With hurried hands, Camellia packed her bag. She smiled.

Even though most of her clothes were not suitable for a fourteen-year-old, let alone city living, she didn’t mind. She took what she thought she could use. She could buy new things. Her father was sure to give her spending money, and Camellia would budget it all to clothes.

For now, Camellia had to take something. She couldn’t go naked. She picked two tea length dresses, with flower patterns. The patterns ever so slightly whispered ‘farmgirl,’ but they were better than the dresses that proclaimed ‘FARMGIRL!’

Camellia laughed.

She tossed the last loud dress onto her bed – a monstrosity patterned with corn.

She heard voices in the hall. Camellia paused to listen: a sister and...her mother. She couldn’t tell which sister she had heard. Some of her sisters had married into the family, and Camellia didn’t spend a great deal of time with them. But, whoever it was had said her mother’s name: Rodica. Even without the name, Camellia would have known her mother’s voice. It was among her favorite voices to hear.

Camellia kept her back to the door and worked on her bag. She heard someone enter the room. She paused and listened to the footfalls: her mother’s. That was alright then.

“Are you not taking any of these?” her mother asked.

Camellia glanced up. Rodica’s angular face looked more so, surrounded by all her dark wavy hair.

“I can’t wear patterns to my apprenticeship,” Camellia said.

“No?”

“No,” Camellia repeated.

“Well, what if we…”

“Mom, no,” Camellia said. “They’re too short anyway. I’m fourteen. I shouldn’t be wearing them at all.”

“Oh, Camellia. You can wear a shorter skirt till you’re sixteen and trust me, you should.” Her mom sighed. “I really miss the days that were acceptable for me to show my ankles. It’s so much cooler in the summer.” Her mom plucked one of the short dresses from the pile and tried to sneak it into Camellia’s bag. It was the corn dress.

Camellia grabbed it and tried to put it back. The dress twisted between the two women as they each tried to send it in its desired direction. Camellia wanted to laugh, half out of frustration and half out of a sense of fun.

“Mom, I’m going into a professional job. I can’t wear this. I have to wear full length skirts.”

“You can wear it to dig sites.” Rodica made one last attempt to get the dress in Camellia’s bag.

Camellia’s amusement evaporated. “Mom, no!” Camellia snatched the dress and held it up for her mother to really see. “Corn husks? Do you want them to call me Camellia of the corn?”

Rodica stood straight, trying not to smile. She succeeded. She seemed kind of sad. She took the dress and put it in the discard pile. “I think I have some long solid skirts that I don’t wear anymore. I hardly ever go into town. Let me get you some of those.”

Camellia felt like an ass, but she wanted those skirts. “I’d really like to have them.” She kept her eyes on her half empty bag. “I’ll use them everyday.”

“I know you will. You might have to hem them up a touch. I don’t think you’ll be quite as tall as me.”

Camellia looked at her mom. She was only about three inches off. She could probably manage the longer skirt for a while, or promptly buy three inch heels the minute she entered the city. Eventually, Camellia would hem them, but it was such a pain. She wished she had been more prepared, but her teacher gave her barely two-days notice of her pick up.

Rodica brushed a hand through Camellia’s hair. “I’m very happy for you, but please don’t forget to write and visit. I’ll miss you.”

Camellia just nodded.

“It’s really important to me,” Rodica added.

“I’ll do my best.”

Rodica smiled. “Let me get those skirts.” She left the room.

Camellia ran around and snatched up the last of her things. She left a space for the promised skirts in her bag. Then, she sat on her bed.

Camellia liked the farm, but not well enough to stay forever. She had been offered a chance at a different, better job by a vampire archaeologist named Sorin. Most vampires in Groaza knew each other, and Sorin knew her father. Sorin visited them for the summer and had told her father she would make a good anthropologist. To Camellia’s surprise, her father agreed to let her go. Camellia felt so grateful to Sorin and, she supposed, her father as well.

Sorin couldn’t be her teacher. The AAH forbid it, but she would see him a lot. Camellia smiled. She would also escape the farm and do something more important with her time. Camellia liked both prospects.

“I see you are quite happy to be leaving us.”

Camellia looked up. Her father stood in the doorway. A rectangle of light stretched over the floor between them. He avoided the twilight and inched into the room. Camellia jumped up and adjusted the curtain to give him more room to walk.

“Now, Camellia. I would like you to study hard and have a good time. You may also spend time with Sorin, but make sure you have a chaperone, until you are of age.”

Camellia still stood at the window, holding the fabric closed against the sunset. Camellia looked back and nodded. “I will.”

“I also have a present for you.”

Camellia perked up.

Her father reached into his breast pocket and pulled a chain from within. The chain wrapped around his fingers and a pendant dangled.

Camellia came closer and peered at the pendant – some kind of red jewel in a clear bubble, perhaps of glass.

“It’s pretty.” Slowly, Camellia grasped it.

Viorel smiled. “It’s not just pretty. It’s the daywalker’s stone.”

Camellia gaped and froze before she could completely claim the necklace.

“Go on. Take it.”

Camellia pulled the chain from his hand and fingered the pendant.

“Now, Camellia. This necklace is yours. It’s a secret. Don’t show it to any vampire, not even Sorin. I know he wouldn’t take it from you, but he likes to talk. He might let it slip that you have the pendant. Then, who knows what vampire you would have after you.”

Camellia nodded.

Viorel gestured to himself. “I may be the most powerful vampire in this area, and I can protect you from the nearby werewolves and others that might do you harm, but I am far from the most powerful vampire in Groaza.”

Again, Camellia nodded.

Viorel put one finger on the pendant. “Show this to no one.”

“Why...Why are you giving it to me?” Camellia asked. She wanted to keep the daywalker’s jewel – badly. But, she didn’t want to be the target for predators.

“You need this to do your job. Sorin is an archaeologist, and he struggles sometimes to do his job with only the night available to him. You are a strong dhampir. You get drowsy during the day more so than your brothers and sisters. You need this to succeed.”

“I understand. I’ll hide it when I wear it.”

“Good. You will need it most the further south you go. The seasons do not change drastically, and the days do not become so long. But, it’s much hotter. The sun can be strong.” Viorel gently probed Camellia’s mind.

She let him have a look at her excitement, confusion, and curiosity. And, now, a little fear.

“That’s why Sorin spends so much of his time at the midpoint of our world. The nights are consistent.”

“That makes sense,” Camellia agreed.

“Viorel?” Rodica stood in the doorway.

Camellia’s father turned. Rodica held cloth of grey, brown, and black. Camellia looked harder and also saw a simple dress of white.

Rodica walked into the room and handed Camellia the clothes. As Camellia folded and packed them, she listened to her parents talk.

Rodica looked at the ground when she talked to Viorel. “We need to get her out the door. Both Sorin and her teacher are here. I didn’t catch his name. Cern-something. They want to leave soon.”

Camellia could feel her mother stealing glances.

“Yes, but before she goes...” Viorel’s sentence trailed off.

Camellia closed her bag and turned to face her parents. She was greeted by a wad of cash in her father’s hands.

“You use this wisely too,” he ordered.

Camellia took it. “I will.”

“We love you.” Viorel said, with the most warmth Camellia had felt from him all night.

“I’m going to miss you.” Rodica hugged Camellia.

She did a good job hiding her tears, but still, Camellia could smell the salt. She let her mother have the moment.

“I love you too,” Camellia promised.