That was a heartbreaking episode, but it does bring up an interesting point that I had never thought about. Personal ethics vs the protection of all and how hard it must be for Wessen that have a history of Alzheimer’s of dementia.

The episode was indeed heartbreaking. It was also a very uncomfortable episode for me to watch for a lot of reasons. I mean…on the one hand Rosalee and Monroe truly care for each other and were following each other’s wishes when they made that commitment to one another.

On the other hand, one of the problems with euthanasia practices is that elderly and/or disabled people, especially those with mental illness, dementia, or other such problems are especially vulnerable to abuse of any kind. There’s an ugly tendency in Western culture–and other cultures, I’m sure–to devalue human beings who don’t meet a certain standard of health or “productivity” as burdens or even dangers to society who are unworthy of life.

There are very real concerns among the disabled and mentally ill communities about euthanasia, precisely because of those attitudes and because of the risk of disabled people being euthanized against their will or pressured into choosing euthanasia by family members who don’t want the burden of caring for them.

So watching an episode that validated that narrative by depicting elderly victims of dementia as literal murderers was extremely disturbing to me. The episode treated euthanasia completely uncritically, as necessary and merciful without any caveats, and even dismissed criticism of it as outsiders just “not understanding” a community’s needs.

That was horrifying. And that horror undercut the episode’s emotional punch for me, because the whole time I was sitting there as a chronically ill person thinking about the message it was sending about people like me, whether intentionally or not.

Blood magic is not evil. Blood magic is not good. Blood magic is realistic. For every action every living thing takes, a price must be paid. To eat in the winter, you must work in the summer. To feed your family, you must purchase a sheep. To defend your village, you must slaughter your enemy.

There is always a price to be paid. By the sweat of your brow, the coin in your pocket, or the blood in your veins, the cost must be met.

Spells, potions, incantations, all of it comes at a cost. Power alienates the fearful. You risk losing pieces of your soul when you delve into the dark. Your very life can be at stake when performing these rituals. All of this is the cost greatness demands. Blood Magic holds no illusions that magic is easy or benign, and those who seek knowledge from these pages must adopt a morality apart. You will stray from the world and all you know. You will damn what you once held dear and be damned by it. This is but the first price you pay.

Blood is currency. The act of presenting this most vital part of oneself as payment shows an understanding that you will give everything of yourself.

from “Blood Magic: The Price” in Catherine Schade’s black grimoire