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Soul’s Eclipse: There is no incest among vampires. When they’re changed, their lives “start over”, and blood no longer matters because they all share the blood of their sire- and the blood of the people they feed from. Teraeir is no longer Milae’s uncle and he hasn’t considered Milae or any of the Royettes to be related to him for quite some time.
If they were both human, yes, it would be considered incest. But not in this case. Good question though.
Walter Dash: Sure. I’ll just write Milae and Teraeir’s pronunciations since they’re the only ones so far that might be confusing so far.
Milae (Mee-lay)
Teraeir (Tehr-ay-er) Horrible at explaining things, I know.
afk: Imagine a big eye with long gangly legs. That's a leep. They tap their legs to communicate. Simple, yes?
oOo
From Milae’s perspective, it seemed there was a wall of clicking, snapping spiders with giant eyes flowing over him, a horrible wave that could only emerge from nightmares. In reality, there were twelve tall leeps crowded together and hopping towards him with single-minded determination, sewing needles, measuring tape, and long folds of rich fabric clutched in their clawed feet.
Milae all but screamed as they converged around him, flurries of harsh clicking drowning out any other sounds that may have been present. Sharp, bony knees jabbed him as they shuffled round and round, and the cloak his sire had given him to dry in was ripped away in a flash of talons that truly did have him screaming.
“LEEPS! Not so rough!”
He could hear his sire somewhere close by, outside the ring of long-legged creatures; the elder vampire’s raised voice was almost comforting in the confusing whirl of movement. Soft cloth of the deepest red spun, and then it was wrapping around his legs, hips, chest, arms, and at one point, even his face. Then the fabric was snipped and sewn, his legs were free to move again, his arms released, and the leeps hopped back a few paces, leaving him to stumble to his knees in his newly-made outfit.
Teraeir clapped his hands sharply and clucked his tongue. “You have the measurements. I expect a complete set of attire to be made by morning- GO.”
Milae didn’t look up when his sire approached, gray eyes only lifting when a hand gently tilted his head upward. He was hugging himself protectively, shoulders shaking as he attempted to still his frightened tremors. Milae whimpered as he was urged to his feet. Leaning forward, he let his head press into his sire’s chest, eyes clenched shut as he sent a silent plea for comfort. One he knew would be answered.
“Do not be frightened, childe.... they haven’t sense enough to be gentle with you, but they will not be bothering you again.” Teraeir soothed, a hand falling through his childe’s soft, damp hair. “Shall we take a look at what they made you?”
Milae shook his head stubbornly, drawing a chuckle from his sire, and was led to the dresser. Opening the tall cabinet door, there was a long mirror attached to the inside- and Milae couldn’t pull his eyes from it. His reflection stared back with equal shock, taking in unearthly pale skin, lustrous eyes, and long, waving hair. Looking down at himself, he had been able to see the small evidences of his changes, but this.... altogether, it seemed too much. And to see him held in his sire’s embrace, clinging to the dark creature, was strange. He knew he should feel disgusted, and in a small way he did, but the emotions seemed distant, as if they were far in the past- fading gradually with every second he spent in his sire’s presence.
Inevitably, Milae’s gaze was drawn to the soft red folds draping his body. It was an unfamiliar style, but he could not deny that the outfit was lovely. The material round his legs fell loosely and curved outwards from his feet before tucking in, ending in a gentle, pillow-like feel. His sleeves were styled in much the same way, while the fabric hugged his chest and hips, stretching slightly for comfort. Tucked against the back of his neck, a soft hood hung down a good portion of his back, easily accessible should he ever need to hide his features, or simply keep the cold from his nose. Despite the unpleasant creators, Milae found he liked the clothing, if not a bit grudgingly.
“Lovely.” Teraeir purred. His childe -was- lovely, just as he knew Milae would be. Taking the boy had been more impulsive than planned, but he could not deny imagining more than once his “nephew” in the attractive clothes of his kingdom, instead of those overly fancy rags made in Royette... The boy’s past brothers had never been nearly as striking, arrogant brats as they were. He was lucky his invasion took place before Milae was old enough to inherit too much of that distasteful Royette mindset.
As it was, Teraeir was having considerable progress in subtly molding Milae’s mind to suit his new life. One night was all it took for one of simple intelligence to fall under his influences, three for the more willful. Milae was stubborn, but simple- his mind would probably hold out, for the most part, until the sun set tomorrow evening. After that point, he would be another perfect childe.
Milae yawned, eyes fluttering as he was led away from the mirror. His feet stumbled, tripping one another, but he was held steady by an arm around his waist. Sire wouldn’t let him fall... no.... he wouldn’t fall...
Teraeir felt as his childe slowly went limp in his arms. When it became obvious that he was dragging dead weight, instead of assisting his childe forward, he pulled Milae up into his arms. Urging the door open, he stepped out onto an indoor balcony that twisted around a circular area. If he had cared to look over the railing, he could have seen straight down to the bottom floor of his tall castle, doors and separate balconies making a decorative circular pattern. Breathing deep through his nose, he sighed- his own slight show of fatigue. His bedroom was only a few long strides around the balcony.
Teraeir shifted the sleeping childe to lean against his shoulder, maneuvering them through the wide door without having to open it all the way. He stopped, brows raised in question as a tiny girl, hardly appearing to be older than five, came into sight, kneeling beside his large bed. She stared as he settled Milae on the sheets, wide blue eyes taking in every movement of her grandsire.
“Mire.” Teraeir acknowledged her once his childe was tucked in. He crouched by the still-kneeling girl, the top of her head coming only up to his chin even as he leaned close. “Did Charles not put you to bed?”
Mire bowed her head, blinking fiercely as her eyes began to mist with tears. “Master Charles went out tonight.... I got scared.” She whispered, small voice shaking. She leant into her grandsire’s hand as it ran through her thin brown hair.
Teraeir felt his lips tighten into a thin line of annoyance. He had forgiven Charles for his accidental childe, but he would have to talk to the boy about the proper care that younglings needed- especially ones changed at such a young age. Mire would never mature beyond the age of five, her mind wasn’t developed enough- so it was all the more important to watch over her at this stage, teach and nurture her to full potential. Teraeir had done his best to assure that Mire was cared for, but he could not be expected to take over Charles’ responsibilities as a sire. His eldest childe would have to be disciplined for this inexcusable behavior.
Gathering the sniffling girl in his arms, Teraeir gently tucked her in against one of his largest pillows, careful to lay her on the far side of the bed from where he and Milae were to sleep. He didn’t want to disturb her sleep with his plans, or allow her to become attached to him. Whether Charles wanted to or not, he -would- become a respectable sire, and Teraeir would keep the needed distance for her to acknowledge him as her grandsire- not her creator.
Milae shifted, sighing in his sleep as arms slid under and around his waist, holding him securely. His chin nestled into the cool skin of a shoulder, nose buried against a neck. Even in his dreams, he could scent the strong blood he’d tasted only an hour or two before. Bit by bit, something inside of him crumbled as the sun rose and he fell deeper into slumber.
“Rest in peace, Milae Royette.” Teraeir sighed, his eyes closing just as the first rays of sunlight sparked across the mountainside.
oOo
Mire (Me-reh)
Nieni: And now... It begins. Bwahaha… Bwahahahahahaha…. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!!
