Chapter Text
When Owen entered the castle the door swung closed with a deafening sound echoing through the great hall. Outside the sky was dark, clouds covering the small specks of light that shone through space.
The only source of light left to brighten the night scenery was the moon which could still be seen through the clouds, and the seldom placed torches along the path leading up to the castle. Owen could look into the flames of these torches and be thrown back in time 200 years. To him, it seemed that the dancing flames could suddenly transform into a raging blaze of fire.
Owen refrained from looking into the flames for too long.
Unless he loses not only others but also himself.
The door slamming behind him had brought him back to the present. To the things that are truth for now: such as the fact that humans once again roam in Oakhurst. Why Scott allows them to live, why he hasn’t killed them all yet, is not something Owen understands. Were he an elder vampire, one from a noble line such as the Goldsmiths, he wouldn’t hesitate to bring death upon the whole village. But alas, he is no one special, simply another monster lurking in this dark world. He can not exact his revenge when Scott clearly has som sort of plan regarding the humans. It would be foolish to bring the rage of an elder vampire upon oneself. Now, if only Scott could share his schemes that would make his life - or his undeath rather - a lot easier.
Owen wouldn’t claim that he knew much about the hierarchy in vampire society. After all, there was only so much that Louis could pass on-
Taking in the sight of the empty hall of the castle brings him back to the present again.
The castle is a much magnificent structure. Or rather, it must have been once upon a time. Now, it only leaves behind a shadow of what once was. Owen wonders sometimes how old Scott really is. Had he been there when this building was in its prime? Perhaps he had even been the one to order the construction of it? Whatever the truth, the fact is that Scott now has ordered its reconstruction. How ever he has planned to rebuild a castle is a mystery to Owen. As far as he knows, none of the vampires are architects. No one from the town either, for that matter.
When the people first had gathered here in Oakhurst it had been little more than ruin as well, Owen supposes. And yet it was now a living village filled with small wooden or stone houses. They had even put up a wall. Still, to build a little wooden shack is one thing, to rebuild a castle is another entirely. Owen himself would say that he could probably build himself some sort of house – perhaps one like the cottage he had lived in before - if the situation called for it. But being a lumberjack, his expertise lay more with structures of wood than stone.
Steeping closer into the hall and the beacon at its other end Owen dismisses his doubts. It wouldn’t matter wether he questioned Scott or not, for Scott was steadfast in his will and would probably not budge. Especially because of his status. He had no reason to listen to someone else’s thoughts, especially someone under him like Owen.
Owen let out a sigh.
It would just be a matter of time until he can move on from all this and stop caring. If nothing else all the townsfolk should be dead within 70 years, so if Scott doesn’t kill them before then it will only be a 70 years wait. After that, he could probably go to sleep again, anything to get away from “the coven”. Just the name, the thought of such a bond existing between the vampires is something that disgusts Owen.
Hearing multiple steps behind him Owen turns around. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear” thinks Owen. It brings a small huff of laughter to his lips.
Entering the castle like Owen had just minutes before is the elder vampire himself, followed by Pyro and Shelby. The two fledglings tail him on both sides and Owen can’t help but liken them to some lost animal or other. They look at Scott with a certain emotion in their eyes. Like he is someone to be looked up upon – it irritates Owen.
“Oh Owen! You’re already here!” says Shelby.
Shelby always has this certain quality to her, Owen reflects. No matter what she will always see something positive in the situation. She’s a “glass half full” type of person, is probably what some of the townspeople would call her. Not that he sees what sort of glass she could be, be it half full or totally empty. Perhaps this is some saying he has missed out on during the last 200 years. Or perhaps this was already a saying when he was alive, but one he never heard, being as he was never much around other people. It was of no importance. What he wanted to say was that Shelby really was too happy for this world. Not one human, or vampire, should smile as much as she did, even if her smile sometimes was somewhat meek.
Nodding his head towards her in acknowledgment, the then turns his eyes towards Scott.
“So how is it that we are supposed to restore this place?”
Looking at the faces of Pyro and Shelby, it seems that he isn’t the only one with this question on his mind.
“I don’t suppose that you have some hidden vampire magic you haven’t told us about?” Owen continues.
At this Pyro perks up. Even though he didn’t really seem that happy about the concept of being turned when he was human, he really took to his new life – er, undeath – like a fish to water.
“No, unfortunately not” Scott shrugges his question off.
“However, I have some knowledge in constructing buildings.”
Scott looks rather satisfied with himself in saying this. Owen thinks that he really shouldn’t look that smug, Owen himself would also have skills in various different subject were he to live as long as Scott.
“Well lead the way then.” Owen replies.
Pyro cuts in after Owen.
“Sire, I would be happy to learn all that you have to teach!”
As they begin to walk away further into the ruins Owen rolls his eyes. Pyro really should stop being such a suck-up. And Scott really doesn’t need that ego- boost.
ཐིᗢཋྀ
It has been a long time since Cleo last visited the castle. She remarks upon this once she sees the now finished structure of it standing tall before the moonlight sky. Last time they had been here, it has been little more than a fallen foundation
Walking across the still broken, but now more often traversed bridge leading up to the castle, they can see its tall spikes looming higher and higher. Once in front of the door, she opens it and steps in.
Inside, the building is just as cold as the outside. Or perhaps it is warmer: she has never been good at noticing temperatures. But they are fairly certain that if it is warmer inside, it is of no credit to the interior. The walls are dark and cold, and the floor covered by a single long crimson colored rug running down the hall. Further inside stands a grand table, along its sides finely crafted chairs of wood. The table itself is scarcely decorated, with nothing but a tablecloth and a few candle holders, none of them lit. Being creatures of the night, she understands that there is no need for any other light being present, unless one was to host humans in the hall. Still, latched to the ceiling hangs to grand chandeliers, with such fine details that they have to take some time to admire them.
They suppose that Scott must have heard them enter, for he arrives shortly after them from a doorway leading further into the castle.
It’s best to be on one’s guard near an elder vampire, and to keep things civil. Cleo thinks that in hand to hand combat she might be able to beat him, but sadly fights are rarely all that fair.
“I see that the castle has come along nicely.” She begins. Hopefully her expression comes of as friendly to him.
“Yes quite! I had some lovely help in gathering the materials and doing all the tedious work. It brings me back to have the need to build a new home like this.”
His smile is faint, but once he mentions something from the past Scott’s eyes seem to fill with something else. Cleo thinks to themselves that even elder vampires such as him must not be immune to certain human feelings then. It gives them a sense of calm, in some way.
ཐིᗢཋྀ
Pyro is walking through the halls of the castle, his shoes tapping on stone, then wood, and then carpet. He finds some sort of joy in thinking of this new home. To have created a place of belonging with the rest of his coven. He imagines that this isn’t to far from a castle Sire once must have owned. And what benevolence indeed that Sire is so kind as to share his knowledge and skill, so that they all might find themselves in a beautiful place such as this.
When Pyro first saw Scott, they had assumed him to be a person who had never had to work a day of his life. Simply a spoiled boy since birth. Now, Scott has – alongside his gift of immortality and companionship – given them a broader view of life. Scott isn’t simply a spoiled nobleman, but a man skilled in crafts Pyro couldn’t even know about. They wonder upon what circumstance Scott must have learnt to build such magnificent things. They must know all that there is to know about their Sire, where has he been, what has he experienced?
As he walks down the halls, he can hear voices from some lengths away. Coming closer to the grand hall in which the entrance to the castle is, he identifies Scott and Cleo.
He can just catch a small part of their conversation.
“-brings me back to have the need to build a new home like this.” He hears Scott’s voice.
Curiosity takes over their entire being, they simply must know their Sire better!
“Tell me Sire! When have you built a home like this before?” Pyro exclaims as he enters the room.
Neither Cleo nor Scott appears very startled, but both of them are good at hiding behind this sort of mask and not let any feelings through. Pyro quickly thinks how this must make for an easier time to manipulate social encounters, before he dismisses the thought in favor of the topic at hand.
“Ah, it’s a long time ago now, and probably long since destroyed. It must have been- no, I can’t quite remember. Either way it was before my turning to a vampire… I lived near this lake you see.” Scott smiles a bit to himself at this.
“I had these two little houses built, right into the side of the hills surrounding the lake. Or rather, I built a house for myself and had then to rebuild one for my…” Scott seems then deep in thought, before looking up at Cleo.
“You must excuse me, I suppose one can get a bit sentimental sometimes.” He sheepishly explains to them.
Selfishly Pyro thinks that they would rather have a sentimental Scott who shared his life with them than a closed of Scott like the one talking to Cleo. Still, Cleo isn’t a part of the coven, and shouldn’t be here for when such vulnerability is shown, Pyro supposes. Well then, they’ll have to pick the conversation up with Scott at a later date. For now, they simply stand beside their Sire as Scott finishes his conversation with Cleo.