Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rules of the game were simple:

1. Blend in with the humans.

2. The first to be discovered loses.

3. Anything goes.

—_-+-_—

Walking up to the ruins of what had once been a bustling and lively town seen many times from the upper levels of his castle, Scott felt what he could only describe as a smug sense of satisfaction. 

Serves the town right. Staging a revolt all because he demanded a few sacrifices. Weekly. For centuries. Ungrateful, honestly. He had told them, time and time again, that the Goldsmith name was the only thing protecting them from uncertainty. Other towns and people left Oakhurst alone for they dared not anger anyone from the Goldsmith Coven. Truly, the townsfolk had been getting a bargain! He was kept fed and content, and the town was protected and provided everything they needed. 

Scoffing, Scott shook his head lightly as he reached the barely standing spruce gate that was somehow in better state than the stone structures inside. He could hear people inside as well, conversations and heartbeats growing clearer and louder as he strode nearer. 

Listening more closely, Scott decided to veer towards the center of town, where he had heard talk about removing someone’s foot, which sounded like the much more interesting conversation of those going on. 

Catching sight of three humans surrounding the ruins of the former clock tower, Scott took in those he could see. A tall one with long red hair laced with flowers, somehow not wilting despite certainly having been in their hair for quite some time, wore a green dress and a somehow both disgusted and incredulous expression. A shorter one with blond hair secured out of his face with a black band stood seemed to be the loudest of the group. Dressed in clothes that may be in the style of the upper class, but were definitely not the high quality fabrics Scott would expect from an aristocrat, he appeared to be in the midst of an argument with the third and final person present. Close cropped hair, a monocle, and a white cotton apron, the third one smelled of blood and chemicals. A doctor then. Likely one with a military background given his appearance and how he held himself. 

Scott called out as he approached, “Hello!”

“Surgery? For a twisted ankle? What kind of doctor are you? Precisely?” the one with flowers in their bright orange curls asked, incredulously before turning to greet him with a tight smile. “Hi.”

The whiny one continued near screaming at the doctor. “Sounds like you’re the only twisted one here!”

Rolling her eyes and ignoring the doctor defending himself, the original speaker spoke up again, “Let me guess: you’re also new?”

Blinking, Scott looked behind him towards the gate as he replied, “I mean, I was just walking down the path, yes.” They looked him up and down as he continued walking towards the small group, assessing. “Do you live here? I would be quite surprised.” 

Obviously not, the town was decimated and couldn’t survive with the Goldsmith protection, but he had to seem like he knew nothing about the remains of the town, despite watching over its growth for centuries.

The one in white spoke up. “No one is from here. We’re all…”

He trailed off as the taller one nodded along. Clearing his throat, Scott began, “I will say, I do believe-”

“It’d be pretty pathetic if somebody did live here.”

The whiny one. He would have to go early on. Scott hated being interrupted. Even so, he could not help but notice the other looking at him, a gleam in his eyes. Scott had seen that expression many times on the faces of young fledglings looking towards their Sires for approval, hoping to one day have the power they did. 

Staring at him for a second, eyes slightly narrowed, Scott resumed, nodding, “Yes, well, if someone did live here, I would be quite worried about their wellbeing.”

He made sure to add a hint of distaste to his words to clue the annoying one in that he agreed with him. Regardless of how much Scott wanted him dead for his moment of insolence, he had no idea how soon that would be. Better to build bridges so that Scott can burn them down with the humans on them when the time eventually comes.

The redhead nodded, humming in agreement before their gaze was caught by something in the dilapidated clock tower. 

The supposed doctor smiled. “They need an immense amount of DIY help.” A joke, if the laughs from the other two were any indication. 

DIY? What in the world was DIY? Language and dialect changed so quickly that it was not a good indication of how long he had been out. But how to find out without directly asking for the year? That would tip the humans off to something. It seemed the language was more casual now though. Scott would have to tone down his usual formality if he wanted to avoid suspicion for as long as possible.

Adding to the clear disrespecting of the previous tenants of the town, Scott laughed, hiding it behind a blunt-nailed hand. He’d had to retract his claws after feeding earlier, an unusual sensation for him after so long having them proudly on display. They were now just sharper than a typical human’s, which he could pass off as a fashion statement or a trend of the upper class. “And maybe spiritual guidance because the choice to stay here, if this”—he gestured to the remains around them—“is what you lived in?” A shake of his head. “Goodness.”

He sounded like a prude. Goodness? Really? And he can not say anything he usually would without coming across crass or hellish. Scott did not think the humans would appreciate an “oh Satan” as much as he would right about now, and it is not as if he can call for the Lord. Holy words and all that. Vampyric laws of nature made it that much more difficult to blend in, likely the original intention.

Attention drawn to the tall one now standing in the tower, Scott strolled over to see what had caught their focus, the whiny one following to look at an odd structure surrounded in glass. 

“Oh. What’s that?” he said, echoed by the one already inside.

Very eloquent, humans.

Holding in an eye roll and a scoff, Scott only shook his head as he said, “I have no idea.”

The doctor, who had followed upon hearing their questioning, frowned at the structure before shaking his head and addressing the loud one. “Uh ignoring…that for a second. What even are your names?”

“Me?” he asked, blinking. “Oh, uh. I’m Martyn.”

“Martyn?”

“Yeah,” Martyn nodded at the doctor. “I got lost. Basically, I fell asleep outside of the carriage and seems like my father just decided ‘see you later’ or he just simply didn’t check. I don’t know which of the two it was”

Scott attempted to hold back a chuckle, hiding a smile behind his hand and feigning sympathy with his eyes as best he could. 

The redhead, not even trying to disguise her amusement at Martyn’s circumstances, said, “Not the favorite son, are you?”

Martyn winced, disguising it with a forced smile and chuckle, but Scott saw right through it. Not how much it truly hurt. No. How forced it all was. Now, Scott was no mind reader, but he was incredibly gifted at reading people. He better be, considering he had centuries of practice. Martyn was a liar. Scott knew this for a fact. After all, like recognizes like. 

He was a good liar, for a human, considering he seemed perfectly confident in his story, heartbeat steady and even in Scott’s ears. Maybe not a complete fool after all. 

The doctor seemed to find the situation humorous as well, but at least had the decency to pretend not to. “I am so sorry.”

The “forced” smile remained as he said, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time it’s happened. Although, getting lost for days on end”—shaking his head a bit—“is the first time it’s happened. Especially because we’re a little far from home.”

“Mmhm,” the redhead nodded, eyes slightly narrowed. Had she noticed Martyn wasn’t being truthful as well? “Well, I’m Cleo.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, the doctor responded, “Nice to meet you all. I’m Dr. Legundo, but please just call me Legs. Do let me know if there’s anything ailing you, and I will do my best to be of assistance.”

Yeah, that was not going to happen. 

Scott nodded before tilting his down in a small bow. “My name is Scott. Scott Goldsmith. And the pleasure is all mine.” 

Cleo’s eyes narrowed further as her nose flared the slightest bit. Not a fan of the wealthy it would seem. The doctor had little reaction, only nodding back. Martyn seemed intrigued but also, hidden in his eyes, worried. Likely that Scott would call his bluff if anything he said did not line up with the true lifestyle of the upper class. Not that Scott would be able to, considering he had no clue how they acted in the present day, whenever that was.

Putting his observations on the back burner, Scott shifted the conversation to the other group of recent arrivals. “Do any of you know who the individuals in that other group over there are?”

It was Martyn who responded, taking the attention back off of Scott. “No. I was trying to hide and sneak, but this one”—he gestured at the doctor—“spotted me.”

”They are lunatics.” That was Cleo. They continued as the other two bickered, something about “good vision” and “training”. “They are absolute lunatics. I wouldn’t go near ‘em to be honest.”

Drawn from the squabble, Martyn looked at Cleo, “Oh? Are they wrongins?”

He takes back what he said. He was still a fool. Wrongins? Even as long as he had been asleep, Scott knew that was not the way aristocrats spoke now.

“They- they-” Cleo seemed to struggle to find the words as they tried again. “They are very…”

At the same time, the doctor nodded, saying, “There’s a few…”

They looked at each other, wincing before Legundo continued. “Yeah. There’s a few speaking crazy.”

Cleo couldn’t seem to hold herself back as she stated, “One of them is looking for Bigfoot.”

Martyn barked out a laugh as Scott scrunched his face in confusion, taking note of the human who had begun walking towards them from the other group. 

Apparently, this “big foot” was something well known. Just not to Scott.

“One of them has a big foot?” Turning to the best dressed human he had seen so far that had finally reached their little circle, Scott asked, completely lost, “Are you the one with the big foot?” 

Caught off guard, the human shook his head, blinking in confusion brought on by Scott’s sudden question. “Uh, no. I think that is one the others over there mentioning-”

Cleo cut him off. “This is the butler.”

Truly, no one here has any manners.

“The butler?” Scott asked, pushing the irritation at the insolence back. Looking at the recent addition to their talk, he supposed it was rather similar to the servants he used to have. The ones he assigned to his staff looked better, of course, but still. Scott held some snarky comments about asking for some refreshments. Considering he intended to play the long game, it was better to have as many of the humans willing to at least somewhat listen to him as possible.

Martyn evidently had no such reservations about getting others to like him.

“Yeah! You look just like the ones in our house!”

Seems Martyn wanted to cement the idea of him being a spoiled brat into everyone’s heads. One with no tact, apparently.

Still a bit lost due to being interrupted only to have his attention consistently jerked between them, the butler answered Scott a bit hesitantly. “Yes. I am Abolish. I, um, worked with butlers before. I was not assigned to be a butler, though. I was taken in by a lord, and as a token, I became his butler.”

The way his eyes kept shifting told Scott enough about his story. 

It was Cleo who once again spoke up. “Oh, so you’re a butler’s butler!”

“Sort of. In a way, I suppose.”

“You’re a double butt, that’s what you are!”

So eloquent, that Martyn. 

As Martyn chanted “double butt” to a tune young children often used to taunt others, the doctor laughed, more at Martyn himself than at the childish humor as Cleo asked through her own laughter, “How old are you, precisely?”

“Yes,” Scott said through his own forced laughter. “I was going to say, when he said he was left by his father, he appeared to be a bit too old for that, but perhaps mentally? That seems to be on track.”

It was the doctor who said, still laughing, “I’m starting to maybe potentially clock why.”

As the others left, Scott continued, “Indeed, I am starting to believe it may not have been accidental.”

Cleo laughed harder, fiery curls bouncing as their head shook, agreeing with him. 

Martyn seemed to take most offense from the doctor, though, as he exclaimed, “I’m sorry Mr. wanna-chop-everybody-up-the-second-that-I-meet-them.”

“I said nothing of chopping-”

“No,” Cleo said, “to be fair, you did.”

Mm, no I do not believe he did, Scott thought, thinking back on the conversation he had heard upon walking up. He said nothing, though, as he definitely should not have been able to hear that from as far away as he had been. 

“I wanted to provide care!”

“You were going to take me to surgery for a twisted ankle!”

That was true.

“I can confirm you did.”

“You could’ve just massaged it or something!”

At this point, the two were practically attacking the poor doc.

“You know,” Scott said, cutting off the antagonizing of the medical “professional,” to add to it, “it kind of looks like you are wearing a wedding gown that is just a touch too short for you.”

A look of pure indignation took over Legundo’s face. “These are doctor’s robes!”

Looking him up and down, Scott only let out a small, “Oh.”

“I can’t have blood on my clothes. If necessary, I need to be able to provide care or assistance. I’m a surgeon.”

“Mm, well, I do not believe any of this feels clean enough for surgery.”

Scott’s observation was met with murmurs of agreement from the others.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Legundo shook his head, “which is what I said to the child”—gesturing at Martyn—“before he started running away and calling me a madman.”

“And how many of his limbs did you remove before that point?!” Martyn clearly missed the implication that he was the child. 

Shaking his head, Scott watched as two new figures joined their slowly growing gathering. The first was a young woman with an atrocious sense of fashion. And the other…

“Is this the one with the big foot?” Scott asked Cleo, pointing at the fashion disaster.

Shaking her head, they said, “I don’t think so.”

Abolish continued to look entirely lost. 

“Don’t listen to the Bigfoot gal. She’s kind of downplaying the whole seriousness of the situation right now, okay?”

His Sire had always been much faster at picking up the dialect of the areas they visited. More experience, he claimed.

Ignoring the man for now, Scott voiced his thoughts out loud. “Wait, are they looking for people with big feet, or do they just have big feet?” He shook his head. “I am confused.”

“I’m a size eleven if that helps.”

Not at all, but thanks, Martyn.

“Yeah, I don’t really get it either,” the poorly dressed woman agreed.

“Same,” Scott nodded.

“I’m sorry, who are you all?” the young man asked.

“Yeah I was about to ask,” Abolish added. 

As introductions went around once again, the two newcomers were identified to the group as Drift and Avid.

“Hello, I’m Scott.”

The contraction took more effort than it should have.

“This is Double Butt,” Martyn says, pointing at Abolish.

Ignoring him, Scott continues, “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, hi!” Avid smiled as he began to dig in his pockets. “Here, take some of this.”

Garlic.

He was just forcefully handed an entire clove of dirty, smelly garlic that had most certainly been pulled from the ground quite recently.

“Why, thank you,” Scott said, forcing himself to stay neutral.

“You’re welcome!” 

Such a smug look on his face. So proud of himself for his find. 

Scott was going to kill him.

“Ooo, what’s that?”

Avid turned to look at Martyn. “Oh, would you like one as well?”

“Yeah, please!”

Cleo stepped closer to see what was happening before scrunching her face in disgust. “Why are you giving people raw garlic?”

Completely ignoring her, Scott walked to the garlic man and threw him a potato, a bit more forcefully than necessary. “I can trade you some vegetables.”

Eyes alit with mirth, he said, “Oh, wow! Thank you for the potato. That’s wonderful!”

As a conversation began about crops and farming and people began giving Cleo all of their vegetables and seeds, Scott “accidentally” dropped his newly acquired garlic. Crouching down, Scott spoke near silently under his unnecessary breath, “I am going to shove this nasty ass piece of filthy vegetation down your throat and make you smile as you choke.”

Standing back up, Scott ignored the light chuckle he heard through Avid’s hand, now covering his mouth to hide his own response. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Eye twitching, he gave Cleo the crops he had, including some berries he had picked earlier and the clove of garlic the idiot had given him. He shook his head at Cleo’s raised eyebrow, smiling tightly.

“I’ve got nothin’, but I trust ya, I trust ya,” Drift said casually, tucking her empty pockets back in, before noticing the structure inside the tower remains. “Wait, what is this?”

Whipping his hair out of his face, Scott answered, “I am not sure.”

Martyn walks over and bends down to look at the structure. “Everytime I crouch near it it just-”

“Everytime someone stands a little too close to it, I hear something on the wind,” the doctor interrupts.

Watching as the others join Martyn, Scott hears Avid call out, “You’re consecrating!”

Scott tilted his head, stepping back and laughing nervously, “You are doing what, exactly?”

Avid perks up from just outside the tower, “Consecrating!”

“Is that contagious?” Scott asked, playing dumb. “I-I am not sure I trust that. What exactly do you mean by ‘consecrating’?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” Avid pushed out through his laughter, mischief plain on his face. 

“Oh, come on. Live a little!” Martyn seemed to be enjoying himself, hands on the faintly glowing glass.

Before he could say anything, Scott felt Avid’s hands on his back, not so gently shoving him into the radius of the structure. That little-

The glowing suddenly dimmed completely as Martyn, Drift, and Cleo step back, varying looks of confusion on their faces, talking over each other about what could have caused the interruption, before Martyn pointed at him accusingly. “No, I think it’s because you walked in, Scott.”

Shaking his head and raising an eyebrow, Scott tried to cover, “No, I- Cleo literally stood up! What do you mean?!”

And she had. Of course that was after the consecration had been interrupted but he doubted anyone had noticed, the timings fairly close. It very well could have been her fault to any who were not paying their full attention, but Martyn was having none of it.

“What are you guys doing?” 

A newcomer. 

Brushing himself off, Scott left the tower remains and humans to discuss the structure, subtly hooking an ankle around one of Avid’s own and pulling. Stepping around the now grounded man, Scott didn’t bother hiding a smirk as he walked off to greet the other group nearby, ignoring the huffs and the rushed reassurance that he was “fine! Just tripped over my own feet” from behind him.

“Oh, well, I’m Pearl, and I lost my entire family—”

Damn.

“Damn.”

His thoughts exactly, tall man.

“—and, uh, now, I’m going to be settling in a new place and a new life.”

Finally noticing the looks she was getting, the woman backtracked. “I know. Sorry to drop- I know it’s heavy!”

“That is incredibly sad,” Scott said, making her jump, having been the only one of the group not to notice his approach. Now looking at her head on, Scott took a moment to assess the new group around him. Long brown hair with a rose behind one ear, the tall woman in front of him appeared well dressed, in a black dress, front sections hitched to her knees, and boots similar to the riding boots he used to see the townsfolk wear when they brought their weekly tithe to the castle. 

The tall man who smelled of ink and paper nodded. He was also clothed in much finer clothing than the others Scott had met so far, clearly having money at least at some point or another. Fairly handsome for a human, but a bit scruffy for Scott’s taste. “Wow, trauma dumping on us like that.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. It was a long time ago. It’s ok. It’s fine.”

It definitely sounds that way.

Looking at his sad excuse for claws, Scott said, “That is quite a bit of, how did you say, ‘trauma dump’ to just say to people you only just met.”

“You asked!”

The short one with the glasses shrugged, tucking a strand of red hair behind an ear. “Yeah, we just met.”

He liked the short one. Simple yet ‘cute’ described her style well, wearing a sweater vest and short skirt in a green palette, complimenting her dark red hair and golden eyes, which shone with light and life. Avid would like this one.

“Sorry…”

“I did not.” Scott lowered his hand. “I walked over just now.”

Something was off with this one. He could smell it. Sniffing lightly, trying to identify what it was, the others kept speaking.

“I like it. We feel close already.”

That is one way to look at it, tiny one.

“Aww,” the odd woman smiled broadly, teeth too sharp. Scott imagined if she had a tail it would be wagging furiously right about now.

Dog.

Shit.

This could be a problem. 

“The energy changed quite a bit,” Scott said, putting a pin in that for the time being. “They are around a magic circle beacon thing.” He pointed towards the ruined clock tower. “You two are discussing your family being dead.” He gestured in front of him. “I feel like I have walked up to the wrong town.”

Silence for a moment.

“My dad was killed by a werewolf…I think.”

Satan on a stick, these people.

“Now, that was trauma dumping.”

Agreed, wolf woman. Agreed.

“Oh.”

Recalling his earlier discussion, Scott paused before directing his gaze back at the small one, who also smelled of ink and paper, though not as clean as the other. “Are you the one looking for people with big feet?”

“Yeah, she’s the Bigfoot watcher.” That was the tall, scruffy man again.

There was a sharp gasp of excitement before he had hands on his own. “Yeah! Yeah, Bigfoot. Bigfoot, really any kind of creature, werewolves, sirens…”

Shrugging, Scott said, “I have about a size eleven. Is that big enough or…?”

“Oh.” 

And now she’s looking straight down at his feet. Great.

“That’s pretty big.” The tall man. “I’m a twelve so I’m a little bit bigger. Look at this.”

Another gasp before the little one’s attention is shifted again.

It was going to be a long day if everyone was this odd and easily distracted.

Offhandedly, from her place near their feet, the little one says, “You know this guy’s famous right here.”

Nodding, the tall one nods, “I’m a famous writer. This is true.”

“Oh!”

Ah, the one in the back speaks. Sort of.

They seemed young but well kept. Clean clothes, manicured hands stained with ink. His hair was long but well maintained. Upper class then. Not as loud as the others but Scott was fairly good at spotting those of higher standing. It made getting what he wanted easier if he knew who to direct his charm at.

The tall woman tilts her head, and Scott can practically see how her wolf ears would tilt to the side with her. Like a curious puppy. “You’re famous?”

“I’ve wrote many books. I’m a published author.”

Who clearly has an overworked editor if the use of ‘wrote’ was any indication.

“What’s your pen name then?”

The wolf woman seemed as skeptical of his claim as Scott.

“Have you ever heard of M?”

Raising her eyebrow, the wolf says, “I’ve heard of the letter M.”

Stifling a chuckle, Scott asks, “What are some of the titles? Perhaps, I would recognize it by name.”

Grinning ear to ear M starts rattling on about his bestseller, a book called Twilight, which was apparently about Vampyrs and Werewolves. Ironic considering he had one of each currently in his presence.

“I think I may have heard of that one.” A bold faced lie. “When did that one come out? I believe I have read something else with that title, and I want to be sure.”

“Oh, well, it’s been a good few years now. The first one released in 1798.”

1798. 

“Oh?” his voice quaked slightly, but Scott forced it back. “So, it has been out for…?”

Despite being slightly confused, M answered, “Uh, about eight years now.”

The year was 1806. He had been put to sleep in 1206. He had been asleep in that blasted coffin for six-hundred years.

Before he had a chance to spiral or anyone else could say something, a wave of burning warmth swept out from the center of town, where the beacon structure had been. Scott felt as if the air was being forced from his lungs as his frigid body shuddered. There were exclamations of confusion and surprise throughout the ruined town. 

“Did you say something about a magical beacon? Did they-”

Blinking away the shock and forcing the burning to the back of his mind, Scott cut the little one off, briefly forgetting his own manners. “Yes. Yes, they were doing something over there.” He shoves a hand in the direction of tower ruins and watches as the wolf, big foot girl, and M run towards it. Looking back at the other two who had yet to say much of anything since he had walked over. “I do not mess with that nonsense. None of that spiritual magic stuff interests me in the slightest.”

A half-truth. He did not fool with the holy magic that washed over the town, but Vampyrs were creatures born of magic. Dark magic but magic nonetheless. Briefly looking over at the tower, Scott watches as the humans scuttle around like rats trying to find an escape route in their confusion. Such simple creatures. The centuries must have also impacted how humans feel about magic, seeing as none of them seemed to understand that the beacon was emitting holy magic, light magic. Nothing for them to worry about at all. If anything, they should be taking comfort in it. 

Scott was shaken from his thoughts as the mustached man, who had yet to really say anything since Scott had walked over, began to speak, wincing at the activity in the town center. He was much more his taste. Long hair tied back, shirt unbuttoned further than considered respectable, to show off his chest or so he could move better, Scott did not know. Did not care, honestly. Not when it created the image before him.

“Can we come over here for a proper greeting?” No one was perfect of course. An odd accent. Barely understandable, to a degree. Certainly not one Scott had ever heard in all his centuries of living and traveling.

“Yes, of course, of course,” the young man, who had remained mostly silent as well in the previous conversation, replied.

Nodding, Scott joined them as they walked a bit further, a fair distance away that a creature with average hearing likely couldn’t catch the conversations drifting across town. Scott just forced the talking away from his focus, unable to block it out entirely. 

It was the young man who spoke again. “As many people have already said, I love your accent. What part of this world do you come from?”

He chuckled lightly as he said, “Why, thank ye. My name is Renhardt Dogmourne.” He bowed deeply at the waist, an action Scott quite missed being directed at him. A sign of respect in a town that seemed to lack it almost entirely. “And I come from the Capital City.” He was met with responding nods. “Where are ye from, and what be yer names, dontcha know?”

The other smiled wide as he answered the other, “I’m from the Capital as well! My name is Jack Van Pyroscythe, but please, call me Pyro. I’ve come to write about this town. It’s my final piece in university. I wanted to come to research the people and the culture and the place, but there’s not much place left. I feel like I’ve come to the wrong place. This is Oakhurst, right?”

As he spoke, Pyro looked around town nearly the entire time, seemingly unable to keep eye contact for long, stumbling over every other word and repeating himself often. Upper class he may be, socialization was clearly not his strong suit.

Sighing almost sadly, Renhardt nodded. “There isn’t much to research, I’m afraid.”

Scott nodded along. “I believe this is Oakhurst. I’m Scott Goldsmith.”

“Greetings, Scott,” Renhardt said, bowing again. Scott liked this one.

“Greetings, Scott, greetings.” Pyro nodded, still avoiding eye contact.

And Scott was nothing if not well-mannered, Vampyr or no, so he bowed his head in response. “Well, I am a manor lord. I have a little manor just a couple towns over. I was hoping to see the rest of the world outside of the lands I was raised in, but if this is what is out there, I may be sorely disappointed.”

Lies and truths. It is always easier to keep a story together if it is sprinkled with truth. Just enough to be believable but not enough to give anything away. 

The conversation continued for a while as the sun progressed slowly across the sky. At the weak level Scott was currently at, the sun was little more than a slight nuisance. It did not yet hurt, but it was rather uncomfortable. 

Renhardt, or Ren as he claimed to prefer, expressed his distaste for Scott’s noble standing but refused to give an explanation as to why. Pyro mentioned his concerns regarding wolves in the surrounding woods, which was ridiculous considering wolves had not lived in this region in the centuries Scott had governed it. Likely, Pyro had heard Pearl before she had arrived in town and any of her pack that had been with her. Wolves didn’t just rarely travel alone. They never did. They may travel briefly or scout ahead, but even then, there were typically at least two or three together at all times. An odd case, to be sure.

The three eventually joined more of the new townsfolk closer to the gate, a young woman in red, a young man who did not look well enough to even be standing, and Martyn. The young woman identified herself as Apo Kuna.

It was the young man, who only gave the first name Owen, that caught Scott’s attention, though. 

Bandages around his hands and neck, axe at his hip, old worn and dirty clothing. A done with life look upon his face. A slow, slow stuttering heartbeat. 

Vampyr.

He didn’t seem to register Scott showing just how inexperienced he was. 

Giving a subtle sniff in his direction, Scott had to stifle the instinctive scrunching of his eyebrows as he tried to decipher exactly what the odd scent encompassing the other vampire was. Owen smelled like a fledgling but with an air of staleness coating it. He could not smell another Vampyr on him so his Sire had likely been gone for quite some time, another indication that he was not a fresh fledgling.

He would have to investigate further.

Scott was drawn back to the conversation as Martyn responded to Ren’s questioning, likely as to who he was. The day was just going to be introduction after introduction, wasn’t it? 

“…Martyn uh- Woodhurst.”

Creative. 

“He got left by his dad on the side of the road,” Scott added on helpfully. 

Wincing and nodding, Martyn continued, spinning his web of lies. “I know that Oakhurst and Woodhurst all come from the same familial tree. Somewhere down the line, my great Grandpappy probably owned this place. And maybe I can find the deeds!”

“Yeah maybe…” Owen clearly either did not believe him or just straight up did not care.

“Well, this land is owned by the military now so I seriously doubt that will happen. They told me to come here and set up an outpost.”

“Oh, what kind of outpost?”

Looking at Owen, Apo seemed surprised that someone seemed somewhat interested in her military position. “Ah, just to overlook the land.”

Tilting his head, Martyn asked, “What does the military want with a shack like this?”

Owen sounded equally curious as he said, “Yeah…?”

It did not appear the young Apo actually expected anyone to question her or her position here. “Uh… well, they just said like a lot of tourists come here so they don’t want it to get, like, littered and stuff.”

Yeah, she clearly had no idea why she was actually here. 

Raising an eyebrow, an action that Scott felt he had done more in the past few hours than he had the entire year he was last awake, Scott laughed lightly. “I feel like people would need to pay me to claim ownership of this.”

Which, if Scott did not already own the land, regardless of what little Miss Military said, would hold true. 

Murmurs of agreement sounded from the group around him. All except for Martyn, who wouldn’t understand a social cue if it smacked him in the face.

“Hey, I’ll tell you what. I’ll take it off your hands.” He pointed a thumb at his chest as he smiled, so damn proud of himself. “I will happily own and run this place. Why not?”

Why was Scott not surprised?

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 own 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.

Chapter Text

It was a good hour or so before Scott and Owen made their way out of the new mineshaft below town. Scott had calmed his soon-to-be Childe until they decided it would be beneficial for their cover if they kept mining for a while to limit suspicion. The tunnel had ended up reaching a cave that they decided was best explored at a later time, either by the humans or by them when they (read: Owen, not Scott, Scott doesn’t have emotions) were less emotionally drained. 

They parted ways at the top of the stairwell leading down, and Scott went to check in with Cleo about the farm. Scott himself may not need the food provided but it was important that the humans remained well fed if they were to eventually feed the new Goldsmith Coven.

It was after his defensive tirade directed at Cleo, where he listed his many contributions to the town, that the sound of pounding footsteps followed by smaller shuffling ones met Scott’s keen ears. Turning from where the farmer and the wolf woman had shut their quickly constructed door, Scott watched as Shelby tripped over her own feet in an attempt to outrun a miniscule zombie.

“I’m being chased! I’m being chased—”

Scott held back the smile that tried to infiltrate his face as he pulled his own stone sword from his side to give the girl a chance to breathe. “Oh?”

“—by a child!”

He did cringe at that. The baby zombies were by far the worst to deal with when the undead targeted him at his lower levels. “Oh my. The worst.”

That got a grin from Shelby as they got his double meaning. She soon joined him in the quick battle against the pest before they both made their way over to the plot the human had claimed the day prior. 

Scott let out an appreciative noise as he nodded at the structure that had begun to take shape, “Your house is coming along.”

And it was. For a human shack constructed within only a day or two with minimal resources and tools, the building was sturdy with a quaint feel to it, if one were to look past the lack of glass in the windows and the open ceiling.

His attempt at praise seemed to hit the mark if the girl’s beam was anything to go off of. “Yeah! Just needs a roof! I need to get a different kind of wood. The sun’s coming up so I’ll go out soon to get some.”

Scott looked at the building a bit before pulling out some stone and offering, “I have a little bit of cobblestone if you want that.”

They turned to look at the material. After inspecting it, their grin grew, and she nodded, “Ohh, that’s a nice—oh yeah, that’ll be secure. I won’t have any drips out of my roof!”

Letting out a sound that was definitely not a snort, Scott handed the resource over, “There you go.”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. If you need more, down this way”—he pointed towards the entrance to the town crypt—“at the bottom, there is a mine that leads into a cave, which lets out into a bigger cave.”

She looked at the crypt entrance, as if she could see through to the mineshaft below. “Oh yeah. We went in there earlier, and there was a book? But that’s a great place to just go digging.”

Tilting his head in question, Scott repeated, “A book?”

They nodded, “Yeah! Martyn took it. I think it’s one of those enchanted books that contain magic that can be transferred to tools and such? I’ve never seen one in person before, but I’ve read about them. It was called Protection I. And it was really shiny!”

“Ah, yes. That certainly sounds like what that is.” Scott tried not to mess with unknown magic when it could be helped. Vampyr hunters before had a tendency to lace neutral spells with holy magic to try and catch his kind off guard before. “Well, Owen and I dug it further, and it eventually let out into a bigger cave.” It was then, just past the human’s head, that he noticed an… interesting sign. Walking towards the beginnings of their shack, Scott got a closer look at the messy but clearly legible scrawl next to the door. “Also, this feels rather counterintuitive to your goals. How are you meant to find the monsters if they are not allowed to come in?”

Evidently, she had not seen the flaw in that logic or had not expected someone to address it. They stuttered and stumbled over their words in a manner not unlike his Sire’s before taking a short breath and starting over, “Well, it's like how I—you respect bugs outside of your house, but you don’t want them inside of your house. You go outside, that’s where they belong. They belong out there. I’ll go to them. They shouldn’t come to me because I would be… scared.” 

Nodding and humming along, Scott let a small amused smile cross his face. “So, it’s more of a situation where you would rather make contact, not the other way around?” 

The hesitant look was again replaced by a beaming grin. Truly this girl was so much like a younger, human version of his Sire. In some regards. “Yeah! You don’t really want to invite them in. That’s how you end up with a demon.”

“Oh…” Scott could hear the clear amusement in his own voice. He would have to check on the status of the remnants of the castle’s library. He had a strong feeling that she would find some great reads there. Hopefully some that would correct some of the misconceptions they appeared to have regarding various supernatural beings.

Shelby seemed to miss it as they just went on, “You can’t be too careful. Or, like, that Avid guy’s running around saying vampires, which I don’t know about that. I didn’t hear about vampires in these woods. I hear wolves. Werewolves.”

Shaking his head slowly, Scott thought to the wolf woman in town. “No, I believe they are just wolves. Just normal wolves.”

Their eyes narrowed at him as she just let out a soft, “Hm, maybe…”

Shrugging and pushing back the laugh at her inability to hide her true feelings, Scott conceded, “But what do I know? I only live a couple towns over. We don’t have a wol—”

“Oh, really?”

He really would have to teach these humans common decency in conversations. “Yeah! I got a bit bored.”

“Did they say anything about this place over there?”

“Well, see, I don’t really talk to the common people all that often so my knowledge on, say, the local areas? Not so great. But that’s what I am trying to fix by coming out here and traveling some.”

“And when you say common people… what are you?”

“I’m a manor lord.” Not technically a lie.

“Oh, I see. That explains the nice coat.”

Scott laughed as he gave a slight spin and curtsey. “Thank you! But yes, I realized I should learn other things in the world—”

“Yeah!”

“—rather than have everything done for me.”

“Get to know other walks of life.”

Sure, that sounds feasible. Scott nodded and hummed in confirmation before saying, “I am, however, realizing that it still includes a lot of manual labor that I’m not fully comfortable with.”

Shelby laughed as they agreed, “Yeah, yeah. I wasn’t expecting that either. I thought we’d have walls. And roofs. But…”

“Well,” he half-laughed, “there are walls. They’re just not… not very sturdy.”

Before Shelby could respond, Martyn stormed up to the town center behind her, shouting about a sound. Noticing them, he ran over and asked, “Was there an explosion over here?” Scott and Shelby both gave small shakes of their heads as they replied in the negative. Martyn started walking back, muttering to himself, “Where was that from? I heard a big ol’ boom.”

Scott didn’t have a chance to question any further as Shelby’s lack of attention span stuck again.

Darting over to look at the house Ren had constructed, Shelby called up to the man, “How did you build this already? It’s really nice!”

Ren smiled from his place on the roof, “Thank you. Thank you.”

“It seems you have experience in this department, Renhardt.”

He narrowed his eyes at Scott, something he would certainly have not been able to see without his keen sight, especially in the darkness of night. “Well, I’ve built many a structure like this, nobleman. Many a structure indeed for noblefolk like yourself.” He must have taken Scott’s silence as an acceptance of his explanation as he nodded to himself and scaled the side of the new building to plant his feet once more on solid ground. “I feel like we may have got off on the wrong foot, nobleman, dontchya say? I’d like to invite you in for tea at some point, and perhaps we can discuss why I feel so uh… angry when I see your face.”

Chuckling to himself, Scott looked to Martyn and Shelby next to him as he spoke, “I’ve been told I have that impression before.” Turning back to fully face Ren, ignoring Martyn’s muttered comment about his face being “punchable”, he gave his most charming smile. “But yes, that sounds lovely. I would love to join you for tea at some point.” He was never one to turn down an open invitation, after all. 

Ren only gave him a single sharp nod before replying, “Let’s do that.”

Scott returned the show of respect with his own slight bow in response before offering, “Well, here.” He pulled out a bundle of cooked cod he had caught earlier on his expedition. It was good to keep up appearances, but it did change the fact that he had no use for it. “There’s some of my food to keep you going.”

“Thank you very much. I appreciate that, good sir, thank you.” 

It didn’t hurt that it garnered some respect from the other in the process.

After some further chatting and observing of the antics of some of the townsfolk, Scott joined Shelby back at her plot, when it stuck him. “I don’t own a house. I was too busy mining.”

Well, that was inconvenient. Even if he didn’t need a place to sleep, he would still require a place where people thought he slept and to keep his supplies. 

“You can live in mine!” Shelby side-eyed the structure. “Without a roof…”

Scott laughed, walking inside the creaky door. “It’s better than nothing, I’ll take it!” 

Shelby joined him inside, giggling as she tapped the door shut with her foot. “I have a sign, too! That means monsters can’t enter.”

Turning as he sat on a chest, the only spot to sit in the roofless shack, he grinned at the little mortal, excitement bursting at their seams from their own beaming smile. “A creature shows up, sees the sign, and just says, ‘Oh well!’” They both laughed harder, before Scott faked a shocked gasp. “Wait, what if they can’t read?”

“Exactly.” She let out a small giggle before going quiet. “Huh?”

Repeating himself, tone the same, he asked, “What if they can’t read?”

There was silence for another moment as Shelby looked at the door. “Oh… I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Exactly,” he nodded wisely. “You are assuming the monsters are literate, and I can’t promise you that would be the case.”

“Ummmm. I figured they’d been alive long enough that they would know how to read.” They shrugged, beginning to dig through another chest, “But I don’t know if they speak English either.”

Scott watched as she threw up a quick ladder to reach the roof. Or well, spot where there should be a roof. “That is true. What language do monsters usually speak?” Playing into it even further, he feigned another gasp as they balanced themself on the wall, looking down at him. “Do you think they have odd accents? Like the cursed tongue guy?”

She tilted her head at him, eyes squinting as she asked, “Ren?” Scott only nodded. “Yeah. Do you think maybe he’s a monster?” Another exaggerated gasp. They thrust a finger in his direction. “Maybe that’s why he talks funny!”

Scott hopped off the chest, reaching in to pull out more materials for the roof. “You know, that could be.” Making his way up to the small human to assist in the roof creation, he elaborated, “Because I have met some nobles that have had really… peculiar… sounding voices, but nothing like that.”

They continued on like that for a good few hours before their resource stock depleted. By that time, the sun had begun to creep back over the horizon. Claiming she had experience in staying up all night reading “fanfiction,” whatever that was, Shelby promised she was still well enough to gather more supplies. Heading out, they went their separate ways, agreeing to meet back up later to complete the roof. 

It was about midday, through the final squeals of a pig below him, that Scott first heard the group making their way through the woods nearby. Extending his claws, Scott made quick work of making the corpse look like the remains of a creature of the forest. He listened as the small crew drew closer, quickly scrubbing his now human hands in the river, before beginning to make his way towards them. 

Pyro was the first to notice his approach. “Oh, hello.”

Dipping his head in greeting, Scott racked his mind for the names of the others gathered: Jack Van Pyroscythe, Apo Kuna, Abolish no last name, and Doctor “Legs” Legundo. “Why are you all out so far into the woods?”

“Well, we’re looking for stuff.”

Very specific, Miss Military. Scott felt his eye give an involuntary twitch. “Ahh.”

“Looking for truffles!” Pyro’s comment got a laugh from the others, likely a running joke amongst the group.

Polite smile slipping onto his face, Scott asked, properly clueless for an unassuming noble, “For truffles? Is that why you’ve got the pig there?”

Apo and Pyro nodded and murmured affirmatives from where Pyro was crouched next to the animal, scratching under their chin.

“Its name is Truffle actually,” Apo added.

“Oh, so you’ve found some truffle, then?” Scott questioned at the same moment Abolish asked, “You already named the pig?”

Legs answered Scott as Apo confirmed the name with Abolish. “We found Truffle. Now, we’re going to find more truffle.”

Good luck with that. In Scott’s centuries in this land, before and after his Turning, truffles had never been found. Whenever desired, they had to be purchased from a traveling merchant when they passed through or specially ordered from a neighboring land. “Well, you can never kill the pig now that it’s got a name on it.” Scott nodded faux wisely, “That’s the rule.”

Pyro’s eyes widened as they hugged the pig protectively. “Oh, no. Totally not.”

“That’s kinda the goal,” Miss Military agreed with the man coddling the livestock. “We’re not gonna kill it.” A beat passed in silence before Apo turned her pointed gaze to the others in their little party. “Right, guys?”

She got confirmation from the group, Abolish notably quiet, expression pinched in what was clearly disbelief at the humans he had ventured out with. 

“Right,” Scott trailed, taking a step back to leave. “I don’t quite know if I trust that…”

Pyro brightened, straightening to his full height, looking up slightly to meet Scott’s eyes, so full of life and hope. How… human. “We’re doing some exploring.”

“That’s what I was—”

“Why are you out by yourself?” Legs butted in, almost accusing. It was mildly irritating how fast Scott was getting used to being interrupted more often than not when speaking. Almost as irritating at how paranoid every mortal in this gods forsaken town was for no apparent reason. 

“Because I was going to get food…” Scott squinted his eyes at the suspicious group. “…as me and Shelby ran out?

Pyro nodded, “Brisk morning stroll, as well? It is a nice day.”

At the same time, the doctor shot out, “But where’s Shelby?”

Scott took another step back, brow raised. “Shelby’s at the house. Building.” He thrusted an arm back in the direction of town. “What do you mean?”

Legs blinked. “Oh.”

Scott laughed, shaking his head at the paranoid group. “Town is literally just on the other side of that hill. I’m really not far away!”

The group peered in the direction he had pointed before looking at each other and nodding, properly chastised. It was Apo who spoke up first, “We were underground for…”

The doctor cut in as she trailed off, “You said we were far away!”

“What? No, just on the other side of those trees right there is town.” Scott was nothing if not convincing. 

“Oh.” The shunning seemed to finally sink in for the man as he looked at his feet, not unlike a scolded child. “To be fair we did about half this trip underground so we have no idea how far out we are.”

There were murmurs of agreement as the group talked over each other, Scott holding back a groan. He watched as they continued speaking, discussing what they had found. Well, some of them. Pyro seemed entirely invested in giving his undivided attention to the pig while Apo was dividing her attention between the others and skeptically glancing at Scott. So paranoid. Reasonably so, but still. 

Scott eventually bid fair well to the group as he felt hunger pang through his stomach, red beginning to creep into his vision. Best to find another animal sooner rather than later, before he lunged at one of the mortals in town. At least for now.

—_-+-_—

“Now, this is a sight to behold.”

He did not, in fact, jump. If his Sire were to tell anyone otherwise, then he is nothing but a filthy liar.

Scott had been in the midst of attempting to lead a sheep back to town with a bundle of wheat he had been given by Cleo, their farm coming along nicely, evidently far too focused on his task, as he did not hear the little bat wings on the wind before his love had spoken. Clutching his unbeating chest with one hand, Scott whipped around to glare at Avid, wheat clutched tightly in the other clawed fist. His love was perched in a branch above, having shifted back to watch as Scott struggled for who knows how long. Eyes narrowing, Scott only turned back to continue with his Sisyphean task as he spoke, “Well, the trek is made that much more difficult by the creature’s distrust in me. Not all Vampyrs are comfortable sitting as low in their power as you, my love.”

A rustling in the branches, a whoosh of air, and the crunching of dead leaves and twigs indicated his Sire’s drop from the tree above. “I don’t know why you feel the need to bring it back.” Avid walked around Scott, placing a blunt nailed hand on the animal’s head, the sheep much more comfortable with the mortal presenting man. “There are plenty of creatures in these woods for you to feed on without going through the trouble of corralling it back to town.” His hand shifted down to rest on the animal’s neck. “Not to mention, you’d have to find another and herd it into town as well. And forget breeding them.”

Rolling his eyes, Scott dropped the useless wheat with a sigh. Without a word, he lunged forward, latching on to the creature’s carotid, ignoring the cry it let out. As he fed, he felt his Sire’s hand move from the sheep’s neck to run through the lightening locks on Scott’s head, a purr building up in his chest. He had to be careful the color didn’t completely drain too quickly, lest the humans ask questions. He guessed he could always claim it was only a temporary color that had washed out though. 

Feeling the creature’s legs begin to give out, Scott sank to his knees to allow it to lie on the ground as he drained its life force, Avid dropping down next to him, fingers still entangled in his hair. Releasing from the still sheep’s neck, Scott leaned back into his Sire’s chest. He felt laughter rumble through the other, his hands moving to grasp his own forearms, pulling Scott closer to him in a sort of hug. Tilting his head up, Scott opened his eyes to lean towards his Sire. Avid met him in the middle, finally stealing the kiss he had been tricked out of the day prior. As he pulled back, Scott’s purr broke to let a whine break through. His love only chuckled at his distress, licking the transferred blood from his lips. Narrowing his certainly darkened crimson eyes at the other, Scott turned, yet did not move to pull away from Avid, who only laughed further. 

“No need to pout, my dear, I’m only teasing.” His mouth quirked in that crooked smirk of his. “Something you know much about.”

Shaking his head, Scott finally tried to pull away, only to be met with resistance as Avid’s grip tightened and he leaned back to fall back on the grass, Scott being dragged with him. 

“Avid,” Scott groaned. “My love, let me go. You don’t want one of the humans to come upon us, do you?”

It was a poor argument, they both knew it, as they would certainly hear them before they got too close, but Avid still let out an unnecessarily exaggerated sigh, releasing him to kneel next to the cooling corpse of the livestock. Claws extending, he began to cut into the creature. As he sorted the remains, Scott heard the other move to sit up as well before beginning to dig around in his pack. The two worked to separate the meat from the bone and bottle any remaining blood before bundling the bones, wool, and hide separately to be brought back to town for supplies. 

As they stood and began to make their way to a nearby stream to clean up, Scott spoke for the first time since they had begun working. “See,” he heaved a dramatic sigh, bloody hand reaching to rest above his forehead, feigning despair, “I’m not built for this manual labor. I’m built for drinking blood out of a goblet, looking incredible, and terrorizing people. My strengths are not being utilized right now.”

His love only laughed before replying, “Well, unfortunately, all of our goblets were stolen along with any and all valuables scavengers could find.” They both sneered at that. Stealing from the Goldsmith Coven, regardless of how the two of them had been unaccounted for and the rest of the coven had been… It was a crime that would be paid for as soon as the wretched barrier fell. Vampyrs were many things, and prideful and vengeful were certainly two of the most well known. 

“Secondly, you always look great.” Scott only rolled his eyes again at the odd wiggle his love was doing with his eyebrows, suppressing a chuckle. “And finally, we are in the process of terrorizing people at the moment. It’s always better when the terror is savored, is it not?”

Reaching the creek, they both knelt down to begin rinsing their hands of the viscera. Scott sighed, not for any need for air but for the dramatics it provided him, as he looked at his Sire. “I suppose. This game, however, is taking longer to begin than it usually would. These humans are simultaneously the most paranoid and the most skeptical group I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

Avid laughed again as he straightened up from the water, holding a hand down to him. “They truly are though. And the ones who do believe in the supernatural, somehow think that Vampyrs are still too outlandish to be real. What has happened over these past centuries to make humans this doubtful? Have Vampyrs really become so scarce?”

Shrugging, Scott took the proffered hand, getting to his feet. “Perhaps. They seem to be something of myth now, making our task that much more difficult.” They began to make their way back to town, pace steady, conversation continuing on the topic of the eclectic group that had made their way to the ruins of Oakhurst.

“There’s also, of course, Owen,” Scott added, ducking under a low hanging branch along the path. “The not-quite fledgling.”

Nodding Avid, brought one hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind an ear, still rounded, unlike Scott’s progressively pointier ears. 

“I was curious about him,” Avid agreed. “His scent is…”

“Off?” A single nod from the other. “His Sire was murdered just after his Turning.” The other’s eyes widened, realization setting in. “He then massacred the town, and then proceeded to…” Scott trailed off for a moment, the parallels of what led to both his and Owen’s centuries long slumbers finally registering. “Owen buried himself in his sorrow, waiting for the end so he could see his Sire again.”

His own Sire’s eyes softened in understanding. They had spoken in depth about the events that had led to the waking in the Goldsmith Crypt. Scott could lie to others, but he could never seriously lie to his love.

“He has agreed to a re-Turning. I offered.” That surprised the older. Scott had never once re-Turned a fledgling. All of his Childer has been his own originally, specifically chosen by Scott. But something about this one… Scott wanted Owen to be his. His Childe. “Have you had the chance to check on our nest?”

It was likely little more than mothballs and fabric rags, but the crypt had been in surprisingly better condition than Scott would have suspected after 600 years, so perhaps the nest room had withstood the test of time as well.

Soft smile still firmly in place, Avid only shook his head as he answered softly, “I have not. We could go check on it before heading back if you’d like?”

Shaking his head, Scott protested, “I can go alone. The humans will get suspicious if he were are both gone for too long.”

His love knew him better than that, though. He needed to see it for himself alone. It had been his nest, more than the Avid’s, as his Sire hadn’t Turned any fledglings since Scott. The rest of their Coven had consisted of Vampyrs turned by Avid before Scott, Scott’s Childer, and those they had both agreed to let into the Coven, some of which were not even Vampyrs. He nodded once more, “You’re right, as always. But you will tell me how it stands?”

Scott smiled, grateful to the other, as he only nodded. They walked in silence the rest of the way, parting ways just before the town came into view.

Chapter Text

Below the castle ruins, far back in a corner of the main crypt, Scott felt a round for the loose stone that would set off the, honestly ancient at this point, redstone mechanics. It took longer than it should have, many of the stone bricks having loosened and begun to crumble over the centuries, but he eventually set off the door, revealing his coven’s nest. If Scott needed to breathe, the breath he certainly would have been holding would have rushed out at the sight that greeted him.

It was exactly as he had left it.

Tentatively stepping forward, as if any sudden movement would break the illusion and the room would dissolve into dust and fabric scraps, Scott reached a hand out to gently caress the sheer drapery hanging from the ceiling surrounding the nest. The fabric swayed with the touch as Scott stepped around it to step down into the pile of silks and blankets, still as soft as they had been all those centuries again. Dropping to his knees, he pushed both hands deep in the fabrics, cool to the touch, if a bit musty smelling. He took a moment to sit in the nest and let the familiarity wash over him, the singular remaining space untouched by mortal hands on his estate. 

His nest. His in need of some rearranging nest, but his nest nonetheless.

Gathering the loose fabrics surrounding him, Scott began the process of emptying the sunken segment of floor of all cloth and pillows. Blankets were shaken and beaten out, pillows were fluffed and patted, and surfaces were wiped down with the cheapest and oldest of the fabrics. The nest was rearranged, observed for a minute, then rearranged again. 

Everything would be perfect for his new coven.

It had to be. 

—_-+-_—

By the time he was satisfied with the nest, the sun had long before set, and the crimson moon was high in the cloudy sky. Deciding the night was nice enough, Scott shifted, leathery blue wings stretching wide as he took to the air above the woods. 

The town was silent when he finally reached it, hours later after his flight and a slight nap in his bat form. The sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon as he slipped through an empty window to drop softly in his shared home, his roommate fast asleep in the single bed. Making as little sound as possible, Scott picked through the chest for the rest of the supplies he would need to complete the roof in addition to the stone he had gathered the day before. 

Less than an hour later, he heard stirring come from the house below. Eventually, Shelby made her way outside, dressed and ready for the day, if a bit drowsy still. 

“Scott?”

“Good morning!” He jumped down from the roof as he placed the last of it, landing with only a soft thud. 

“I didn’t see you before I went to bed last night?” They tilted their head, not unlike that of a confused puppy. “Did you make it back okay?”

Feigning concern and letting some genuine gratefulness at her concern, he only smiled softly. He was doing that a lot these days. “I got a bit lost on my way back after the sun set. By the time I made it back, you were fast asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb you.” Shock and something else replaced her confused expression. Dimmed hope, perhaps? “As I mentioned before, I am quite the insomniac so I only slept for a short while before coming out to finish our roof.” He used one hand to gesture to the aforementioned structure, turning to admire his work. For someone who rarely stooped to manual labor, he had to admit he had done fairly well. The stone was sturdy and flush to the rest of the roof and walls of the shack. 

“It looks good!”

Heading back inside, he added, “I also brought back some food for us. Some of it is being kept warm in that furnace there.” Eyes widening, she looked to where the smell of cooked mutton was coming from. “I’ve already eaten so you’re welcome to what remains.” He had eaten his fill before she had woken. Uncooked of course. “There’s also a parcel on top of it for you to eat later on for lunch. I’m not much of a cook so I can’t guarantee it will taste very good, but—”

He stumbled toward the chest he had been dumping the excess construction supplies in as a small body rammed into his with much more force than he had thought they could produce. Arms wrapped around his torso, he heard sniffles from where her face was pressed into his back. “…thank you…”

Scott stood frozen for a few seconds more before slowly loosening the other’s arms from around his ribcage. He watched the little human try to step back before he wrapped his own arms around her shoulders, pulling them back to him, his head resting atop hers. “Of course, Shelby.”

They stood like that for a bit longer, as the younger’s sniffles died down. Pulling back, eyes red, drying tracks visible on her cheeks, the short human looked down as she mumbled, embarrassment and shame finally overcoming them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that.”

Someone had hurt her. Likely not physically but deeply on a personal level. He suppressed a growl at the thought. No one hurt what was his. Not even before he had laid claim. Scott only waved her concerns away, lifting her chin up with one hand, meeting her amber eyes. “There is nothing to apologize for. Emotions can be difficult to handle.”

Eyes crinkled as her lips quirked up slightly despite the quiver still there. “You don’t seem to struggle with them.” They winced, realizing how that came out, but Scott laughed lightly, cutting off any amendments she tried to make to her statement.

“My… upbringing did not allow much room for feelings. I was expected to remain polite and content at all times, only shifting occasionally to neutrality. It is something I have been told I need to work on around those I trust.” His Sire was adamant about it. 

The hope in their gaze brightened. “You trust me?”

Soft smile still in place, Scott raised an eyebrow in amusement. “I would not have allowed you to hug me if I did not.”

Grin growing, she took a deep breath, wiping the tear tracks from her face, doing their damnedest to prevent a new wave. Resolve coming over their face, she stood firmly, no trace of her previous hesitance remaining. Nodding, mostly to herself, the mortal spoke once more. “You said something about breakfast?”

—_-+-_—

It wasn’t until the sun had begun to set once more that he saw his Sire again. Who had evidently decided he had not put enough effort into making their game a challenge.

A small group had gathered around one of the homes. Or, well, above was probably more accurate. Avid, M, and Owen were standing on the stone roofs while Drift and Pearl sat atop small wooden pillars to be at a relatively similar height. A sight for sure. Before he could catch what they had been saying, Avid caught his eye, mischief gleaming even from the distance, calling out a hello, drawing the others’ attention to Scott’s approach. Exclamations of suspicious greetings and nervous chuckles met his slowing arrival. 

Eyes narrowed, Scott called up to the gathered group, “You are all either really excited to see me or you were all talking about me before I got here.”

Drift was quick to reassure him, hands waving much too quickly in front of her, “Nooo, we were just—”

“I love your clothes,” Pearl cut in, excuse at hand.

Eyes darting to the other, Drift looked back down at him, eyes not meeting his own, “Yeah, we were just talking about… stuff.”

He nodded, contemplating their sad defense before looking to the wolf woman and feigning a flattered smile. Pointing at her, Scott spoke up, “Compliments will get you everywhere.” Turning back to the rest of the gathered gossipers, Scott continued, “See, I know something is amiss, though, because that’s normally the noise I make when I’m talking about people before they show up.”

“I’m just letting you know,” Sausage elaborated, “we were talking about you, but it’s in a good way. We were saying how beautiful your outfit is and how much we love it!”

Smile turning amused, Scott bit back a laugh. “Ahh. Well, in the future—”

“I was saying it was a bit old-fashioned.”

Owen was one to talk. Smug little fledgling.

Catching the eye twitch, Avid was quick to follow up, “Ah! In a good way. Antique!”

His love knew if there was anything Scott would get offended over, it would be his wardrobe. Murmurs of agreement and reassurance followed his Sire’s statement, Owen notably silent, mischief clear in his face. Little shit stirrer.

The conversation continued like that for a bit longer, Scott making his brutally honest opinions on Avid’s attire known. The man had been with Scott for centuries. He knew how to dress by this point, or at the very least, Scott made sure what he was wearing was suitable to be seen standing next to him. For the little game they were playing though, his love has decided to portray himself as much below his true standing, atrocious clothing fitting the persona he had donned. When the conversation turned to him, Scott watched his Sire realize the turn his ploy had taken. He always was quick on his feet though.

“Wait, where’s Shelby?” Avid peered around, as if he would be able to see her from his perch on the roof. Turning an accusing finger to Scott, he nearly yelled, “Where’s Shelby?!”

Shrugging, feigning disinterest, Scott only said, “I don’t know.”

“Oh, I passed Shelby.”

Completely ignoring the younger vampire, Avid hopped down from the roof, stalking towards Scott, “You were the one— You just saw them like two minutes ago, and you walked away?”

Eyes rolling, an action he had been doing a lot of lately, Scott took a step back from the finger in his face. “Yes. I went down into the mine to get some stone to add to our home. We now have a little overhang and a chimney.”

Coming to his soon-to-be Sire’s defense, Owen called out again, louder this time, “I saw Shelby earlier. She was heading to the Dead Wood.”

Shaking his head once, Scott realized he actually had no clue where his roommate had gone. “She went there already and brought back—”

“No, I was with her,” Avid cut in just after him. “I was with her, and then they went off to meet up with you, but now only you came back, and she’s not here.” There was silence among the group for a moment before Avid took off toward the gate, calling for the human. His love always was one for dramatics, regardless of the situation. 

Thinking on it for a moment, Scott felt what he could only describe as worry build up in his chest. Ignoring the apologies from the others as they ran off to wrangle Avid, Scott looks past the gate to the woods beyond. Perhaps he should go look for the girl. 

—_-+-_—

Shelby was nowhere to be found. After hours of flying over and through the trees, Scott had not seen hide nor hair of the human. Which did not bode well.

Eventually returning to town, passing Renhardt at the gate, he was greeted with at least half the town outside of the beacon tower, Avid trying to convince Apo to join him in his search for Shelby. 

“Doesn’t the military care about the safety of people out here getting lost?”

“Yeah, bodies”—Apo cringed—“bodies don’t look good on me, so sure.”

Cleo noticed him first. “Hey, Scott. Apparently, you’ve taken Shelby out.”

Pretending not to hear her, Avid called out to the gathered townsfolk, “Does anyone else want to go out and find Shelby with us?”

Nodding along, Scott spoke up, making himself known to those who had yet to notice his arrival, “Yeah, I haven’t been able to find Shelby. I tried to find her, but—” He felt his ears twitch as they picked up on nearing footsteps and a steady heartbeat. Burying the relief he felt, he turned to watch as Shelby walked up, picking at something on her skirt. “Oh, she is right there.”

Jerking around, Avid broke away from whoever he had been trying to persuade to join his crusade, “She’s right where?”

Ignoring him, Scott walked up to grab Shelby’s hands, much warmer than his own. “Shelby! I’m being accused of your murder!” Shouts of their name came from the group. “You were gone, and they all jumped to ‘Scott’s killed her!’”

Jumping in, speaking over Shelby’s confused gasp, Avid defended, “I didn’t say that! Specifically… those words.”

Reluctantly dropping the mortal’s hands, Scott turned, simultaneously putting himself in front of Shelby and blocking Avid from reaching her. He was getting much too attached to this human. He saw the glee and amusement in his Sire’s eyes as he got in Avid’s face, clearly taking notice of his possessiveness.

Crossing their arms, staring at Avid accusingly, Cleo joined Scott in front of Shelby. “No, you didn’t say that specifically. You implied it pretty heavily, though.”

Dodging around the protective barricade, Apo moved to stand next to Shelby, “Where’d you go?”

Shaking herself a bit, the human turned away from where they had been staring at Scott since she had returned. “Oh, I got stuck outside when it got dark. I was just going out for something, and I found a tower. But…we can go back in the daytime to get the beacon.”

Taking another step away from Shelby, forcing Avid to step back further, Scott thrust a finger to push into his chest. “I told you. I told you that she left while I went down into the mines.” Crossing his arms and looking up, huffing in faux indignation, Scott demanded, “You owe me an apology.”

Avid mumbled, an apology broken up somewhere in his mutterings.

Narrowing his gaze and looking down at his Sire, Scott shook his head, voice low. “No. Properly.”

Avid’s face went red, looking to most of the surrounding humans like he was embarrassed and irritated, but Scott knew better. He was flustered. He always was when Scott took this tone. He let out a still partially muffled and frustrated, “I’m… sorry!”

Tamping down his grin to a slight smirk, Scott took a step back, leaving his love to take a deep breath to ground himself, and addressed the rest of the group for the first time since arriving, “I don’t think this person is a good contributor to the town. I think we should kick him out—”

Pushing off the tower wall, Avid protested, “Hey, hey, no.”

“—into the night.”

There were more protests from around him, most notably from Avid and, surprisingly, Pearl. Speaking over the quickly growing in volume group, Scott elaborated, “If he can’t apologize for saying that I murdered someone, what’s he gonna do when there is an actual, bigger issue?”

Realizing there was a chance the townsfolk could agree, giving Scott the edge in their game, his love finally caved. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t mean to imply that you murdered Shelby.”

Sniffing haughtily, Scott turned his nose up again, “I wouldn’t kill my housemate.”

“Of course.” Smug bastard. Of course his Sire noticed his rapidly growing attachment to the human.

There was a gasp from behind and below him before Shelby spoke up, grateful smile on her face, “That’s so sweet you worried about me though!”

Nodding, letting a proud facade fall over his face, Scott added, “I even went back out to look for you, and that made it apparently even more suspicious.”

Shelby laughed at that as Avid looked down, kicking at the dirt. “I just wanted to go help if you were lost cause you’re my buddy, and you’re the only one who really believes me so…” He shrugged, the picture of embarrassed and chastised.

“It’s difficult to believe you when you start pointing fingers at town members.” Scott was so proud of his soon to be Childe. It would be so nice to have someone to bully his Sire with. 

“I know I shouldn’t do that. I just—we’re all on high tension right now.”

“We’re not no,” Cleo denied. 

Stepping around Scott and putting their hand on Avid’s shoulder, Shelby reassured, “Yeah, we’ve gotta keep our wits about us.”

“You’re on high tension.”

Agreeing with Cleo, Scott nodded, “Yeah, it’s entirely you.”

“It’s mainly you on high tension,” Legundo reiterated.

“How can you be fine?!” Avid seemingly snapped, really playing up the paranoia this time around. “The sky is blood red. There are monsters everywhere.”

Scott pushed down a grin as Owen asked, “Have you heard the tale of Oakhurst?”

“Tell us!” Shelby gasped, always one for a story.

“They say that it’s a red sky because every few hundred years there’s a massive massacre and the blood paints the horizon.”

Very dramatic, fledgling.

“It’s just plague,” Cleo denied at the same time Shelby asked, “What?”

“Where’s the massacre this time?” Pearl questioned, head tilted, finger on her chin.

“The last one was plague,” Cleo repeated.

Owen nodded once, eyebrow raised, “Oh, it was plague.”

“It was a plague.”

One more time Cleo, the rest of the group didn’t hear you that time.

Shrugging, Owen conceded, “Okay. Well, glad we had that distinguished.”

Entranced, Shelby pushed, stars in her eyes, “It’s happened more than once?”

It was M who answered them that time, “The last one happened two-hundred years ago so we’re pretty bob on for another.”

“Oh,” Cleo breathed. 

“Two hundred years?” Owen repeated, eyes going distant at the reminder.

Shaking off their surprise, Cleo continued, “Oh, well, it was a hundred years ago when my family died so…”

“This is bad vibes though.” Maybe Shelby could give him a crash course on modern slang because half the time he had no clue what she was saying.

“So, we’re due?” Avid clarified, “Like an earthquake kinda thing, basically.”

Cleo, of course, looked at his Sire like he was a moron. A usual look for them. “No, you can’t be due for the plague!”

“I hear it was actually rabies,” Owen added helpfully. An absolute lie, as the man had been in the ground a hundred years ago.

Cleo continued, speaking over him, “It just doesn’t exist. It’s silly.”

Shooting a sideways glance at Cleo, Owen turned to Legundo. “Is that what you were saying doctor?”

The man nodded, “It could have been rabies, mass hysteria…” He shrugged. “There’s all sorts of different theories.”

An impish grin came over the not-quite fledgling’s face. “The town’s folk turned on each other and ate each other!” Avid’s murmurs of Vampyrs went mostly ignored. Turning to him, Owen grinned. “What if you’re next?”

Cleo hummed. “I mean, honestly, there’s only one person we’d turn on.”

“Yeah,” Scott’s grin stretched further as he turned to his Sire. “Someone’s looking—well—”

Avid shook his head excessively, “I’d be very gamy.”

“—he wouldn’t be appetizing,” Scott agreed.

Avid nodded vehemently, “And tough.”

“Yeah.”

“And I would be tasteless.”

“You would actually be really bad to eat.”

Avid laughed at that, knowing the other had fed off of him mere days before. “Thank you… I think…”

Pushing a joking expression over his amused grin, Scott backtracked, “Not that I eat people, but he looks really bland.”

Rolling his eyes, Owen gracelessly changed the subject. “Alright, let’s get back to various things like building this house.”

There were murmurs of agreement as the lumberjack walked off. As the group disperse, Scott caught his Sire’s eyes as they departed, face turning serious for a moment before nodding. The other nodded back, message received. 

The nest was ready.

Joining Shelby on the short trek back to their shack, Scott filled her in on the updates to the building he had made in her absence. 

Nodding along, Shelby suddenly lit up, remembering something. “Oh, oh! And I have—We have enough wool for a second bed now!”

Amused at her excitement, Scott put a hand on her shoulder. “That will be nice. Good job!”

They beamed at him. “Maybe you’ll be able to sleep a bit better now.”

Scott only smiled at her. It’s not as if he really needed sleep all that much.

It was at the tail end of a conversation with M that Owen returned, housework evidently done for the time being.

Shelby wiped tears from her eyes as her laughter died off. “Man, I almost became part of a murder mystery.”

“I know,” Scott laughed with her.

“Crazy. I won’t leave again.”

Shaking his head at them, Scott turned his attention to Owen. “You mentioned the tree place?”

The two had run into each other when Scott had been searching the surrounding forest for Shelby earlier in the day, and Owen had mentioned a wooded area he had discovered that he wanted to show to Scott.

“Oh, the Dead Wood. Yes, yes, the tree place.” The group began walking towards the gate, coming across Pyro. “Look what I found here.”

Intrigued, Pyro walked over. “Oh, what did you find?”

Scott heard Shelby mutter to herself, “Tree place?”

It was an effort not to release a chuckle. 

“Found amongst the branches and the brooks,” Owen reached under his cloak and into his bag. Dramatically pulling his hands back out, he brandished an iridescent leather bound book to the group. “An enchanted book.”

Shelby let out a soft “oh” as she tenderly took the book from Owen’s grasp. 

Pyro’s face lit up, “Ooo, a book!”

Peering at the etched script, Shelby read out, “Smite.”

Raising a brow at Pyro as Shelby returned the book, Owen asked, “Are you much of a scholar?” 

Pyro nodded vehemently, “I am a scholar! I like to consider myself a little bit well-read but uh- what- what’s the book called?” He fumbled as Owen tossed it to him, nearly dropping it.

“I found it in the dead woods.” Turning to Shelby, Owen questioned, “Did you find anything while you were there?”

They only shook their head. “Just the beacon. There wasn’t really anything else, as far as I could tell.”

“Oh, I see.” Scott could see the cogs turning in his head before Owen slowly began to ask, “Would you mind showing me where you found the beacon?”

Cringing at the thought of returning, Shelby shrugged hesitantly, “It was that way.” She pointed in the general direction of the Dead Woods. “It was pretty deep in there, though. I don’t know how I feel about going back right now. Maybe another day?”

Before Owen could push, Scott cut in, “Perhaps Pyro would like to join us.” He both felt and saw as all three sets of eyes turned to him. “Shelby is not so keen on returning quite yet, but, Pyro, I imagine you would be interested in seeing a historical area of Oakhurst and potentially finding more of those books.”

Watching the trio, Scott took note of Owen’s easy acceptance at his alternative suggestion, Pyro’s joy at being asked to accompany them, and Shelby’s relief and gratitude at the easy out.

“Okay, well, I think it’s gonna be morning sometime soon”—the moon’s placement in the sky said otherwise—“so I might head out in that direction if you’re ready, Scott, Pyro.”

Scott only nodded shallowly.

“Be careful,” Shelby added, mostly directed at Scott. The worry was clear on her face. 

Confusion coming over him, Pyro tilted his head slightly as he asked, “Head out in the morning, right?”

Shaking his head, Owen just answered with, “We’ll be alright.”

Chapter Text

“What do you make of all this vampire business, Pyro?” Owen pondered, chopping away some branches with his ax. Scott would be shocked if he was able to handle the tool quite as easily while he was human given his slight frame. “All of Avid’s rambling.”

Pyro shrugged as he stepped over an overgrown root in the path. “I’ll know it when I see it, right? There’s no point in overthinking something that I don’t have much information on, anyways.”

Scott let out a soft hum at his answer. If Owen’s clear intentions earlier were any indication, Pyro would have a good bit more information on Vampyrs soon. “I still can’t believe I got blamed right away for a person being missing for such a short amount of time.”

 “He was really quick to blame you,” Pyro added, lips turning down slightly, concerned.

Raising a brow at Scott’s dramatics, Owen clearly decided he would play along, at least for the time being. “He was saying something about you stopping or interrupting a consecration?”

Scott heaved an exasperated sigh. “No this was- Cleo stood up, and I got blamed for saying it stopped.”

“Oh, I see.” He could hear the amusement in the fledgling's voice as he observed, “People are very jumpy, it seems, today.”

“I think it’s to do with”—Pyro’s voice dropped—“It’s a class thing really.” They returned to their original volume as they continued, “I mean, I get where they’re coming from, but I’m like you-”

Owen cut in, “Oh, are you upper class?”

Scott watched as Pyro’s face pinched and his expression soured. “Well, I was. I got cut out of the will, unfortunately.”

“I see,” Owen hummed.

Pyro nodded as their expression hardened into one of determination. “I’m looking to prove myself with some fine work, though.”

Owen shrugged at that. “I’ve never really possessed much in terms of material wealth.”

“Oh, really?”

Ignoring Scott’s clear jab at the obvious statement, Owen only finished, “Just a humble lumberjack.”

Pyro hummed at that as he asked, “Well, are you one with the immaterial? With knowledge and spiritual wealth?”

“I would say I’m quite knowledgeable,” Owen answered then added, too low for Pyro to hear, “more than I would care to possess.”

“Hm, so a bit of an intellect? Ok.” Pyro nodded as the topic was dropped.

The conversation dwindled for a moment as they made their way through the forest, path becoming less and less distinct the further they got from town. 

“How are you faring being away from the Capital, Pyro?”

They nearly tripped at Scott’s seemingly innocent question. “Oh, I uh,” they swallowed hard before continuing, attempting to play it off. “It’s been an adjustment for sure.”

Forcing his expression to soften into one of sympathy, Scott bobbed his head along. “I understand. It has taken some… getting used to, being away from my manor and on my own. It’s the simple pleasures that were seen as standard that have taken the most adjusting, in my opinion.”

It surprised him how true that was. Before his respite, the castle had been bustling and sustenance had been plentiful. There was no hiding his nature for every creature for miles knew who and what he was. 

That appeared to be the right thing to say as tension bled from the human’s frame. “I agree. Being able to just take a stroll to the library to read and study on various topics… I think I miss that the most.”

A scholar at heart, it seemed. “Reading has always been a favorite pastime of mine. I had- have one of the most extensive libraries back home with such a wide array of genres. Perhaps you could see it one day. It could use more appreciation.”

Fates knew his Sire preferred his alchemy lab over Scott’s library any day. 

He watched as the other’s eyes lit up at the prospect. “I think… I would like that very much.”

Taking note of his soon to be Childe’s silence, Scott asked, “Do you enjoy reading, Owen?”

Narrowed eyes darted to meet his own, Owen walked in silence before raising his shoulders in a half shrug. “I wouldn’t know. I never received a formal education so my reading skills are… lacking.”

Scott hummed softly, genuine care seeping into his voice. “I suppose you will have to visit as well so that I might help you reconcile that. Don’t you agree?”

Owen’s suspicious gaze dropped at that in favor of shock. So many emotions swirled in his deep brown eyes that Scott had trouble discerning exactly what he was thinking. Hesitantly the younger nodded slightly before replying softly, “I suppose I will…”

The trek through the forest went on in silence for a while after that, the only sounds being the steady footfalls and occasional snapping of a limb with Owen’s ax, until rotting trees wrapped in webs of unseen spiders were visible across a stretch of water. Owen guided the trio to a path of stones that emerged enough from the river to be used to cross with a few well timed jumps. Scott put the conversation that had started up among the other two to the back of his mind as he concentrated on making the leaps while keeping his coat from dampening. The effortless grace he had grown so accustomed to in his centuries had dwindled significantly after his time in the crypt, power level dropping to that of nearly a fledgling. Pathetic.

Landing on the next stone, Scott’s eyes went wide as his foot slipped, his only saving grace being the heightened rock in front of him that he gripped onto, fingers making indents in the stone. It was a good thing the human was in front of him. “You never warned me that my boots and the rest of my clothes were going to get wet from this,” he grumbled, shaking his boot to lose some of the water that had gathered on the leather. 

Making the last few jumps, he caught the gleam of amusement on the fledgling’s face. Smug little shit. “Oh yeah. Sorry, my mistake.” The younger was clearly not at all sorry apologetic. “Well, here’s the dead woods. This is where I found the book earlier.”

The other two released sounds of acknowledgement as they made their way off the sandy shore. Looking at the decaying trees, Scott thought back to how the area had looked all those years ago. As much as he may not have truly cared about the humans that lived on his land, the land itself and the lively forests that it contained had always been a point of pride for him. He had humans, overseen by some of his Childer, assigned to watch over the flora and fauna to ensure the health and beauty of the forests. It seemed no one had bothered to conserve his efforts six centuries later. 

“It looks a lot different…” Pyro made no indication he heard him, but Scott saw as Owen’s gaze flicked in his direction briefly before he was shot at by a nearby skeleton.

Dodging the undead, Owen grumbled out, irritation clear, “I’m so hungry.”

Scott watched as Owen cut down the thoughtless creature before Pyro’s face brightened again, and they spoke up. “I’ve got some berries if you want some.”

Pulling some from his bag, Pyro passed a small pouch of red berries to Scott. Thanking him, he saw as Owen walked back over, putting a bone in his pack under his cloak. 

“Come again?”

“You said you were hungry? I’ve got some berries.” Digging another scoop out, Pyro added, “I’ve got some trail snacks as well.”

Stepping forward, he dropped a handful of berries and garlic into Owen’s hands. Repressing a hiss at the offending crop, Owen only said, “Oh. No. No thank you.”

Watching the shorter unceremoniously drop the offering into his bag, Pyro blinked. “Okay, alright then.”

Suppressing a laugh at the interaction, turns to Pyro, “This is so nice, thank you.” Receiving a nod and a small grateful smile, Scott began to walk further into the deadened forest. “How deep does this place go?”

“Oh, very far.”

Pyro raised a brow, “Really?”

Owen only nodded absently, continuing to walk on.

“Did you hear, or I guess feel, that there was a consecration of a second beacon?”

Scott cocked his head at the younger Vampyr. “Yeah, I heard about it. I felt it, but I didn’t-” He cut himself off as he caught sight of a dilapidated tower on a small island in the distance, similar to the one in town. “Oh, look. There’s one right there. What is that?”

Darting past him to get a better view, Pyro put a hand above his eyes, like that would help them see better in the middle of the night. “Is that…? My goodness.”

Scott could hear the grin and anticipation in Owen’s voice as he spoke, as if an idea had struck him. “Oh, we could do them a favor. There might be one there.”

“True…” Scott trailed, trying to read the other’s intentions.

“Yeah, I’ve never had a chance to consecrate one of these things before!” Pyro turned to face them, near vibrating in his skin at the prospect of learning about something so unknown. “Let’s give it a look.”

Making their way down the side of the cliff face, Scott let his own thoughts spin. This truly would be an opportune chance to get a decent meal, in turn giving him the vitality to re-Turn the not-quite-fledgling. At the same time, people would notice if one of the few townsfolk went missing, and Shelby had also seen the three of them leave together. If Avid thought he had a case to make it look like he had killed Shelby earlier, Scott would practically be handing him the opportunity to accuse him of double murder wrapped up neatly with a bow. 

In addition, Scott was growing to rather like Pyro but having one fresh Childe, let alone two, was already going to be fairly tedious with such a paranoid town of mortals. Unless…

He watched silently as Owen convinced Pyro to step away from the beacon for a moment before turning to face him, mask finally dropping for the first time since they had left the mines. “I thought that if the humans could consecrate these beacons, perhaps we could try to de-consecrate this one? Desecrate it, if you will.”

Scott nodded, crouching across from the younger. “I was thinking,” he started, catching the other’s attention, “that a human would satiate me enough to be able to properly re-Turn you. And I think you were having similar thoughts…” Owen only nodded once, just a jerk of his head really. “However, a full Turning takes more than a few hours, which is less time than we have to avoid suspicion.” He let the fledgling sit with that for a moment before finally proposing his idea. “But… if we were to all three return together with matching stories of getting stuck in the crypt due to a small cave in…” Scott watched as Owen began to catch on with his plan. “…then suspicion should be minimal.”

He waited for a minute or two, observing as the lively golden hue of the beacon in front of them began to dim, light dying, leaving Owen to ponder. After another few moments, Owen finally broke the silence, “Well, this complicates things.”

Scott only shrugged as he agreed, “That it does.”

Tilting his head, Pyro took a step back towards them, aura surrounding the beacon wavering “What’s that?”

Rushing to reassure the other, Scott called out casually, “Nothing.”

“I just don’t like sharing, really.”

The elder Vampyr couldn’t hold back a short bark of laughter at his soon to be Childe’s evident pout was clear in his voice. “No need to be jealous, fledgling.”

Owen narrowed his eyes, shooting a heartless glare his way. 

“Fledge…?” Pyro took a step back, the first trace of worry they had exhibited all night seeping into his face. “Hey, what’s up? What’s going on up here?”

“You’re not going to- you’re not gonna make this difficult are you?”

Pyro only tilted his head the other way, taking another step back down the half-hazard stairs Owen had thrown up, confusion and wariness taking over. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

Sighing, Scott hopped off the structure gracefully, Owen quickly following, landing a bit more forceful. “Well, Owen here”— he held a hand toward the younger, whose eyes were fixed on the human —“is sick.”

Some of the tension eased out of them, confusion growing, as Pyro parroted back, “Sick?”

Scott nodded, ignoring Owen’s huff at the phrasing. “You see, when someone like us”— he gestured between Owen and himself —“is born, we need to follow a very precise, let’s say routine. Owen’s introduction to our world, however, was interrupted.”

“What do you- ‘born’? Your ‘world’? What are you on about?”

Scott smiled at the human, fangs on full display, pointed ears flicking out from where they had been tucked into his hair. He watched as their eyes widened into saucers as they finally began to catch on. 

“You… you’re a…” Pyro took a few more rushed steps back, tripping over his own feet, before they fell to the ground, looking at what he knew was his own imposing silhouette against the crimson sky. Nodding slowly, encouragingly, grin still firmly in place, Scott watched the other force the word out. “…Vampyr.”

Bringing his hands to one side of his face, Scott clapped slowly. Once. Twice. Three times. “Good job, human. Now…” Scott cautiously crouched down next to the trembling mortal. “How would you like to join us in correcting this little hiccup?” Scott softened his grin, replacing it with a softer smile, one he hoped portrayed hope and slight pleading. “How would you like to join our coven?” He waited for a moment to let the question wash over the other before putting the final nail in the coffin. “How would you like… to join our family?”

Pyro’s eyes widened even further, if that was even possible. Scott sat in silence, allowing the concept to weave its way into Pyro’s mind. Letting the hope of having a chance of a family build. And build. Before…

“Of course,” Scott sighed heavily, looking away towards the water, “if Vampyrism is not something you wish for, I’m sure we can…” He paused for a moment, letting the tension ramp up, before letting another softer sigh go. “We can go on.”

Concern creased Pyro’s brows as they asked, “You can…?”

Scott glanced at the other, shooting his gaze back down, portraying the withdrawn and somber acceptance through his look and posture alone. “Perhaps…”

He could feel Owen’s confusion from where he began to straighten back up. He only hoped Pyro didn’t pick up on it. Taking a slow step forward toward the younger, Scott did his best to convey his request to play along with only his eyes. Raising a hand to the fledgling’s face, he silently begged the other to understand. He watched as the other, eyes still confused yet trusting, slowing shut his eyes and leaned into the elder’s open palm. Rubbing his cheek softly, Scott could hear Pyro’s heartbeat pick up at the display. He saw movement under Owen’s lids dart in the mortal’s direction, indicating he had sensed it as well. Eyes cracking open, Scott caught the understanding in them. Good. He leaned forward, tilting his forehead to rest against the shorter’s own, raising his other hand to rest on the fledgling’s face as well. 

Quite the display if he did say so himself. 

It seemed Pyro agreed. 

“How…?” He swallowed.

Hook.

“How can I help?”

Line.

Scott stepped back from Owen to gaze at the human, pushing hope onto his face and into his eyes. He held one forced rumbling hand out and watched the mortal’s gaze drop down to it. Slowly lifting a hand out, Scott observed as the other shook off the last of his hesitance, resolve setting in as he settled his warm digits down onto Scott’s own frigid fingers.  

And sinker.

—_-+-_—

The trek to the castle was made in silence, Pyro’s hand in his. It would be much easier to Turn the other in the nest than to Turn him elsewhere and drag their lifeless body back through the forest, Owen in tow. 

Making their way down into the crypt, Scott felt Pyro’s pulse pick up, doubt creeping in. Turning to look at the other as they reached the coffins’ resting place, Scott squeezed his hand lightly, a comforting smile settling on his face. When the other returned the smile, more relieved and grateful, Scott carefully released his grip before spinning around to find the proper brick. There was a soft click before the wall cracked, pulling the stone apart, and revealing the warm room beyond. 

True excitement finally filling his chest, Scott corralled the other two into the room wordlessly before closing up the wall once more, deep purr beginning to build up in his chest at the prospect of Childer. 

Twisting back around, Scott felt his chest begin to puff up in pride at the looks on the others’ faces. He had spent all of the previous day perfecting it. They should be impressed. Pillows and fabrics in all the right places, drapes covering the cold stone walls, giving the room a cozier feel. There were candles scattered about, unlit for the moment, kept out of the immediate vicinity of the flammable fabrics. 

Scott ushered the two to sit in the sunken nest as he grabbed some flint and steel from his coat pocket to light one of the candles. Watching the two hesitantly begin to toe off their shoes and step down into the nest, he took the lit candle and made his way around the room. The candles weren’t necessary for him or Owen, but Pyro did not yet have their enhanced vision and freshly Turned fledglings were often unable to utilize many if any of their Vampyric traits, at least for the first few days. 

The human and the fledgling both settled down, a few feet apart from each other, the maximum amount of distance Owen could manage. That wouldn’t do. 

Removing his own shoes and coat, Scott dropped down into his nest between the two and began to gently adjust them where he wanted them. Pyro looked confused yet complied with his rearranging while Owen only sighed but still let Scott shift him as he pleased. Content, Scott settled between the two, bringing them both closer, a low rumbling purr building up in his chest.

Pyro jumped slightly, looking down at Scott’s chest where the sudden sound was emitting from. Eyes wide, their eyes kept darting from his face to his chest. “Are you… Vampyrs purr?”

Scott laughed at his surprise, ignoring Owen’s slight huff of laughter and letting his slowly relaxing form melt into his side. “They do. You will learn that Vampyrs share many traits with our bat counterparts.”

The human’s eyes went even wider. “Bat…?”

He nodded, bringing a hand up to rest on the fledgling’s head, his own stuttered responding purr slowly starting up. “There is much you will learn.” He let a simultaneously soft and smug smile pull at his lips. “Something I doubt you will be all that averse to.” Red seeped into the mortal’s cheeks as he nodded. “But we shall get into your abilities later. For now, I will walk you through how this will proceed.” Pyro’s face went more serious, the weight of his decision finally sinking in. 

“The Turning process is a simple one, but it must be done properly.” He ignored Owen’s shift at that. “A fledgling Vampyr is born when a mature Vampyr drains a human until their heart stops while releasing venom produced from our fangs at the time of the initial bite. A Turning is successful when the heart starts up again, much slower than before.” He waited for Pyro’s jerky nod, indicating he understood. “From there, a fledgling will remain in a sleep-like stage for anywhere from a day to three, rarely any longer, as the body adjusts. Once they wake, the fledgling is driven almost entirely by instincts, communication typically being limited to sounds and feelings through the bond.” Catching the confusion on their face, Scott elaborated. “A bond is a connection between Vampyrs, most notably between a Sire and their Childe, Vampyrs that they turned.” He watched as understanding sparked in those intelligent blue eyes as they nodded. 

“Eventually, we will begin to introduce your system to blood from living creatures, but initially, you will feed solely from me while your mind adapts. Once your instincts recede enough, we will leave the nest to prevent suspicion from the humans.”

“Why don’t we just tell them? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

Scott’s previously low purr cut out, replaced immediately by a hostile growl. Seeing the terror taking over Pyro’s face, Scott did his best to force the sound back. Centering himself, Scott answered, as calm as he could manage, “Humans have never been understanding or accepting of our kind.” He pulled Owen closer, the other having tensed at Pyro’s question. “Not to mention, a Turning is an incredibly vulnerable time for Vampyrs, for Sires and fledglings both. It is better to keep them as far from a Turning as possible.” Before Pyro could protest, Scott added, “Not to mention the Vampyr hunter screaming about staking any possible Vampyr he finds.”

That stopped any remaining defenses Pyro may have had. Of course, Scott knew Avid would not be an issue, but it was the quickest way to get the other to not push the subject without ousting Owen’s past without his consent. 

Breathing in deeply, settling himself and drawing back up the calming purr, Scott spoke up again. “I apologize for snapping, but I hope you understand: Vampyrs and humans have always been enemies. Humans are driven by fear and will do whatever they can to get rid of anything they deem ‘different’.” Pyro’s expression shuttered at that. It seems his soon-to-be fledgling had some rather unpleasant experience with that. “Do you understand what I have told you? About the process?” A small jerk of the head from Pyro. “Do you have any questions or concerns?”

He watched as the human thought in silence for a moment. “Will it… hurt?”

“The Turning or the following days?” They only nodded so Scott took that as asking about both. “Well, the Turning itself is relatively painless. It has been… many years since my Turning, but the only pain my Childer have ever mentioned is the initial bite, which is soothed by the venom after a moment.” Pyro looked down at his hands, contemplating, as Scott continued. “After your transition, there should be no pain, only some overstimulation as you adapt to your new changes, and even those are only for the first few days.”

Pyro nodded again, flexing his hands. Scott watched as they steeled themselves, drawing up resolve from somewhere inside, before looking up to him, determined. 

“I’m ready.”

Scott smiled, doing his best to prevent his gnawing hunger from showing, turning it predatory. Reaching forward, holding his torso as still as possible in order to not dislodge Owen from where he had burrowed into Scott’s side during his explanation to Pyro, Scott gently rested one cool hand against the human’s jaw. Using his light grip, he nudged Pyro to lean toward him. As his hold shifted to rest on the other’s neck, he tilted their head to expose the column of his throat to the Vampyr. He felt as the human swallowed, briefly overpowering the sensation of their steady pulse on his palm. Scott leaned down, nosing at the other’s skin, inhaling the heady scent of a willing blood host. Taking a moment to locate the best point to sink into his carotid, Scott finally rested his lips against the mortal’s pulse point. Pyro inhaled sharply at the feeling as Scott ran his fangs lightly along his skin.  

A sharp gasp was the only sound in the cozy nest as Scott finally bit down. Everything else faded away as the warm sensation and taste of fresh blood filled his mouth. It had been too long since he had fed from a human. Six-hundred years too long. He felt Owen shift at his side as the coppery scent of blood filled the nest. 

Keeping his mouth firmly in place, Scott retracted his fangs and another wave of fresh crimson flooded his senses. He began to suck, coercing the life blood away from the living body in his hold. The soon-to-be not so living body. Pyro’s frame began to droop, their consciousness waning from the blood loss. All too soon, the other went limp, indicating it was almost done. Drawing his other hand to the body in front of him, Scott gripped one wrist, feeling the threads pulse grow weaker. And weaker. 

And weaker.

Until…

A living human no more. Only a corpse laid in his arms.

So he waited, grasping tightly onto their wrist. He waited as he felt Owen continue to rest silently beside him, still conscious but relaxed. They sat like that in the nest for a while, one hand cradling the pulse of a soon-to-be fledgling, the other running through the dark curls of his soon-to-be Childe. His coven in the making.

There was a deep, unnecessary inhale from Pyro as their pulse picked back up, much slower than a human’s own. The low, steady purr that had been rumbling in Scott’s chest ramped up in volume and in intensity as he felt the bond begin to settle into place. He leaned down and ran his nose against the weak fledgling’s head, moving his grip from the other’s wrist to snake around his back, pulling them to lay fully against him. As he felt his Childe melt against his side, he turned to direct his gaze to the body at his other side.

Now, for his other fledgling. 

Pulling his fingers from the younger’s hair, Scott released a soft chuckle at the growl of disapproval Owen let out. Petulant little fledgling, so spoiled already. 

“Owen?”

A low grumble. 

“Owen.”

One brown eye peeked open to glare at him. He looked more like a displeased bat pup than anything actually intimidating. 

Suppressing another laugh at the look, Scott asked, “Do you remember the details of your re-Turning I explained the other day?” The fledgling gave a half nod, as much as he could likely manage in his relaxed state. “You are ready? Sure of your decision?” There was no hesitation in the other’s face as he only nodded once. “Then, let us begin.”