Steven Carroll walked into the throne room of the Inner Councilor. He was dressed in the white robes of the initiate, and his face was grim. Tonight would be the final ceremony in his introduction to the true heart of his House and Clan. As the witching hour fell and a new year began, Steven was to be Embraced. He found it especially fitting that today was his birthday, but no hint of this was betrayed on his 
countenance. If there was one thing Steven understood, it was how to follow proper procedure. As the door closed behind him, he walked into the circle on the floor where Abraham stood, and knelt in front of him, facing Meerlinda's throne. The entire chamber was filled with a palpable sense of the raw power she commanded. Deep inside of 
Steven, a mixture of awe and fear arose at the thought of commanding even a portion of that power himself. And as he looked down in submission, he permitted himself the briefest of smiles. 
 
 

11 : 50 p.m. 

Las Vegas:  Stacey stood in front of Sean's throne of scorched metal and velvet cushions. The Prince had looked up as he had entered, anxious to hear how the final assault had gone. Sean looked at Stacey for a moment, reading his thoughts, no doubt. Stacey tried his best to focus on the attack, keeping the thoughts about his reward in the 
background. Sean finally spoke. "This is the best you have to offer? How can I rest on such failure?" 

"It wasn't our fault. Jude somehow knew about the attack beforehand.
Someone in our organization must have leaked the information to her. This piece of shit's last words were that she had fled to her sire in Reno. The city is yours, Sean. That ambush was just her way of saying goodbye." 
 
 

Dallas: "Rise, apprentice, and prepare yourself for the next phase of your enlightenment." At these words, Steven rose and faced Meerlinda. Abraham stood next to him, draped in black robes with the red trim which marked his office. 

Meerlinda spoke. "For what reason do you present this apprentice to me? Why is he fit to join the undying majesty of House and Clan Tremere?" Steven knew this was all formality. Permission had been given for his Embrace a week ago, just after the Solstice Rites. Still, he was pleased to have his accomplishments read before the other magi of the Chantry. 

Abraham began, "Steven Carroll is hereby presented for the rank of magus on the following grounds: assistance in the development of the Las Vegas chantry, sensitive information on the power structure of Las Vegas, saving the life of the new Regent of the Miami chantry during her stay in Las Vegas, the conversion of the main library of this chantry to an electronic format and the institution of similar procedures amongst several other chantries, theories and experiments resulting in a new direction of Thaumaturgical studies, and loyal service as a ghoul of three separate magi, myself included." 
 
 

11 : 55 p.m. 

Las Vegas: Sean seemed to consider this. "Show me what you've brought back."  Stacey opened the sack and pulled out Whitefang's dripping head. "And Joseph?", Sean asked. 

"The last I saw, Gwen was drinking him dry." "Interesting. How many did you face?" 

Stacy made a quick count of their opponents in his head. "Fifteen. Five vamps, including Whitefang and Joseph, and ten of their ghouls. It would have gone easier if the place hadn't been rigged." Stacey shuddered at the remembrance of the explosion that had killed four of the Banker's men. He didn't care for them, of course, but they would have been good to have in the firefight that followed. 

"Who survived?" 

"Gwen and Trevor both made it. One of the Banker's men, Emilio, I think. The Banker himself was destroyed. As for our ghouls: Wade, Keith, Tamer, and myself. Everyone else is dead." 

"What a shame," Sean said. "I had just started to complete my theories of probability dynamics within the organization." 
 
 

Dallas: "For such service, I hereby grant your request and allow you to take this apprentice as your new childe." 

"Thank you, my lady Councilor." Abraham and Steven turned to face each other. The magi gathered in a circle about them began chanting a 
traditional ritual of blessing, while Steven removed his white robes and Abraham anointed his body with various magical oils to help ensure his successful transformation. When he was finished, the chanting around them began to rise in volume, soon reaching a frenzied pitch. This was unlike anything Steven had ever seen from the normally calm chantry members, but he realized that a new childe was a rare thing in an established chantry such as Dallas, and the presence of Meerlinda invited a strict obedience to the formal rituals. Suddenly the chanting stopped, and as Steven stood naked and willing before him, Abraham bared his fangs and approached. Somewhere, a clock began to slowly chime twelve times. 
 
 

January 1, 1997 
12 : 00 a.m. 

Las Vegas:  Sean suddenly bared his fangs and lunged at Stacey. As they entered his neck, Stacey felt a subtle bliss overwhelm him, and everything began to grow dim. His breath slowed, and he died in the Prince's arms. Sean bit into his own wrist, forcing some of the blood into Stacey's mouth. As Stacey's body jerked with new life, Sean let him fall to the floor. Stacey rose, confused and unsteady. Slowly, he realized what had just occurred. He was truly immortal now. His head hurt, and it was all he could do to hold back his hunger. Even so, he felt great. Damn the AIDS, and Sonny, and everybody else who had fucked him over! He was going to live forever. As tears of blood streamed down 
his cheeks, he began to laugh. 
 
 

Dallas:  Steven rose from the floor, and Abraham wrapped him in the plain black robes of a beginning magus. Steven no longer heard his heartbeat, and his lungs no longer ached for breath, yet he was alive. The Embrace had been successful. He was no longer just a ghoul, but truly part of the Clan he had served these past months. His heart swelled with pride as he stretched his cold limbs. He turned to face Meerlinda again, to swear the final oath and recite the Code of Tremere. He had been practicing since he had been informed he was to be promoted, and had the entire Code memorized. 

Facing the throne, he began, "I, Steven Carroll, hereby swear my everlasting loyalty to House and Clan Tremere and all its members. I am of their blood, and they are of mine. We share our lives, our goals, and our achievements. I shall obey those the House sees fit to name my superiors, and treat my inferiors with all the respect and care they earn for themselves. I will not deprive nor attempt to deprive any member of House and Clan Tremere of his magical power. To do so would be to act against the strength of our House. I will not slay 
nor attempt to slay any member. . ." 

Abraham was pleased to see a childe who did not need to be prompted in reciting the Code. It was a sure sign he had chosen well. 
 
 

12 : 10 a.m. 

Las Vegas: Stacey walked out of the casino and into the parking garage. Sean had been gone when he had calmed down. But at least the Prince was satisfied with the results. Stacey's promotion was proof of that. Sean had other things to worry about, Stacey supposed. The Setites, the Giovanni, the possibility of a threat from Reno, finding Jude, 
and rooting out the traitor in their midst. The work never ended, it seemed. Stacey didn't care, though. Right now, all he wanted was to get some blood, get a fast car, and get Sasha back. The car he could get here, he decided, breaking the window of a nearby Porsche and getting in. He tore one of those stupid club-things off the steering wheel and hot-wired the car. 

As he peeled out, taking off down the Strip towards North Vegas, his hunger returned. He knew how to fix that, though. He headed straight for Sonny's place, to get his revenge and reclaim Sasha. Turning the stereo up, he grinned, his fangs bared, and laughed like a madman into the wind that whipped through the broken window. The endless lights of Vegas shone down on him, drowning out the stars. Eternity stretched before him like the road he sped down. He could hardly wait. 
 
 

Dallas: ". . .and woe to me if I succumb to such temptation." Steven finished. 

Meerlinda gestured and a chalice of liquid appeared before her. She pressed her fingernails into her palm and some of her blood flowed into the glass. "Childe, step forward." Steven stepped out of the circle and stood before the Councilor. "This is the mixed blood of the Council. Drink it and prove your loyalty." 

Steven took the glass and drank. The power of such ancient vitae washed over him, raising his hunger again. But then Meerlinda touched his shoulder and the hunger stopped instantly. She had a puzzled 
look on her face. "You have forgotten something." It was a statement, not a question.  Steven wondered what he had done wrong, but the Councilor smiled at him. "Nothing you have done, childe. Something that has been done to you." Her voice dropped to a whisper and she looked right into his eyes. "Remember." 

It was like a dam had burst in Steven's mind. Two weeks flooded into his mind instantly, weeks filled with strange images of space and horrible fighting, things that shouldn't exist, odd technologies Steven couldn't understand. And as he remembered, some hidden part of his soul burst into a flame that filled his mind. He could see the universe as it truly was, see the infinite possibility. And then, as it seemed he was on the verge of awakening from some strange dream, the hunger reared its head again, its darkness swallowing the strange fire and drowning it out. He was brought crashing back to the world around him. He shook his head to clear it, and mumbled some thanks to the Councilor for restoring his memory. He needed time to puzzle out what had happened during those weeks he had just remembered. Had he really been in space? It was all so strange. Something had changed inside him, that was for sure. 

A girl was bound and gagged on the table when he and Abraham walked into the laboratory. Steven leapt on her and drained her dry with a fury born of hunger. When he realized what he had done, he began to cry until he saw that the tears were blood. There was something he could do for her, though. It wasn't much, but it would be better than death. With a nod to his sire, he cast the ritual to bind her soul to her body, so that Abraham could reanimate her as a corpse minion. He found no comfort in the familiar words of the ritual tonight, however. He needed to understand the strange vision he had. 

The workings of  the chantry seemed somehow dull and repetitive. His period of service would end in a few months, though, a year and a day after he first began serving the clan. And what was a few months to someone who had forever? He would then be free to carry out his own studies. Perhaps he would set up a workshop of his own, somewhere quiet, a place where he could look at a sky full of endless stars forever, to find the truth that waited somewhere among them, just beyond his reach. As he helped Abraham reanimate the girl's body, he found he could hardly wait. 
 
 

---

All Material is © Conrad Hubbard.
Duality was written by Matthew Harper
for use with the Daylight Army
the Las Vegas by Night chronicle
developed by Conrad Hubbard.

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Conrad Hubbard, Editor
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