Crimson Petals: Vlad the Impaler's Gentle Echoes

Previously

…The sea churned, indifferent, but a seed of something, not hope exactly, but a deep, resonant peace, had been planted within me. The prejudice and hatred that had chased us from Canada, the shame that clung to my father like a shroud, the fear that had been a constant companion since the attack – they still existed, but they no longer held absolute dominion. Vlad’s silent vigil was a testament to a strength that was far older, far more profound than the ephemeral judgments of men. He was an echo, yes, but an echo that resonated with the enduring power of the crimson petals he had once so fiercely guarded. And in that echo, I found a fragile, but persistent, strength.