Chapter Text
What had his existence come to? Truly? He was collecting materials for a town of humans, giving them advice on farm placement, and providing them a source of warmth and a way to cook food that he couldn’t even consume.
Not to mention, the humans were certainly some of the oddest Scott has ever met in his centuries of life.
There was the farmer peasant, Cleo, with a distinct distaste for nobles. Not an uncommon opinion during Scott’s time, but certainly not one that was made quite as well known as she did. Disregarding their strong opinions, they were fairly tolerable so far.
The doctor, Legs, was rather unremarkable as of yet, if one were to ignore his tendency towards suggesting amputation as the solution for just about everything.
Martyn was one to keep an eye on. He could prove to potentially be of use, if his desire to please those of higher standing was any indication.
The butler’s butler was a bit of a mystery. Scott would wait before forming any strong opinions on Abolish for the time being.
Drift appeared relatively normal, all things considered, even if poorly dressed.
The wolf, Pearl, needed some people skills and fast, if the initial trauma dump was anything to go off of.
M seemed to live solely off of attention, fighting for it like a fledgling after its first meal.
Pyro, like Drift, could likely pass for normal if they were able to maintain a single second of eye contact while having any conversation.
Scott didn’t even want to think about Renhardt.
Miss Military Apo could do with being taken down a peg or two.
Owen desperately needed to be shown how to blend in or he’d get himself exposed, making it much more difficult for other vampires to hide amongst the humans.
And then there was the girl obsessed with big feet…
“Oh, hey!”
Speak of the human.
“Oh, hello.”
Shelby, as he had learned, was likely returning from resource gathering, if the wood in her hands was anything to go by. “I was wondering if anyone had gotten back yet.”
Nodding, Scott smiled back politely. “Yeah. Did you find the person with the biggest feet?”
That seemed to be the correct thing to ask, as their face lit up. Scott wasn’t even aware humans could emit light like that from her grin. “No, I still gotta check everybody’s shoe sizes, but I do think that somebody in here is not telling the truth… I think they’re either a mimic, um, or Bigfoot. And I’m gonna discover it, and I’m gonna make it big. I’m gonna get rich.”
So, she was even crazier than he initially thought… great.
“There’s a lot to unpack with that sentence. But sure…”
Her light dimmed, and her smile gained a somewhat crestfallen edge to it. “People say that a lot when they meet me.” A light laugh. “Or that I’m crazy.”
Shaking his head to reassure her, Scott let out a drawn out, “Nooo.”
Still slightly downtrodden, Shelby tried to laugh as she said, “I don’t know where they- what they’re thinking.”
“I wouldn’t say that~” Slightly under his breath, he added, “I would say other things”—returning to his usual volume—“but not that.”
“Nice things?” The light was attempting a return.
“Sure,” Scott placated. Looking around the dilapidated town, he shifted topics quickly. “So, which of these shacks are you taking?”
Shacks was being generous.
Looking around, effectively distracted, they tilted their head back and forth as they debated. “I hadn’t picked quite yet, actually. Probably a nice small modest one. Maybe if that little corner one’s not taken?”
The one she was pointing to was close enough to be within range of the other townsfolk but still on the outskirts to maximize what little privacy could be scrounged up in the circumstances. Not a bad choice all things considered.
“I do believe you are likely good. It does not look like it has been used for… ever.”
They continued speaking as they took note of the other plots claimed by other recent settlers. They spoke briefly with Pearl and Cleo, the former of which seemed entirely unbothered by their lack of a roof, instead replacing the dirt floor with some planks she had gathered. Why they decided to focus on the floor instead of the roof, Scott had no clue, but to each their own. With a quick farewell, Scott headed back out to chop down some more trees and mine some resources.
Contemplating the pros and cons of continuing this game when he had to interact with such unusual humans, Scott was almost too distracted to hear the stone shifting behind him. Almost.
He waited, biding his time until-
Scott stepped to the side quickly, leaving his sire to run straight into the wall containing the coal Scott had been attempting to gather.
“Scott~”
“My love~”
Rubbing his head, Avid rose to meet his own reddening eyes. Smirking, Scott stepped forward, resting his hand just under the gash that had formed above the other’s eyebrow. Pupils narrowing, not unlike that of a cat, Scott swiped a finger over the wound, licking the dripping blackish crimson from his finger. Straightening back up, Scott looked down at his sire, smirking, before offering a slab of beef he had gathered while foraging.
Taking the meat from him, Avid pouted, a look that suited the centuries old vampire much more than it should. “That was unnecessary.”
“That,” Scott grinned wider, “was karma.”
“Karma?”
Nodding, Scott turned away to continue collecting the coal he had been focusing on. “Karma.”
When it became clear he wasn’t going to expand any further, Avid pushed on. “For?”
“For the garlic, for the beacon, for instilling the idea of Vampyrs into the new townsfolk,” he listed, still mining the fuel.
Bright laughter was his answer. “So it’s karma for playing the game?”
Huffing as he finished collecting the coal, Scott turned around and retorted, “Karma for playing dirty.”
He only laughed more. Insufferable man.
Rolling his eyes, Scott began making his way out of the small ravine he had dropped into. Footfalls behind him told him that his love was following. “You love it when I play dirty, though.”
“I love it when I play dirty. I love it when you talk dirty.”
A stumble in the steps behind him. It was still so easy to fluster his love, even after so many centuries.
A cool hand encircled his wrist, pulling him back and pushing him against a nearby tree. Eyes widening, Scott stared at his sire as he looked back at him, a self-satisfied grin in place. Shaking off his stupor, Scott met his smirk with one of his own, leaning forward. “My love?”
Gaze fixed firmly on his mouth, Avid only released a questioning hum.
Lips brushing his own, Scott let loose a breath he didn’t need, prompting a shiver from his lover in front of him.
“I can smell that damned garlic in your pocket.”
Scott had shifted and swooped under Avid’s arm by the time he processed what had been said.
Laughter sounded behind him as Scott began his short flight back to town.
By the time he had returned, the sun had set. Flying over the woods, Scott watched as some of the humans below were forced to dodge hostile undead and spiders.
Upon his return, he took note of Cleo, Pearl, Apo, Drift, and Avid in front of the former two’s quickly improving house, now with a nearly complete roof, likely courtesy of Cleo, talking quite loudly. He must have gotten distracted by the amusing display of the humans running in terror for longer than he thought if Avid had the time to make his way back to town before him. Getting nearer, Scott noticed how Cleo was perched atop a block of what he could now identify as pure silver. His love, of course, had that gleam of mischief in his eyes that was typical during this game. The silver must have been his doing.
He suppressed a shiver at the block as he reached the small group, proclaiming, “The night is dark and full of terrors. Is it usually this scary out at night?”
Cleo was the first to answer, in the most lackluster way possible. “Yes.”
“Well, the moon’s not usually red. I can speak from experience.”
Of course you can, wolf woman.
“It’s a scientific phenomenon,” Legundo said as he walked up, “Very similar to an eclipse, but just off by a few degrees. It’s fine”
“Thank you for explaining it, Doctor,” Drift smiled, relieved at the rational, even if incorrect, response. “That’s what I was trying to tell Avid. He wouldn’t listen to me.”
“I went into a cave, and when I came out, there were the undead, spiders, and a red moon…”
“Vampyrs.”
Scott stopped in his tracks. Turning to look at his love, he did not even have to fake the confusion and incredulity that overtook his face. “What do you mean Vampyrs?”
It was Pearl who spoke next, right on the heels of Scott. “Why are you going on about vampires? I don’t know what you mean by that.”
Seemingly having taken on the role of mediator, Drift grabbed Avid’s arm before he could respond before saying, “Listen. We’re all just a little bit carriage-lagged. We need to just have a nice little rest. A good night’s sleep.”
Yeah. That was all it was. Certainly.
Looking straight at his sire, Scott stated calmly, “You sound like you would be quite good friends with the girl who likes big feet.”
“Me?”
Was I looking at you when I asked, Drift? “No. Avid.”
“The Bigfoot girl?!” Very subtle, my love. “Where is she?!”
“Oh, Avid,” Drift spoke, realizing her mistake. “Oh yeah, yeah, they would be best friends.”
“Where is she? She’s undermining—”
“She said her dad was murdered by a werewolf.”
They all stood in silence for a brief moment before Avid said, more quietly, “Okay. Actually, I would believe that. I feel really bad now that I made fun of Bigfoot.”
They both knew it was a possibility, after all.
There was a slight smirk audible in Scott’s voice when he bit back, “Yeah. Be more considerate of other people’s—”
Cleo interrupted him for the he-didn’t-even-know time today “Honestly, you guys are just jumping at shadows.”
“I’m not usually out at this hour.” A bold faced lie.
Adding to the paranoid persona he had developed, Avid asked, “Is the moon usually red? And bleeding?” Something that it used to not actually do when they were last awake. But the beacons were not yet there either so they were potentially connected.
“No. Everything has a scientific explanation. Everything can be explained.”
Of course, Doctor. Explain away.
“Exactly,” Drift nodded along.
Scott could tell Avid was having the time of his undead life with this. “Ok, explain that.” He gestured to the sky, to the moon in all its blood red glory. “Why is it doing that?”
“You understand the concept of an eclipse, right?”
“Yeah…”
Bullshit. Even I don’t know what that is, and I read quite a bit more than you do, my love. He sent the feeling down the bond to his sire. The twitch of his lips and his fingers was Scott’s indication the sentiment was received.
“This is an eclipse off by a few degrees. Light goes through the atmosphere—”
“Right.”
“—only the red wave band is not blocked, and therefore red. Simple.”
“Okay.”
“Science.”
While murmurs of agreement sounded, Avid shot Scott a look, as if to say, can you believe this guy?
Scott stifled a chuckle before deciding to feed into it. “That~”—a devious grin grew on his face—“or a blood vessel has popped in your brain, and it’s the blood overlaying your vision, and you are going to die.”
“It’s entirely possible. I can investigate if you’d like.”
There’s no way this man is a real doctor. Scott made all that shit up on the spot.
And as he knew he would, Avid played along. “I—I am perfectly healthy.”
Drift, in what could either be concern for a friend’s health, sanity, or a mix of both, looked to Avid and then the doctor. “We should book you an appointment. Honestly…?”
Under their breath, Scott heard Cleo mutter, “A blood vessel is going to pop in my brain in a second.”
Scott let out a small laugh as he nodded in agreement, emphasizing his exasperation. “Yeah…”
“This is ridiculous. These people”—she raised a hand in the direction of Drift, Legundo, and Avid as they continued debating the necessity of an appointment—“are ridiculous.”
Scott couldn’t agree more. He caught a slight smirk as Avid broke away from his roommate and the doctor to jump atop the silver block. Scott suppressed a wince at that, and he could tell his sire did too if the look in his eyes was anything to go off of. “If you feel in danger, just come near this big block, okay? That’s all I’m saying.” Dropping off the top, he finished, voice dripping with paranoia, “Just go near the block.”
Face fixed with what was definitely meant to be a reassuring smile, Drift nodded, grasping Avid’s hand with her own to begin dragging him over to their pitiful excuse for a house, “Alright, let’s get you home, buddy.” Pearl apparently took this as permission to do as she pleased, as she turned around and began chipping away at the silver monstrosity. Ignoring any protests and offering reassurances that they could make their own silver block, Drift waved back as they reached the door, pushing Avid inside, “Good night everyone!”
Scott could only laugh as he heard his love try to make Drift’s life more difficult by refusing to lay down, instead trying to convince her that they should be taking precautions against Vampyrs.
Cleo’s offer to punch Pearl to help her stop the compulsion to mine was concerning.
Pearl’s acceptance of the offer was even more so.
Had humans gotten weirder over the centuries or was this just a particularly odd bunch?
—_-+-_—
“So, why are you in Oakhurst?”
Pausing in his mining, Scott turned to look at the not-quite-fledgling, assessing. Owen had been the one to suggest designating a mining spot in town, but this was the first he had spoken to him since they had gotten below ground. They were certainly far down enough that not even Scott’s sire could hear them if he was in town at the moment. Had been for a while. He seemed to be trying to get a read on Scott from what he could tell. An oblivious not-quite-fledgling then. “Well, I was getting a bit bored of the manor life.” He shrugged before turning back to continue digging the makeshift mineshaft below town. “I wanted to see what was out there.”
Nodding as he reached a small vein of coal, Owen deviated his course slightly to gather what he could reach. “Oh, I salute you.”
Holding back a scoff, Scott dropped the handle of his pickaxe, observing the spot where the other half had embedded itself into the stone. “Well, you get used to a certain way.” Ignoring the light buzz under his skin where he gripped the silver pick, Scott heaved the broken tool from where it had cleaved into the wall with a strength well above that of an average human manor lord. “You eventually start wondering what else could be out there.”
Owen contemplated the display as he returned to the main path they were digging for the mineshaft. “I suppose…” They mined for a bit longer before Owen asked, “How close to the surface do you suppose we are?”
Humming lowly, Scott stretched his mouth in what he knew came off as a nervous but reassuring smile. “Still quite close, I believe.”
Owen nodded again, looking back the way they came, quite poorly attempting to hide a grin.
“What about you?” Owen dropped the expression as he turned to Scott, tilting his head curiously. “What brought you here?”
Scott watched him fail to suppress a wince. A sensitive subject, then. “I came home.”
They would definitely need to work on his masking and lying skills if this not-quite-fledgling was going to be joining the Goldsmith Coven. “This is your home?”
“It… used to be.”
“It does not appear as though anyone has lived here in… quite a few years.”
Nosing scrunching in what was likely irritation at having the questions turned to him, Owen gave a poor imitation of a smile. “No. Well, yes. It's been a long time since I have lived here.”
Seeing how far he could push it, Scott pressed, “But you do not look old enough for the town to have fallen into such disrepair since your absence. How long have you been away?”
Owen thought as he replied, “Like… forty or fifty years?”
A beat.
“Oh.”
“That sounds like an acceptable amount, right?”
Blinking at the young Vampyr’s idiocy, Scott asked, holding himself back, “You… don’t remember?”
Owen smiled tensely. “I’ve been away for a long time. The years catch up on you, and I was a boy when I left.”
Scott opened his mouth to reply before closing it. He tried a few more times to say anything, but he knew at this point he had to resemble an out of water fish.
Owen turned to him at his silence, face pinched in poorly masked frustration. “Scott…?”
“You are an awful human, do you know this?” He froze, eyes wide, only able to gawk at the older Vampyr. “Absolutely horrendous. Forty to fifty years? Truly? You can’t be this dense. There is no possible way. You look to be- what? Mid- to late-twenties? And you expect humans to believe you have been gone for nearly half a century? Did your Turning scramble your brain or something?”
He only continued to gawk. Scott raised a brow before gesturing at him to speak.
Owen blinked at him a few times, before his face began scrunching in shock and indignation and he just asked, “I’m sorry…?”
Dropping his face into one hand, Scott heaved a sigh before looking to the younger, hands steepled in front of him. “You should be.” That moderately annoyed look turned downright furious. “Take a moment, close your eyes, and listen. Can you do that?” After a beat, glare still in place, Owen tentatively nodded. “Good. Do it.” Scott watched as the not-quite-fledgling waited longer than necessary before he closed his eyes and did as he was told. “Now. Do you hear my heart beating?” Another hesitant nod. “What exactly is different about my heartbeat than that of the other imbeciles above us?”
Eyes scrunched in concentration, rage at being talked down to still clear in his face, Owen did not see Scott silently inch forward until he was a foot in front of the other. Owen shot his head up as it registered, almost falling back as he noticed Scott’s proximity if not for Scott catching him around his much too small frame.
“It’s too slow. Your heartbeat… it’s too slow to be that of a human.”
Nodding, his best over-exaggeratedly proud smile in place, Scott praised the younger, “Yes, good job. Which means?”
Swallowing, fury and annoyance wiped from his face, Owen spoke. “You’re not human.” Smile still firmly in place, eye twitching slightly at the drawn out conclusion, Scott nodded, encouraging him to keep going. “You’re a Vampyr.”
“There we go, fledgling.” He felt the younger tense up further in his grip at that. “Now, I know this is likely difficult to answer,”—Owen’s eyes widened, nerves clear—“but I need to ask: where is your sire?”
The other’s response was immediate. The hiss released was violent and enraged but, most of all, hurt as Owen began fighting his hold. He knew this would be a sensitive topic to broach. Eyes narrowing, Scott, tone laced with what Will he had left, let out a firm, “Fledgling.”
The other froze, hissing quieting to a low growl, his gaze, raging and terrified, nailed to the elder.
Scott slowly reached a hand up to his face. Owen flinched back, growl growing louder, prompting Scott to pause briefly. Staring at the other, Scott forced his gaze to soften from the annoyed glare he knew he was wearing to something more understanding.
“I am not doing this to harm you, or to anger you, but something is off.” Likely not the best phrasing if the affronted look the not-quite fledgling gave him said anything. “I don’t think there’s any more… graceful way to say this, but your scent is not that of a fledgling or a mature vampire, which is concerning. It indicates something likely went wrong either during or after your Turning.”
The younger’s eyes flashed before he recovered and shoved it down once more.
Bingo.
“So, while I know how troubling this may be for you”—Scott took a deep breath, the air filling his long dead lungs, grounding him—“I need you to try to tell me where your sire is?”
He watched as thoughts barreled through the younger’s head, eyes assessing Scott for longer than he would have liked. Owen seemed to find what he was looking for as he gave a small nod. Scott kept his face neutral, recognizing the not-quite fledgling was more perceptive than he had initially thought. Transparency was not Scott’s strong suit, but if that is what was needed to replenish his coven, stronger than before with bonds more loyal…
Keeping his hand where it was, hovering next to the other’s cheek, Scott waited for him to move first. As Owen hesitantly tilted his head toward the other’s hand, instincts clearly demanding attention from an elder Vampyr, sire or not, as his growl softening. He watched as the tension started to flood out of the young Vampyr before he spoke again.
“I know how hard this is, but could you try to tell me?” A beat of silence. “…Please?” The younger’s eyes scrunched before opening to look into Scott’s own, his assessing look back as he seemed to peer into his soul. “I do not say please very often…, but I would like to help, and I can only do that if I know how I can.”
He continued his assessment for another few seconds before seemingly finding what he was looking for. Nodding, more to himself, Owen began quietly, “They took him from me… They took him while I slept and burned him.” A shroud of fury and pure rage covered the younger’s face. “So, I killed them all. They took him from me, so I slaughtered them.”
Giving into his own instincts, letting a purr build up in pride, Scott took his face in both hands slowly, watching the anger recede. “Good job, fledgling. Good job. For telling me and for avenging your sire. Such a brave fledgling. So brave and so strong.” He watched as the younger’s eyes widened before crimson tears began to build up in his eyes. Realizing his own reaction, Owen dropped his head down to Scott’s chest, finally beginning to relax as Scott laid one hand on his head, letting his fingers trail along his scalp and through his hair. “Humans can be so cruel. You did so well.”
They stayed like that for a while, Owen cradled against him as Scott swayed and cooed at him. Scott spoke again a few moments after he felt a weak purr rumble from the younger, “You know, you do not have to be alone anymore. You could have a coven.” Pulling back a bit to see the younger’s face, despite the protesting cry, instincts clearly sinking in, Scott continued, “You could have a family.”
Blinking bloody tears from his eyes, Owen spoke up again, voice cracking, “A… family…?”
Nodding, smile still firmly fixed on his face, Scott responded gently, “You could. And you would not have to forget your original sire to do it.”
He saw hope flash in the younger’s eyes. “I wouldn’t…?”
“No,” Scott shook his head softly, “you would not. No matter what anyone says or does, he was your sire. But you need another sire to guide you now. An adoptive one, if you will. I can take you in, and you can join my coven. The Goldsmith Coven.” He saw doubt begin to seep into the other’s face. “You are in danger right now. A fledgling without a sire can not grow, they can not progress. You would stagnate and could turn into a…” Scott drifted for a moment before finishing quietly “…a Revenant.”
Confusion at that. “A Revenant?"
His sire truly had been taken as soon as he was turned. He knew nothing. “A crazed Vampyr, driven only by their hunger to feed on anything; human, animal, Vampyr, to them it matters not.”
He watched the other ponder for a moment. It would be difficult to process—the thought of having another sire—but if Owen wanted to live… this was his only option. He seemed to realize that as well.
“How would it work?”
Smiling softly, once more, Scott wiped the blood from his soon to be Childe’s face. “It would be quite similar to your initial Turning. You will likely sleep for a day or two as your body readjusts to the new bond. As your initial bond was never fully completed,”—he ignored the wince at that—“this will be easier than it typically would be. When you awaken, we will complete the bond by allowing you to siphon from me. You will be my Childe, and I will be your- one of your sires.” At Owen’s relieved nod, he continued explaining, “For the first few days, you will need to drink solely from me, as your body works to readjust. Then, we will introduce living blood to your diet and transition you primarily to that. During the next few years of your undead life, though, you will need to feed from me often, at least around once a week.”
“First few years?”
Did his sire not tell him anything about the Turning process beforehand? He wouldn’t be so irresponsible, would he? Shoving the questions aside, Scott nodded. “The first fifty years or so. By then, you should be able to survive on your own, with only the occasional drink once a month for the next fifty years. By the time you are around one hundred, you should be able to sustain yourself entirely.”
“But,” Owen looked confused, an adorable look for the frail looking fledgling, “I’m already two hundred so will I still follow that general timeline?”
Scott stiffened at the question. Two hundred. That explained the stale scent. He was a two hundred year old fledgling with an incomplete sire bond. How on Earth was he not a Revenant by now? Scott only let out a soft, “Oh?”
Owen nodded, face still scrunched, for once, missing Scott’s true feelings on the matter. “After I slaughtered them, I buried myself at our spot. I woke when the humans began approaching Oakhurst earlier.”
Scott let a soft coo escape as he pulled Owen back to him and let a purr build back up in his chest to calm the younger. “Yes, fledgling. You should have been doing this to begin with, but that was taken from you. I imagine the only reason you are still coherent is due to the… sleep…. you took.” He felt the younger nod against him. “I would suggest we wait until a proper structure is up so that your re-Turning will go smoother. What do you say?”
He felt the younger nod again as he began to plan. He would have to speak to his sire about nest placement. Their old nest was certainly cobwebs and mothballs by now but perhaps some of it was salvageable. They would also have to decide how to keep the humans unsuspecting while his soon-to-be Childe rested. It would not do to have them interfering. Scott would also have to feed a good deal more before the re-turning so that he can sustain both himself and Owen for the initial week.
It appeared Scott had a conversation due and preparations to make.