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Scott idly wanders his castle's ruins. The reconstruction efforts have only just started and materials have barely been gathered for a basic wall. It irks him, seeing his castle so desecrated. Don't people know good craftsmanship when they see it? Honestly! Humans these days. Pyro is supposed to be out marking where the castle walls will sit, but Scott has a feeling he has a shadow following him.
He hums, noticing an odd divot in the floor ahead, a small piece of hallway relatively intact, despite the years of decay. Without another thought, he lunges to the other side. He has a sneaking suspicion it's a trap one of the witches set in case he woke up. It's surprising it's still there, but he has no intention of seeing if it's still functional. There's a bookshelf ahead and he wants to know if any of the books he can see are actually books he can read or one of those dreaded holy words that keep popping up.
The bookshelf creaks as he approaches, his footsteps, while silent, bringing weight to the ancient stone floor that most likely has a sinkhole forming under it. He hums, reaching a clawed hand up to the shelf at eye level and hovering it over the spines of the few remaining books. One is a rich purple and seems newer than the others. He doesn't do something as pedestrian as shrug, but he does quirk an eyebrow and slots a claw on the top, pulling it from the shelf.
The shelf creaks again, more ominously. He glances at it and turns to go down the corridor back towards the crypt.
"On the Care and Keeping of Hunt Watchers? It's been a very long time since I've heard that term," he muses. Turning to the first page of the tome, an artistic rendition of what looks to be a hybrid of a rat and a human stands with a spear under the title. Interesting. He moves to turn the page when a yelp and thud grab his attention. Tch.
He looks over his shoulder, finding a cloud of dust and the previous divot in the floor he avoided a massive hole. He slides the tome into the pouch on his side and strides over to the hole in the floor. He was correct, a sinkhole was forming under the floor. But there is nobody in the actual sinkhole to be the source of the yelp, and no animal either. He hums, furrowing his brows and trying to stare deeper into the hole. Dust wafts into his face and he grumbles, taking a step back and waving a hand in front of his eyes. His ears perk up at another yelp, this one quieter but much closer than the last. Interesting.
He looks down and fallen at his feet is Pyro, shrunken to be about the size of Scott's hand.
-
Pyro just wanted to talk with Scott about where he wanted certain boundaries and rooms for the survey. He didn't think it would end in him nearly stepped on by his sire.
Scott was already terrifying at a couple inches shorter than Pyro themself. Now that Pyro is much, much smaller, the fear is the first and only thing he can think about. He thinks he understands why Owen obeys Sire as the elder vampire walks over, shoes ghosting over the cracked and ruined stone bricks silently. His sire doesn't even look down until he's at the edge of the sinkhole Pyro must have uncovered with his fall. Alarms ring in his head as Scott steps back, shoe getting far too close to Pyro's tiny body.
He can't help it. He yelps and throws his arms over his head, curling into himself to be even smaller than he was magically made.
No pain comes from Scott adjusting his footing, but Pyro can feel the powerful gaze of Sire on him. Hesitantly, he opens his eyes and peers up beyond his curled arms. Sire is staring right at him, a smile on his face, fangs completely visible. Pyro feels a jolt of fear down his spine and for a second he's suddenly reminded of cold water and airless lungs.
"What do we have here?" Scott practically purrs, crouching down and still smiling.
Something primal in Pyro's mind takes hold and they scramble to their feet. He may be gifted with vampiric grace, but the drastic height change leaves him stumbling over pebbles. Pebbles! Of all things!
He didn't even realize he had started running until slender fingers curl around his waist and he's pulled through the air. It's a good thing they don't need to breathe anymore because Scott is holding them far too tightly. It actually brings a wheeze out of his lungs as the fingers dig into his chest painfully. He squeaks when Scott holds him right in front of his face.
"There's no need to run! I don't bite, much." Sire laughs at his little joke. Pyro holds onto Scott's fingers when they start to loosen a bit too much for his liking. They do not want to test how far vampire durability goes at this size.
"S-Sire!"
"You've gotten yourself into quite the predicament. You're so small now! Small and cute, why I could just eat you up." Scott comments, moving Pyro slightly closer to his very sharp fangs. Pyro's eyes widen and he tries to keep his dead heart from beating right out of his chest. Scott obviously notices his panic, Scott notices everything, and frowns. "I wasn't serious, Pyro. I may take nibbles out of people but I don't have any desire to actually eat them completely. I'm a vampire, not a cannibal!"
Pyro struggles through a weak laugh. He tries to keep his claws from nicking Sire's skin.
"Right... Well, ah, Sire I don't know how this happened?" Pyro admits. They're honestly freaking out very heavily right now, but they're trying to appear composed for Scott. Although Scott probably sees right through their false bravado. Scott just smiles down at them and shifts to be sitting with his legs crossed. Pyro tries not to get nauseated by the rapid swaying and movement.
"I can hazard a guess it has to do with that scuff in the stone I noticed earlier. I thought it seemed a bit suspicious so I avoided it, you just happened to accidentally trigger it. I did wonder if it was a trap from when they forced me to sleep. I guess it was." Scott rests his head on his other hand and stares down the hall, not looking at Pyro. The hand holding them squeezes though, enough that they squeak in surprise. Scott smiles and chuckles. Pyro would be blushing if he had any spare blood swimming through him.
"I didn't think there were any traps left in the ruins... It's been centuries and Owen mentioned something about the castle ruins being used as a meeting hall when he was alive," Pyro says. He tries to ignore the dread and fear at being so small and at the mercy of his sire. Shelby's turning is just the most recent example of Scott's ire towards him.
"Yes, it is interesting that a trap even managed to survive this long without being triggered. Just our luck, I suppose, that one of my fledglings ends up tiny. What are we going to do with you?" Scott sighs, adjusting his grip on Pyro to be holding him between two fingers instead of all of them. Pyro does his best to be as still as possible. "Nothing to be done with it now, I suppose. Let's see if we can find something in one of my crypts. A couple fledglings I had before were interested in magic, maybe there are some journals of theirs still around..."
Scott stands up, dusting off his legs with his unoccupied hand. Pyro gets queasy at the vertigo of changing altitude. He didn't even know he could still experience that. Maybe the spell that shrank him made him less vampiric? He hopes not, he doesn't think Sire will treat him gently if he isn't at the strength of a vampire. Sire doesn't even seem particularly interested in Pyro at all, not even looking at them as he walks back to the throne room.
Pyro prays to whatever god vampires pray to that Owen and Shelby aren't nearby, or even worse, the humans. There's only so much humiliation he can deal with when he's alone with Scott.
-
Pyro is cute at this size, Scott decides. Cute like a baby rabbit, small and tiny and breakable like one. He would be lying if he said he hadn't considered squeezing until those small little bones of Pyro's gave out, but alas, he needs his eldest fledgling at top shape, tiny or not. He's still angry about Shelby's turning though, Pyro is going to be paying for that for years.
The pair of them are silent as Scott makes his way into the throne room. It's not much of a throne room anymore, but old habits die hard, and Scott dies harder. He doesn't particularly want to talk with Pyro, and the poor fledgling is so very terrified. It would be amusing if he wasn't annoyed at having to rework his plans and find a way to fix Pyro's height.
The throne room is blessedly empty, Owen probably skulking about the forest and Shelby off trying to play human. She has a rude awakening coming when they figure her out, and they will. With how paranoid the humans have become and the fact they haven't been particularly stealthy... He only hopes it doesn't end in her dying to the humans, temporarily or permanently. He'd be very annoyed that his new puppy was killed so quickly.
Humming, Scott glances down at Pyro. The fledgling looks relieved the rest of the coven isn't present either. He can't find it in himself to blame them. If he were suddenly small enough to fit in someone's hand, he would be restless around normal sized people too. There's only so much helplessness he can swallow, and it is far less than Pyro.
Speaking of being helpless, Scott gets a wicked idea and smiles with all of his teeth down at the oblivious man in his fist.
Scott loosens his hold on Pyro, watching it bring their mind back to the immediate now.
"Do you think a toothpick would be capable of staking you?"
Pyro tenses up, squirming to hold onto Scott's fingers. He brings the fledgling in front of his eyes, smiling at the panic on display. He's so cute like this, helpless to Scott's whims.
"Sire?!"
"Rela-ax! The more important question is, if you turn into a bat, is it normal sized or tiny like you are now?"
Pyro's face lights up. Scott holds back a giggle at the excitement in their eyes.
"Let me try! Let me try!"
Scott obliges, holding his hand flat. Pyro tumbles head over heels at the sudden change in how they're held but Scott doesn't mention it. He's such a gracious sire, his own sire would have just left him on the ground to fend for himself if he got shrunk instead of carrying him around like a toy. Probably would have tried crushing him underfoot a few times too, but Scott's not his sire and Pyro is almost spoiled by him. He'd be fully spoiled if Scott actually had a coven and a castle to build a nest in. There's going to be so many behavioral problems Pyro and Shelby are going to face because of their lack of nesting period. Maybe Owen too, but he seems relatively more adjusted to vampirism than the fledglings, even if he still smells like a newblooded fledgling. Owen certainly has the behavioral issues of vampires who never had nests during their turnings.
Pyro kneels on the palm of his hand, tiny eyes closed as they focus on changing shape. Scott blinks and then a truly tiny bat is nosing at the palm of his hand. Pyro can't be bigger than a walnut like this. Normally, when Pyro becomes a bat he's roughly the size of a cantaloupe (Scott's bat form is larger but whose keeping track?) but now he's absolutely minuscule.
"Oh my god," Scott honest to God squeals. Hot embarrassment floods through him but he ignores it like a champion. Pyro is so small as a bat and Scott can't help it. It's a good thing he's not freshly fed in the last few hours, otherwise he'd be blushing and that's something he doesn't want Pyro to witness.
Pyro squeaks, tiny little head looking up at him. Scott taps his fledgling's head with a finger and feels so giddy he almost considers not returning Pyro to normal. His pragmatism overrides that thought but Pyro doesn't need to know how close he got to being stuck small.
Scott runs his finger down Pyro's back repeatedly, feeling the coarse fur and the beating heart going miles per hour under it. Pyro actually starts purring the longer Scott pets him. Minutes go by like this before Scott snaps himself out of it and shakes his head like a dog. He clears his throat and smooths his face into neutrality.
"Right. This is good information to have Pyro. Maybe if I can't find a solution quickly we can use this as a way for espionage. Your size in vampire form will already be a boon, the further reduction as a bat will be a game changer. You've done good." Scott pointedly ignores the happy chirping and trilling purr Pyro releases at the praise. He really wishes that he didn't have to crush a peasant rebellion right now, it would be so fun keeping Pyro this size, but alas.
-
Pyro has never been pet as a bat before. It's... unique. There's something deep in his core that loves the soft touch of Sire's finger running down his back, something so inherently inhuman it almost scares him. He pushes it away though, he's a vampire now, he's allowed to be inhuman, and the petting is sooooo nice. He's purring and Sire is definitely hearing and feeling it but he doesn't care. God, he wishes that this is the norm between him and Scott. It makes him feel like the treasured son, the heir worthy of inheritance, instead of the monster that was disinherited.
Sire praises him, he doesn't fully understand what Sire says, but the words are laced with pride and Pyro is chirping happily, nuzzling into the soft flesh under him. Everything feels so distant, like all he needs to worry about is the gentle fingers running down his bat form's back, between his large ears, over his leathery wings, and the humming under his little body from his sire. Scott hasn't stopped petting him at all and Pyro blearily is noticing the change of scenery turning dark as Sire takes them into the crypt.
He nuzzles into Sire's finger as it gets close to his head. He swears there's a niggling in his brain that feels like Scott is cooing over him.
So great is the comfort, that Pyro doesn't even notice when their bat form runs out as he flops back onto Sire's palm as a tiny vampire. He's still purring, and now that he has access to smaller hands, he clings tighter to the hand holding him, digging his face into the flesh for something he doesn't even know. He's never purred as a vampire before, and very rarely as a bat, but he feels so comfortable and safe held by his sire that he can't help the rumble from his chest. It actually vibrates his limbs a little from the force of and only gets stronger when Sire strokes his head with a finger.
He never wants this to end. Being the front and center of Sire's attention is so fulfilling, the gentle comfort healing parts of them, they never knew could be healed.
Sire laughs at him and Pyro impetuously nips at the finger messing up his hair, opening a single eye to glare at Sire. The laughter just gets louder and Sire's finger presses his head down. Rude Sire! Rude, rude, rude! Pyro huffily turns his face into his elbow, Sire doesn't deserve seeing his expressions.
This is nice. They don't want this to end.
-
Scott feels his long emotionless heart twinge with happiness when Pyro completely lets go of his previous fear. The fledgling is even still purring outside of bat form, something Scott never expected to happen so quickly. Normally, purring instincts in vampire form are created during nesting periods and vampires who don't go through said periods struggle exceptionally hard to even purr as bats. It's gratifying that he hasn't ruined Pyro's instincts completely.
In a better world, Pyro would still be confined to a nest, but it's not a better world. Scott's own sire would be laughing at him as he was being whipped for failing his fledglings by not providing a nest. Unfortunately, there's no nest and nowhere safe enough Scott can make one. He simply cannot afford humans stumbling upon it or the time needed to have a functioning nest. Life loves challenging him!
He stiffens when footsteps echo throughout the crypt ahead of him. A quick sniff of the air reveals Owen lurking about. Scott sighs, fighting back the urge to hold Pyro against his neck. Owen, as much as it pains him to admit, is coven. How far Scott has fallen to taking in a mangy stray as a lieutenant! But Owen is reliable, trustworthy, so Scott tries not to hold his status as another vampire's leftovers against him. Lord knows that Scott probably originated the lineage Owen's sire came from. Not many vampires get to his age and once they do, their covens tend to splinter pretty easily into new ones. It wouldn't surprise him if he originated half of the vampires this side of the continent. He rests his other hand on top of Pyro regardless, he can try to preserve what's left of their dignity at least, with how cute they're being purring and nuzzling his hand.
"Scott," Owen gruffs, fading into the slightly lighter shadows of the main throughway. Scott nods at him, raising an eyebrow at the red mark on the man's collar. Owen notices his look and tilts his head. "There was a minor scuffle over the Obelisk beacon."
"I assume that it's still ours then? I haven't felt any new consecrations." Scott continues his sedate stride towards his coffin. His crypts are a maze and the easiest way to some of his old fledgling's coffins is best accessed from the grand mausoleum holding his own.
"The humans remain with the same number of beacons. Avid is trying to rally them into a military force, but I suspect Cleo and Abolish are the ones truly in charge. Shelby is undetected so far, but we both know that won't last long," Owen says. He falls into step beside Scott, like he was made to be Scott's red right hand. He's giving Scott's hands a curious look. "Do you have a mouse? I would have thought you too afraid of dirtying your hands with the diseases of vermin."
Scott snarls, spinning on his heel and baring his fangs centimeters from Owen's face. The newblood looks at him with bemusement and a bit of annoyance. Scott would be blushing in embarrassment again if he had fed recently. The things he does for Pyro.
"Ahem. Apologies Owen, it's not a mouse, no. It's something I'm holding onto for Pyro. He's indisposed at the moment." Scott nonchalantly starts walking again. Owen is tactful enough to not comment on it, thank the Lord. Owen follows besides him, watching him carefully, analyzing him. He would bristle, but that would only tip him off further.
They reach the main mausoleum in silence and Owen glides off down a corridor Scott has no intention of going down. Pyro remained blissfully undetected throughout the entire encounter.
At this point Scott considers just taking a nap in his coffin with Pyro. It's not like something would go drastically wrong if he slept for a few hours. Owen and Shelby are perfectly capable of staying out of trouble for that amount of time.
Pyro squirms between his hands and whines. It's a truly pathetic sound, but it tugs at Scott's largely dormant sire instincts and his heart. His face pinches.
Sighing, he approaches his coffin and climbs into it. Stupid fledglings getting into situations he has to help them with. Stupid sire instincts insisting he spoil them. Stupid witch cursing him to sleep! Stupid coven LEAVING him to sleep for six hundred years! When this whole beacon business is done, he's going to track down what remains of his old coven and make a pretty necklace out of their fangs. Owen, Shelby, and Pyro would never treat him like that.
He wiggles around a bit, getting comfortable. Then he raises Pyro up to his neck, pressing him into the spot his turning bite is. Pyro's purr is so strong he can feel the little fledgling actively moving around from the force of it.
It's not like Pyro will just wake up miraculously back to normal, right? Surely if the magic in the trap had lasted for that long it wouldn't wear off so quickly?
Scott sighs, again, and closes his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. Pyro nestles against his neck, a spot of warmth on the pillow Scott rests his head on.
-
"WHAT THE HECK?!" Scott shouts. Pyro sputters, banging his head on the side of the stone coffin and screaming in surprise. The fledgling scrambles, still waking up from where he was practically suffocating Scott.
"SIRE!" Pyro shouts, getting to their feet and peering over the edge of the coffin down at him. Scott glares up at him balefully. He even gives a little hiss at the fledgling. Pyro shrinks back and Scott sighs.
He guesses the magic really did wear off in a few hours. How disappointing, he was looking forward to having Pyro that small for at least a day longer. Guess he has to go back to planning the decimation of a peasant revolt now. The things he does for his coven.