None dared break the quiet that had befallen the church. The novices stood frozen, their minds reeling with the implication that lunar vampires could reach beyond the veil of memory and into the real world. Sister Maria’s hand trembled as she made the sign of the cross, her lips moving in a silent prayer.

Rowena pushed herself to her feet, wincing slightly. Her eyes never left Dante as she approached him cautiously. The vampire seemed lost in his own world, his silver eyes unfocused and distant.

"Dante," Rowena said softly. "Are you alright?"

At the sound of his name, Dante blinked, coming back to himself. He looked around, seeming surprised to find himself still in the church. His gaze settled on Rowena, and a glimmer of recognition passed across his face.

"I apologize," he said, his voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to show you all that. Sometimes the memories... they have a life of their own."

Sister Agnes, emboldened by curiosity, took a tentative step forward. "Was she real?" she asked, her voice a whisper. "That woman, Lucia?"

Dante's expression softened, a sad smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "As real as you or I," he replied. "Though perhaps not in the way you might think."

The silence that followed was heavy with unasked questions. Rowena could feel the weight of several lifetimes in Dante's gaze, the burden of experiences too vast for a mortal mind to comprehend. She wanted to reach out to him, to offer some comfort, but she hesitated, unsure of how he might react.

Sister Maria was the first to break the spell. She cleared her throat, her voice still shaky but gaining strength. "I think... I think perhaps we should all retire for the night. It's been a most unusual evening."

The other sisters murmured in agreement, casting furtive glances at Dante as they filed out of the room. Soon, only Rowena, Dante, and Sister Agnes remained.

"You're welcome to stay the night," Sister Agnes offered, her eyes darting between Rowena and Dante. "We have spare cells, and it's far too late to be traveling."

Rowena nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Sister. We'd be most appreciative."

As Sister Agnes led them to their quarters, Rowena couldn't help but notice the way Dante's gaze lingered on the shadows, as if expecting to see something lurking in every corner. She wondered how many memories, how many ghosts, he carried within him.

Their cells were small and sparse, but clean and comfortable enough. Rowena sat on the edge of her narrow bed, her mind whirling with the events of the night. She had come to this place seeking answers, but now she found herself with even more questions.

A soft knock at her door roused her from her thoughts. "Come in," she called softly.

Dante entered, his tall frame seeming to fill the entryway. He looked... not exactly uncomfortable, but uncertain, as if he wasn't quite sure of his place in this world of mortals and faith.

"I wanted to apologize again," he said, leaning against the wall. "For what happened earlier. I should have better control."

Rowena shook her head. "There's no need to apologize. If anything, I should thank you. You've given me a glimpse into a world I could never have imagined."

Dante's lips quirked in a wry smile. "Sometimes, ignorance is bliss."

They lapsed into silence, but it was a comfortable one. Rowena found herself studying Dante's face, trying to reconcile the man before her with the creature she had seen in those vivid memories.

"Dante," she began hesitantly, "is there something else bothering you?"

Dante sighed, moving to the small window and gazing out at the night sky. "I've been... searching for something, Rowena. A way to end this cursed existence."

Rowena's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean... a cure? For vampirism?"

Dante nodded, his expression grave. "For centuries, I've been looking for a way to break the curse of the lunar vampire. To find a way to die a mortal death. Recently, I received a cryptic note from my sire, hinting at a possible solution. That is why I found myself in your quaint little town… until I ran into some old friends.” 

Before Rowena could respond, a sudden fluttering at the window interrupted them. A small, dark shape tapped insistently at the glass. She recognized it soon after. 

"It's one of my familiars," she explained, quickly opening the window.

A nightjar fluttered inside and settled on the back of a chair. To Dante's surprise, it spoke in a soft, whispering voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Exorcist Rowena. A message from Father William," the bird said. "Strange occurrences in Millbrook. Disappearances. Investigate immediately."

The nightjar fell silent, its message delivered. Rowena stroked its feathers absently, her brow creased in thought. Suddenly, an idea struck her.

"Dante," she said, turning to him with renewed energy, "have you ever heard of Dr. Elias Thornbury?"

Dante shook his head, taking a seat at the far edge of the bed. "No, I don't believe so. Why do you ask?"

"He's a physician I've heard about in my travels," Rowena explained. "Rumor has it he's quite knowledgeable about... unusual conditions. Lately, he’s been working on a cure for ‘daylight sickness.’ Perhaps he might have some insight into your situation?"

Dante's eyes lit up for a moment. "It's worth investigating," he said. "Do you know where I might find this Dr. Thornbury?"

Rowena nodded. "Last I heard, he was running a temporary clinic in a town not far from here. It's on my way to investigate these occurrences for Father William."

"Then it seems our paths align for a bit longer," Dante said with a small smile.

"Indeed," Rowena agreed. "We can travel together until we reach the town, then I'll continue on to Millbrook while you seek out Dr. Elias."

“A wonderful plan.”

“Wait…” Rowena raised a finger in concern. “Should we leave at night?”

“Why would we do that?” Dante asked, raising a brow. 

“You are a vampire. They are weak to the sun, are they not?” 

“Most earth-born revenants, yes. They will turn to dust upon contact with sunlight. For us of the lunar variety, our abilities are simply lessened during the day.” Dante shrugged. “They are borne of a virus, we are borne of magic.”

“Ah, one a dark gift, one a gift of light,” she remarked. “Two species of vampire.” 

“Both a curse upon humankind.” Dante’s expression was grim. 

“We haven’t known each other long, but… you are not responsible for the actions of your kind,” Rowena said. “If we judged each other based on the worst of us, there would be no goodness left in the world.”

Dante blinked. “I… well. That’s an interesting way of thinking.” He stood, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, for your conversation. Get some rest. We will set out at dawn, yes?” 

“Yes.” Rowena smiled. 

As Dante left to return to his own cell, Rowena found herself staring out the window, into the vast darkness beyond. She had been an exorcist for years now, investigating all manner of strange and supernatural, protecting the peace and eliminating any threats to the mortal world. Dante represented the other world, and the danger that came with it. Yet, despite his immense power, he did not feel dangerous. His presence was almost calming, and his knowledge seemed like it could fill even the Great Library of Alexandria. Now, with this new directive from Father William, she sensed that she was on the brink of something much larger, much more profound than she had encountered before.

The nightjar hopped onto her shoulder, its weight barely noticeable. "Be careful in Millbrook," it said, its voice like rustling leaves. "Father William’s full message will be delivered in the morning. I advise you to take heed of his warning."

Rowena nodded, her resolve hardening. "I will," she murmured. “Say… what are your thoughts on Dante, the man that was just in this room? You generally do not say your messages out loud if someone is present.” 

The bird cocked its head, its ear-like feathers standing on end. “What man?” 

“The really tall one I was speaking with just moments ago. Who else?”

The nightjar was silent. “I had assumed you were reading a book out loud. Or speaking to yourself.” 

“...What?”

“I did not see a man, nor anything out of the ordinary,” the familiar said. 

“Strange…” Rowena said quietly. “What do you know about vampires?” 

“Aside from folklore, I do not have record of real vampires. If they exist, I do not have sufficient evidence to prove it.”

“I see.” Rowena smirked. “That explains a lot. Goodnight, Yesod.” 

“Sleep well, Exorcist Rowena.” With its duty done, the nightjar flew out the window and disappeared from view. 

Rowena let out a quiet sigh, then prepared herself for bed. Sleep was long in coming, and when it did, Rowena's dreams were filled with swirling mists and half-glimpsed figures. She saw a woman with olive skin and deep brown eyes, haunted by a life of sorrow. Her hair was long and dark, with waves that fell almost perfectly down past her shoulders. The woman had one of her hands clasped around Rowena’s, while her other hand placed small precious stones into the slots of an archaic fan-shaped mirror. 

The woman noticed Rowena’s gaze, and then turned to her. “Every mirror is a door, every reflection a possibility. The trick is knowing which ones to step through.”  

Whatever the woman said next had seemed even stranger to her at the time, but as dawn’s light crept in through the windows, the rest of the dream had been lost to the darkest corners of memory, leaving Rowena only with a sense of wonder and the warmth of a love that could only be given by a mother.