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change. Sophocles’ sphinx challenged and ate the townsmen who could not solve his riddle on the stages of man. Growing from child, to adult, to old age is a gift that completes a perfect circle—with each chapter, experiencing life through changing eyes. An infant’s senses are vivid putting everything in their mouth and watching the most mundane thing with fascination. A child has the pleasure of viewing the world with newness and awe. Adults have the wisdom to combine all of their knowledge and experiences into finding worth among the earth. The elders sit back and watch all that has transpired with a renewed outlook and remembrance. Placing a value on humanity and all its riches.
    We are finding our stages of life and our own worth in this existence. Like the struggles of mankind, we make our own mistakes.  Longevity does not make us infallible or omniscient. Many vampires search for purpose or find mischief to fill the long years.  The truly unlucky wretches find madness, like Vadim.
    Sarah’s death brought on the madness.  A vampiric condition I have only heard about on the whispers of the tempests that blow my way from time to time.  I should have been more wary of his propensity for such a thing.  The signs were visible, but I only realized them as an afterthought, stretching and reaching for puzzle pieces that eventually spelled out dementia.  A fate that, if I had a choice, to me would be considered worse than that of a Revenant.  Humans brought back to life as the undead. A minion or servant heeding commands and living off of the baser human instincts. Destruction, killing, and bloodlust—with no conscience or sense.  The vampiric madness is a most foul disease. I pity all those who suffer from it and the humans that cross their paths.
    Me, on the other hand ; he was almost successful in ending me.  Stopping my plight to undo the wrongs others have suffered at his immortal hands. My situation is more unfortunate because the creature’s life he chooses to change the destiny of is a goddess of goodness and knowledge.  Her breath alone can change the scope of the universe.  It is enticing and sinful to someone like me who once walked as a man...
    Her likeness to that of Vadim ’s love, Sarah, is not lost on me.  I see the connectedness.  Vadim is showering his wrath and frustration in a delusional fixation to cause destruction and pain on this pure being.  A girl in boy’s clothes that sleeps restlessly against a worn balustrade.  My keen hearing listens to her light breathing, preparing myself for when the unconsciousness comes.  The bouts are fewer and farther between as my eternal body heals itself in an immortal respite.
    It is time. My body grows heavy and the urge to repose is great. I stand and mentally prepare myself for oblivion. I cast off my jacket and roll up my sleeves from habit. The bed is made up of fine sheets. I lay upon them and slip away.
    Sybrina:
    Ishmael and Queequeg’s first meeting initiates a strong guttural laugh from my audience.  It pleases me to see them so highly amused, but my eyes are heavy, tired.  The night is waning and I am feeling the exhaustion that accompanies a full day. An hour passes and at a natural break in the reading, Mr. Tinker speaks.
    “ It’s time for the crew to get back to their stations. The boy is tired,” he announces.  He rises and takes the tome from my hands.  He places a wayward piece of straw in it, marking my last spoken page.  “Let’s get you to bed, son.”  Everyone stands and stretches, as a murmur of discussion about the reading runs through the sailors.
    I scrabble down from my perch and walk side by side with Mr. Tinker.  The crew scatters , going to their duties or bunking down for the night.  The stars are crisp and high in a shimmering and awe-inspiring vision.  I gaze up to absorb their beauty and trip over my own feet.  Mr. Tinker steadies me, sending me a perplexing look.  He doesn’t voice anything,