He dreamed again, and this dream was a whirl of chaos. The city streets spun around him, became the walls of Aidan's house, Raven lunged at him again, laughed over him, but her head hung to the side, her neck still broken. The other vampires rose up around her and laughed too. The stars were overhead, and they began, one by one, to turn into drops of blood that fell down on him, leaving him spattered in red. Aidan, also covered in gore, laughed and said "Come, make your choice!"

"I don't understand!"

"Choose!" shouted the circling, laughing vampires, "Choose, choose, choose!" and the whole room spun, and the sky above, and all the stars had fallen as a red rain of blood and David cried out in frustration and leaped at the mocking undead.

And suddenly he was out in the still and silent desert, the stars were where they belonged above, twinkling and pale as they should be, and the Hunter stood before him, a dark, broad-shouldered shape against the stars. He repeated, "Come, make your choice," and the slow, calm words echoed in the silence of the empty desert.

And David understood.

"Yes," he said softly. The single syllable fell out into the still night, and it rang like a bell, the sound growing and growing, the whole world vibrating, shivering into blurred indistinctness until it blurred into nothing and was gone.

David woke up with the feeling that the bell-clear ringing had been real, that he had only just missed hearing it when he woke. He felt almost as though he was still in the dream. The sense of clarity was still with him. He knew. And then he shuddered. He'd finally realized what the dreams wanted him to do, what he, himself, wanted to do, and he knew also why he'd been resisting knowing, though the message was obvious.

He wanted to go and ask Aidan about it, but the vampire was, of course, still asleep. So instead he picked up the sword and went outside. As the day waned he swung it experimentally, hacked at a tree for a bit, then swished it through some tall, standing weeds. It cut through them in a satisfying manner. He swung the sword, getting used to the way it felt in his hand, the way it moved. It was fun, to spin, swishing it dramatically through the air.

He stopped, panting a bit, as full darkness fell.

"You know, if you want to learn to use that, I could teach you. But I'd suggest that you clean it off first thing. All that sap on it is definitely not good for the blade."

"Um, sorry," said David, turning around and blushing in embarrassment.

Aidan grinned. "I understand the impulse. I had a katana when I was a teenager, and I murdered many a weed with it."

"What's a katana?"

"That is." Aidan gestured at the sword. "It's one of the names for that sort of sword."

"Oh."

"Would you like me to teach you how to use it?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I think I'd better start by showing you how to properly clean and care for it. Come on."