CONTENT WARNING: A situation that's technically not sexual (well, not on both sides...) but the connotations are there (consensual, don't worry), worrying for a child's life, mentions of blood as well as a tiny bit of pictured blood. Mentions of murder and mental health issues (again, historical context bore in mind!)
Áine
Henford is such a beautiful place, especially when the sun sets. I can't see the moon, but I can tell it's out behind the sparse clouds. Reynold's definitely been in a...cuddly mood tonight. Róisín gets hyperactive, always darting about the house, spouting her babble and giggling at everything. Sometimes I wish us witches felt the moon's power as much as the mooncasters do.
I'd been waiting for this day since she was born. Tonight was a special night for any witch...deep down, a terrifying night, but tonight was a night for joy.
"Mumma! Look! Pretty! Look what I did!"
"Pretty! I did it, Mumma! I did it!"
My daughter's first ever spell! The raw sparks of the moon's power flicker between her fingers.
"Isn't this amazing! Look at you! You're a big girl now! Quick- I'll go and tell your father!"
I dive into our bedroom, shaking him until he wakes up.
"Áine, I have a sermon early tomorrow morning..."
"Her first spell! She just did it! Isn't it amazing? Isn't it- isn't it-"
Horrifying.
"beautiful? Go and see!"
Reynold
Before I felt joy, I felt utter horror, and not just that, but primal fury. I felt the wolf taking over in my mind. Anyone who dared harm my daughter, for her magic or otherwise, would fall to the wolf. Peterism can take a backseat where my family is concerned. I'm exhausted, but I don't want to miss this day for anything.
She's jumping up and down, cheering, sparks flying from her hands. I hope she doesn't burn the carpet or anything.
"I did it! I did it, Dadda! I did it!"
"Isn't that great? Just like your father!" I exclaim, only for her to give me a sad look. Am I that bad?
In that, I remember my father's mistakes. I didn't know my own magic. Most of what I know of my magic is from my own reading and trial and error as an adult. I don't want her to end up like me. I don't think it's too early to give her the talk on the matter. Even if she doesn't remember a thing by the time she's five, it's a start.
"Róisín, you know what this means, don't you? Now you've found your magic, it means that you have to be really, really careful with it. You can hurt people with magic."
"Wow!"
"No not 'wow'..." I say, laughing. "You see, you have the blood of a Lunvinchenaîné. Can you say that?"
"Uhh...Luh-vun-shee-nee?"
Close enough.
"That's right. That means you get your magic powers from the moon! And those powers are used to help heal people. When you're older, you can use it to help make people better if they hurt themselves."
"Oh."
"And when you have a lot of the moon's magic inside of you, it will make your eyes look sparkly and pretty...you're not interested, are you?"
I may as well be talking backwards. She's not listening.
I know what'll get her interested.
"And when you're bigger and older, you'll eventually find out that you can turn into a big scary werewolf!"
"A wiwoof!" That did the trick. Now she's invested. "Like Howly! Howly the Wiwoof! Wow!"
"Yes, like your toy Howly! And you get to be really cool and scary. But, the trouble is...If you're going to be a werewolf, well, a werewolf has a really scary howl, so you're going to have to start practicing. Can you give me a scary howl?"
Her 'howl' is adorable. It melts my heart.
"That was scary! But I bet you can make it scarier..."
"There we go."
She falls silent for a moment, and I await the many 'whys'...
"I wanna see the wiwoof."
"What? You're too small. And it's not a full moon. You'll have to wait until you're older and it's the full-"
And here we are. Regular toddler tantrums are fairly easy. However, it seems the moon is emphasising her toddler rage.
"I wanna see the wiwoof! Now!"
"You can't see the werewolf now!"
"But I wanna!"
"Look. When you're older, and there's a full moon, your mother and I will let you see the w-"
She clamps her teeth down on me! Why? Why does it hurt so much? She's three! Why are they so sharp?!
I wipe the blood off my finger. "Right- one more rule. Until you can turn into a werewolf- no biting!"
"But I like biting!"
The milestones are fun with any child, I'm sure. I love Róisín with all my heart, but both me and Áine have a lot of preparation to do. Áine hasn't been in her wolf form for a while now. She got so used to not doing it whilst she was pregnant that she's not thought about it much again. Maybe if Áine will show her her own wolf form, she'll lose interest in seeing the werewolf for a while.
I know I won't hurt her. There's no protective instinct quite like a wolf's. I just don't want her to be scared of me, but she also needs to see it at some point...maybe it's actually better if she sees it sooner and later, so she can get used to it. So she can realise that I'm nothing to be scared of to the people I love.
Oskar
I leave a note for Eli to say I'm away. It's late and he's asleep, but these past few nights, he's gotten up in the night to check on me. I tell him he doesn't need to every time, but it doesn't stop him.
The hunger burns throughout my entire body, starting from my stomach and spreading through my limbs. The dryness in my mouth and throat make them feel like they're on fire. My skin feels almost like paper. If I leave it any longer, I won't be myself. Whatever humanity and rationality is left in me would be shed in favour of primal survival, so as much as I don't want to do it...I have to make the most rational decision I can.
If I'm going to drink from someone, I'd rather it be someone I know, and with permission...and the only safe possible person to ask is a good friend, another lady of the night in a different sense.
Red...how I wish she wasn't dressed in red. Just the colour alone worsens the nausea in my stomach. Whatever she says to me is a slurred sound that I can't decipher. I lean against the fence, forcing myself to breathe in an attempt to steady myself. The other reasoning for going to Dinah is that she's seen people at their absolute worst, me included- it won't faze her...I hope.
It takes a few repetitions for me to understand what she's saying.
"You okay? You don't look so-"
All I manage to respond with is stuttering her name. I can't even make eye contact with her.
"You look like you've seen a ghost...are you unwell? Did something happen?"
The
upside of bloodlust is that I don't find myself counting bats over the
thought of drinking from anyone. Let yourself go without blood long enough and
guilt ceases to exist- that's why I need to do something. Now.
In a strange jumble of words, I tell her what I am. I expect something of a reaction, a reaction which I don't get at all. She just raises her eyebrows a little. Nothing really does faze her, does it? Do I make it obvious? Or is she just incredibly understanding?
"Dinah...I need to feed...It might hurt a little, but I won't-"
I can't gauge her expression properly, but a part of me swears I saw something in her eyes light up. Why would she think so positively of this?
She says something out loud, about me being sick, asking if I need a doctor- supposedly to shield the true nature of our conversation from prying eyes and ears. The fake breathing is doing nothing to ease the situation, nothing at all.
"What am I doing? I shouldn't have asked. I shouldn't have-"
"Oskar, calm down."
Easier said than done, Dinah.
"I'm not going to judge you for who you are, the way you never judged me for who I am. I understand this is probably incredibly difficult, and that you're suffering a lot right now..."
I can't even bare to look at her.
"...but I'm going to be honest with you, for your sake, I don't think I can say yes, only because...I've felt for you. I won't take it in the same way you'll take it, and I know you're not interested in intimacy of that sort."
Intimacy? Does she mean to say she has feelings for me? What's so special about me? On top of that...is she meaning to say that she'd be interested in me feeding on her?
In a sense, what she tells me is a relief. Even if that's how she takes it, even if I don't have any such feelings...is that so bad? If she'll enjoy it, maybe it's worth it. So long as she isn't traumatised or feeling manipulated, that's all that matters.
"Dinah, I don't want you to worry. I trust you not to do anything that would discomfort me. But you are correct. I wouldn't have the same interest in you- but I don't want you to feel as if I do not care for you."
"If you didn't care for me, you wouldn't be politely asking for a drink," she says, lifting me by my arm as I almost stumble into her. The warmth of her skin, and the throbbing pulse under her wrist...The one thing I hated about vampirism was the constant reminder of your true monstrous nature at any given second.
There's something about her I can't pinpoint. Something about her makeup, her eyes, her dress...something, now that I think about it, I'd noticed in many women- but I know it isn't an attraction. It's definitely not an attraction. I just cannot pinpoint what it is. All I know is I can't look away.
* * *
Dinah takes me to a small home just outside of Finchwick. Her bedroom is fairly plain, save for some furniture and the odd painting on her wall. She tells me she tries to make herself aware of art and culture, since her customers seem to see some allure to it.
I clench my fingers into a fist. The burning sensation is only growing worse, but I don't rush her. It's easier to drink from a frightened victim- gets the blood rushing- but I don't want her to be frightened at all. I'm doing all I can to make sure she's comfortable. That said, she doesn't seem frightened at all. If anything, there's an air of excitement around her features.
"Are you sure you're comfortable with-"
"Certain. But, are you sure you're comfortable? It may hurt a little, but you can stop me whenever you wish-"
"I trust you, Oskar," she says. "I've met many monsters of men in my line of work, and many kind ones. You're definitely not a monster- no matter what others might think- no matter what you might think. And if my pulse feels as if it's too fast...I can assure you, it's not out of fear."
The smile she gives me is more than genuine. The smell of her perfume is overpowering, but not in an offputting way. She's not afraid, she doesn't feel pushed. She wants me to do this...for some reason. I can’t say I see the draw to it, but who am I to judge?
I bring myself closer to her, reassuring her of what I'm about to do before slowly sinking my fangs into her neck.
She lets out a pained moan at first, and tightly grabs onto my hand. Gradually, her pained moans soon dissolve into something more akin to pleasure. She almost loses her balance. I grab her and gently lower her to her knees so she doesn't fall too far if she gets light-headed.
Your first taste of human blood after a long period without it...it's like discovering an oasis after a long walk in the desert. The salty, metallic taste fills every corner of my mouth and glides down my throat. Her blood tastes like a warm summer morning- there's something mildly floral about it, something that reminds me of the dew-soaked grass in the Windenburg bluffs.
She doesn't want me to stop this at all, but I'll have to at some point...I notice she's drooping a little, so I lay her down on the floor for her comfort. There's something about Dinah that I'm trying to work out...what it is about women like her that fascinate me so much.
The energised feeling quickly spirals into exhaustion; I probably shouldn't have overindulged. After a long period without properly feeding, the uncomfortable-yet-satisfying fullness in your stomach is almost sickening.
"You feel all warm all of a sudden," she says, in an airy voice.
I sit beside her and check her over. She's doing okay, thankfully. Her pulse is a little slower, but steady enough, and her breathing is normal.
"I think it's wise I stay here for a while, if you won't mind..."
"Not at all," she replies, on the verge of sleep. "I hope you feel better." She opens and eye and chuckles in a playful, mocking way. "Aww, you look a little rosy-cheeked."
The closest feeling I can think of, to match how I felt about Dinah, and by extension, many other women...it doesn't entirely make sense to me, but the closest word I can think of is...
Envy.
No, that can't be it... but the more I mull it over and over in my head, that's always the closest word that comes to mind. The way she carries herself with such sureness and grace, the hair, the dress, the makeup. There was nothing caddish or romantic about the way I felt about her. It wasn't an admiration of love, more as if I were admiring a flower for its beauty…and somehow wanting some of it for myself.
* * *
I realise I can't keep the masquerade up forever- at least, not around Eli. I realise that I need to tell him sooner or later about who I truly am. If he is to stay with me for a few more years yet, I'll need to be transparent.
When I get back, he's still up, reading.
"Eli? We need to discuss something."
He peers up past his book. "You look very...uhh...healthy?" He gets out of the chair and places the book back on the shelf. "Is something wrong?"
"Not quite. Just some things I believe you ought to know."
I'm not used to feeling so nervous, but the look he gives me isn't one of surprise. He looks more as if he's waiting for me to confirm a suspicion.
"I haven't been entirely honest about who I am, Eli. When we met, I told you that I was thirty-six years old. That isn't true. I've lived for much longer than that."
Eli nods to himself, and interrupts. "You don't like the curtains open when the sun is out because it's 'distracting'. You're mostly awake at night. When I see you eating dinner, you never look like you're really enjoying it. You think you're a 'danger' to me, and you're freezing cold."
Ah. So he did already know...maybe I'm making it too obvious after all.
"On top of that, you're worried about having let your family's 'legacy' down. If you were really thirty-six, I doubt you'd have cared so much since it wouldn't have been that long ago at your parents were alive. I appreciate you being upfront about this now, Oskar, but...if you'd have told me straight away..."
"I apologise, Eli. It was selfish of me."
"No, no, I didn't mean it like...How old are you, anyway?"
"One hundred and sixty this year."
"Oh. Not as old as I thought, then..."
I can't help but pinpoint the disappointment in his voice.
"Eli, I have no way to prove this to you, but I won't hurt you. Neither me nor Violeta have, or ever will do harm to a child. No matter what, even if it means having to seek out an innocent adult if things become dire...look, neither of us have much of a proper morality, but we have enough morality to not do harm to the young, or to the people we care about."
Eli simply nods and gives a defeated 'okay' before going to bed. I should have told him sooner, shouldn't I? I was worried I'd scare him away, when I should have been more concerned about making sure he trusted me. Even after one hundred and sixty years, I haven't worked out all of the unspoken social rules.
Violeta
There's a soft knock at the door. I wonder if it's one of the poor children asking if I have any spare food again. Though I can't eat normal food, I've gotten into the habit of keeping a few simple things around the house in case any beggars or visitors are hungry.
I don't expect it to be Oskar's apprentice at the door. He looks dejected about something. I hope Oskar is alright.
"Evening, Eli. Can I help you?"
"Yeah...Oskar just told me about him being a vampire. I knew anyway, but I had some things I wanted to ask you."
Normally, I wouldn't tell any other soul anything personal about Oskar. It was none of their business. However, I believe that Oskar wouldn't be upset if I told Eli about him. After all, he'll be living with him for a long time; he should know enough about him to understand him if they're going to have a good mentor-student relationship.
"Oskar is many things, but subtle isn't one of them," I say, attempting a joke that doesn't quite catch on.
"Thing is, I feel like he doesn't trust me. I mean, why didn't he tell me straight away? I'm just sick of it, Violeta. No-one trusts me because I'm Samuel Annorin's son, and I'm nothing like him. But no-one will ever believe-"
"Oskar knows you're nothing like Samuel Annorin, Eli. He probably didn't tell you just yet because he didn't want to frighten you off. Before I tell you anything, what do you already know?"
Eli gazes down at the floor. "I know he's almost one hundred and sixty years old, and...also, the other night, something happened. I found him cowering on the floor, and he kept telling me to get away from him because he's a danger to me. My father studies these sorts of things, so I'm not completely unfamiliar, but I don't understand what that was about, or how I can help him next time."
Sweet boy. He doesn't know it, but I appreciate what he does for Oskar.
"I won't go into too much detail, but I may as well fill you in a little on his history. He was thirty-six when he was turned. It was me who turned him, by his own request. He's incredibly curious, and wanted more time to fulfill his goals, none of which he really kept up except for the sculptures. He helped his family with their woodwork, but never did his first commission until much later. He's also been a soldier and teacher."
Eli's eyes widen. "That's quite a colourful history. I can't see him as a solider. He seems too nice to be a soldier. I've seen some of my father's patients that were ex-soldiers...Is that why he may have had that moment, then?"
"It isn't, no. Oddly enough, those years didn't seem to affect him too much. However, that problem has only persisted since I turned him. He often has intrusive thoughts about doing harm to people he cares about. He tries counting to distract himself, but it does more harm than good. What I will tell you, Eli, is if he does that, that's a sign that he'd never in his right mind think about doing harm to you. It's not the sort of thoughts he can control, if that makes sense."
As much as I hated seeing how much his own mind pained him, I realise that it's also what keeps his morals straight. If he didn't have such a problem, would he just feed from whoever? I'd never feel bad about having to drink from an innocent if I had to.
"Not only that, but...I don't know. I like him, he's great, but I often feel like we're not on the same page. I don't have another way to describe it."
"I think I know what you mean, Eli. I'm not entirely sure what it is, but Oskar's always been eccentric, even before he was a vampire. You might have to be careful with how you word things and try and give a little extra clarity, but from everything you've asked me, you're already doing enough- and I appreciate that."
It wasn't until I met Oskar that I realised how reluctant the world is to make space for those who think differently. From what he told me, his parents would always do what was comfortable for him, not what they wanted him to do, not what anyone else wanted out of him. Luckily, he wanted nothing more than to join them in their profession. I realise that, despite everything, we were both lucky to have parents who were only interested in what was genuinely best for us.
"I know it can be difficult to wrap your head around the mind of someone who's lived for so long, but I think you are both a good fit for apprentice and master. You both want to bring out the best in each other, and you both want to do what's best for each other."
"Thank you, Violeta. I'll try and remember that," he says, with a hopeful smile. "Whatever happens, being here is better than being at home anyway."
"Please do try and remember- and remember, if you need anything, just knock on my door- even if it's just to get something off your chest. I know we don't really know each other, but I owe it to you for what you've done for a good friend."
These warm, fuzzy feelings are still alien to me, but...baby steps. Slowly but surely, I'm starting to realise that the modern world is not the one I grew up in. Progress is being made, as meeting Shepherdess Clementia definitely showed me- and therefore I too ought to progress with the world, no matter how hard it can be to catch up with it.