England 1480s
There was but a singular presence with-in the dimly lit study, silently scratching away on the parchment sitting before them. Heavy curtains prevented any external light from entering the room, leaving those inside to rely on the various torches and candles to illuminate their work, if they were even troubled by the absence of light. At the old wooden table sat Gunhilda Redford, a pale and timeless woman, who currently managed the Redford estate whilst her husband managed the carpenter trading guild down near London. She was preparing to join him at the southern coast along with some of their inner circle of supporters, as their unageing appearance would draw unwanted attention if they were to linger in the region. The remaining attendants would take over the estate for several generations, managing the land until they could return in several decades when their appearance would be lost to time.
A sharp knock on the door signaled the arrival of a local cordwainer* and his new apprentice, a young lad of not even twelve summers. “Enter” cordially answered the lady of the manner, returning the ledger to the pile from where it came. The older craftsman bowed before her, softly grabbing the boy's head as to acknowledge her standing. He wasn't the first man who had been transfixed at her beauty, but now was not the time to feast on young blood. Whilst the older man moved the provided seating, the younger lad struggled to carry in a large chest they had brought from their shop in the village.
“Greetings my lady,” answered the older cordwainer. “How may we be able to assist you?” “There will be a delegation of roughly twenty retainers and myself down south. For our expedition we will require a few pairs of travelling shoes, in addition a few pairs of dress shoes. Are you able to accommodate my order?” The elderly tradesman was named Lewis had served the residents of the Redford lands for years as his father had, continuing his family's excellent reputation the surrounding lands. The older man scratched his balding and mole covered head, calculating the task assign onto him. “We would need several weeks to prepare such an order, maybe more depending on our leather supplies. Do you have any requirements or restrictions?” “No, just maintain your usual high standards.”
After a quick nod the assistant opened the prepared case of shoes, each carefully separated into compartments and carrying various sizes. On the currently vacated table the young man displayed Lewis' craftsmanship, showcasing the various designs readily available. “As you can see, we have several designs, thanks in large part to the patterns Lord Redford delivered from the coastal ports. Levi show Lady Redford the piece I have been working on throughout the winter.” With a clumsy attempt at grace, the apprentice produced a pair of pale leather indoor shoes, adorned with intricate inlays and fur lining.
“I will take two pairs.” Gunhilda declared, examining her purchase with some minor sense of satisfaction. “I will also take two pairs of those travelling boots” pointing towards a particularly thick pair on the table. “Take this list, those on it will pay you a visit in the coming days to get fitted. Each are to receive a pair of travelling boots and the black pair indoor shoes, The pair on the left-hand side.” Levi took the list, trying to awkwardly bow his head in respect. “Yes, M'lady. The new design will be two pounds due to the rabbit fur, whereas the others will be a shilling each.**” “That is acceptable, here is the deposit” acknowledged Lady Redford, taking a selection of coins from behind her desk. “Would you like a guard to escort you given the sum?” “If you could spare one, I will take you up on your offer, m'lady.”
Both Gunhilda and Lewis watched Levi put away the shoes they had brought to display their current range, the two old souls appreciating the ethic of the next in the line of many generations. As she watched the young boy scurry about, something familiar surfaced with-in her memory. “That boy, where did he come from? He doesn't bare any resemblance.” “I found him a few years ago, m'Lady. He was peeking through my windows as I worked.” recanted the old Cordwainer. “At first, I thought he was a thief, given his ragged appearance, but all he did was stare transfixed at my work. Each morning I would find him nearby, occasionally covered in bruises. My wife and I decided to take him in, I never heard anything from his family regarding the matter. It's a tragedy really.”
It seemed a familiar story, abusive parents and children looking for an escape. However, there was a nagging feeling in her mind hearing of Levi's past. “Levi? That is your name.” “Yes, My Lady.” the boy stammered, not mentally prepared for any conversation with nobility. “Who are your birth parents?” The kid clearly had some attachment to Lewis, but he wasn't the source of the piqued curiosity. “Daniel and Ellen Brewer, my Lady.”
If Gunhilda recalled correctly, they were also responsible for birthing their latest vampiric associate. The everyday affairs of humans who served beneath her were of little concern, however she had grown partially attached to the nameless girl they had purchased for a little land and a fresh start. Initially Wymond had consented to the transaction as a present to herself, knowing of her particular love of the blood of youth. Had the girl shown little promise she would have been food for several nights and dumped unceremoniously in an unmarked grave in the woods. However, the nameless girl had impressed the lords of her new home, enough for Gunhilda to not overindulge on her essence.
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“You have my condolences, Levi.” She said, voice held with dignity and without emotion. “Having lost both parents recently, my prayers are with you in your trying times. On this occasion I will ignore any lapses in proper etiquette.” The kid stood unphased, still trying to maintain his rudimentary manners in the presence of a noble. “I didn't know... do you” stammered Lewis, emotion rising to the surface. Before he could finish, Levi cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. “Neither did I until now. I am free of their grasp, including any sentiments of affection.”
Gunhilda remained poised, watching as the youth remained unmoved. “Your prayers are appreciated but unnecessary, M'Lady. It might be a sin, but they are not my parents, and I don't want to be reminded of them. My only hope is my older sister ended up in a place far better than the hell of those monsters.” There was a subdued venom in his words, mixed in with guilt and disgust. “Your sister?” enquired the noble, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “I never met her, as she was sold to some merchant before I was born. My 'family' took delight in tormenting me, comparing my life to her and threatening to do the same. I hope she is doing alright; they never gave me her name... if they even gave her one...” There was enough in the boy's story that aligned with what she knew of Victoria's upbringing, even if the girl never gave any specific details. “Here, take some additional coin. Use it however you feel appropriate, for: grief, celebration or whatever else you deem fit.” He accepted it, bowing profusely in thanks.
After the craftsmen left Gunhilda summoned her aid, wanting to confirm something. “Summon Father Fulke, I need a word when he is able.” It took several hours for the local pastor arrive, holding a heavy leather-bound tome as he walked through the castle. “May the blessings of our lord be upon you, Lady Redford” greeted the brown-haired priest, bowing enough to satisfy noble custom. “How can this humble servant of our Lord be of assistance.” The Redfords had an understanding with the local church, mutually benefiting both sides. The local lords masked their regular absence in church with a 'private mass' on the day of rest and sizeable donations were enough to dissuade any attempts to pry into their affairs. Most of the clergy distrusted the local lords, but found little reason to push the matter, given the relative prosperity of the region.
“I just had a visit from the local cordwainer” began Lady Redford, placing a cup of Father Fulke's preferred wine before him. “His new apprentice seems to have had an interesting upbringing. I was hoping that you could enlighten me as to the true nature situation.” With a sigh, the priest divulged what little he knew. “Levi came from a... troubled home in an adjacent diocese. When he travelled to our larger monastery for his first communion, he lacked even so much as a name. As we prepared for the ceremony, I bestowed on him the name of one of our Lord Jesus Christ's coverts: Levi***. After his first appearance that we did what we could, either by cleaning his welts or providing some food. Thankfully the Lord guided him safety into a better home, given his beginnings I was hesitant to advise of the passing of his parents.”
For nearly an hour Father Fulke told stories of abuses hidden from public view, not just of Levi and Victoria's 'family', but those of other parishes. Gunhilda simply listened, only interjecting for points of clarity. While she had lost much of her humanity, the needless cruelty displayed by her subjects was beyond what could be deemed as acceptable behavior. The guards would likely need to increase the use of public cucking****, discouraging the excessive discipline some parents wielded over their children.
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Africa 1480s
In the calming embrace of cool evening air Victoria lay awake and stared out the window of her assigned hut, embraced by the gentle arms of Juliana. After the successful capture of the Eloko, the victim's family were constantly thanking her and offering tokens of gratitude. Everyone related at all to the victim's family all eagerly offered their blood, each expressing their love for the deceased as the knife sliced into their skin. It took some degree of effort from her translator to limit their donations, as many would give considerably more until the point of anemia.
Kahina spent much of her time translating all manner of stories and emotions that only served to spark the long-lost sense of longing and desire for familial affection, albeit a minor sensation. The feeling of familial and communal warmth was a foreign concept that she had only observed from afar, having been denied such feelings during her formative years. Even her time serving under Lord Redford or travelling with various merchants always felt strained or transactional to her. She was however content at living through her familiars, even if she was unable to allow herself to break the barriers of social distance self-imposed upon herself.
In the emotionally charged atmosphere of family and community mourning, she needed some measure of affection to appease her suppressed urges. Leo had noticed her subtle shift in emotion, creating space from her duties to simply process such feelings. Victoria fell asleep listening to Juliana's mundane stories from her former life or the enthusiastic re-tellings Rose's time with the local children. Each familiar did what they could to fill the emotional void, over repaying the self-interested kindness shown to them.