Kindred
Harry had thought that talking to Emrys would be easier, but it had proven to be an almost impossible task.
His servants had told him that their master usually locked himself away in the highest part of the tower to conduct experiments and that it was difficult for him to come out unless he achieved a breakthrough or felt hungry, which could take at least two or three weeks, so he spent most of his time living with them while he waited.
What he didn't know was that the wait would be so pleasant. His body no longer ached, he was constantly fed dishes that he was sure were made by some chef, as each one proved to be more delicious than the last, and Rose had also given him new clothes until his now room's closet was full, so he was more cared for than ever in his life.
By that time, he had managed to meet the human inhabitants of what they called the tower, although he hadn't been able to leave his room at all yet, though it wasn't that he was in a hurry to do so. Between the food, the conversations with Emrys' servants, and the books they brought him, he was more than satisfied.
Speaking of books, Erik had taken it upon himself to give him lessons in the afternoon after his abundant meal, claiming that no child of his master would be illiterate, so he suddenly found himself learning things like mathematics, history, geography, and other things that were in the normal curriculum for children his age.
He was grateful because the Dursleys hadn't thought it was worth letting him go to school, so he knew he was behind in many things, if not almost everything. It was a miracle he learned to read and write by observing and copying his cousin.
When Erik found out that it was the first time he was receiving formal education, he seemed to take his progress in all subjects personally. Luckily, he seemed to have a talent for memorizing and understanding things, so between that and his avid desire for knowledge, the classes were very enjoyable for both of them.
Erik was an interesting boy for Harry in general. The older boy had long, black hair, usually tied back in a high ponytail or just held up with a pencil in a kind of improvised hairstyle. His eyes were the same blue as a frozen lake, and although his exterior made him seem like a cold person, inside he hid a warm soul.
Erik seemed to be constantly tired, as his dark circles were quite visible even in the semi-darkness of the room. He said it was because he still wasn't used to attending to Emrys at night, but Harry suspected it was because he stayed up reading or studying more than he should.
Apart from that, he was serious and even reserved. From what they had talked about so far, he had only been a ghoul for four months, so he was of "lower" rank than other servants in the tower and was assigned the heavier tasks. Despite this, he was diligent and carried out his own research outside of his service hours.
"So... the mas... my Sire was a wizard too?" Harry asked one afternoon during lessons. Apart from his normal curriculum, the servants had dedicated an hour or two to classes they called "vampire etiquette," which he found very amusing, although most of the classes only explained the basics they knew, as they were still human too.
"Yes, the master was once a wizard of great power. It is said that when he achieved the conversion to vampirism, he created his own path of magic and Thaumaturgy arts," Erik said, leaning against the room's window, which at that moment showed a beautiful mid-afternoon forest landscape.
"What is Thaumaturgy?" Harry asked, recognizing a word he hadn't seen before in the books they had given him.
"Ah, it's pronounced Thaumaturgy," the dark-haired boy corrected, turning to look at him. "That's what the magic of blood and other arts is called. It's one of the disciplines of our clan and the Tremere clan." Erik moved away from where he was to approach the younger boy and take one of the notebooks on the bed, sitting on it and picking up a pen. On the paper, he wrote: "Master----Tremere" and pointed to the words for an attentive Harry.
"The master and Lord Tremere are contemporaries... Both accessed vampirism through magic, and both founded their clans. Although we share some paths of magic with the Tremere, such as some Thaumaturgy rituals, the paths and ways of both are different..." Erik paused a little while writing "Tremere Clan" under Tremere's name, and "Myrddin Clan" under the master's name.
"I still don't know much about the Tremere clan, but I only know that they are the only clan besides ours that wields magic... Each clan keeps its secrets after all... Oh right, never call a lord 'vampire,' it's offensive and vulgar to them... you can call them lord or Kindred, only the master can you call Sire," he said, turning to look at Harry as if confirming he was understanding everything. The younger boy seemed thoughtful but nodded slightly.
"Rose said that you ghouls can have powers despite being human... Could you show me some of your power?" he asked expectantly. Apart from Emrys' display of magic when he disappeared, he hadn't seen much else, so it had occurred to him to ask the other boy. Erik seemed to think about it for a moment but nodded to the younger boy's request.
"Our powers have to do with the path of magic we have the greatest affinity for... From what my master told me, my affinity is the Path of Blood and the Path of the Lure of Flames..." The boy looked around the room until he saw one of the candles. He got up and approached it, carefully bringing it back to the bed so Harry could see.
"The Path of the Lure of Flames is as its name explains... thermal manipulation, although a powerful ghoul can directly influence the physical manifestation of fire..." He left a finger close to the flame. Harry wondered silently if the proximity would hurt him, but the older boy didn't seem affected. On the contrary, he seemed focused on what he was doing. Soon, to Harry's surprise, the candle flame grew to three times its size, acquiring a bluish color, although it soon returned to its normal size, and Erik put the candle back in its place.
Harry clapped as if he had seen the other boy do a trick. "That was amazing!" It was evident that he had been excited to see magic up close. Erik sat back down on the bed, although his cheeks seemed a little redder from the compliment.
"Thank you... Well, the Path of Blood focuses on the manipulation of blood itself: manipulating it, altering it, and everything that entails, as well as being able to perform rituals with it..." While explaining, he had searched his pockets until he found a Swiss Army knife. "As I said, a ghoul's power is based on the strength of their master. A ghoul might be bound to a fourteenth-generation Kindred and will be no stronger than a normal human nor have any special abilities..."
The knife made Harry a little nervous, but he trusted that the older boy wouldn't hurt him. He watched with some amazement as he didn't hesitate to open it and cut the palm of his hand. He wanted to stop him, but he understood that the other boy was still in the middle of his lesson on blood magic. Blood seemed to flow for a moment in Erik's open palm, but it stopped before falling onto the bed, returning as if time were reversing, going back into the cut, which was also closing.
There was a certain morbid fascination in watching the tissues rejoin on their own, and Harry couldn't take his eyes off that sight, completely mesmerized by what he was seeing. This time, he didn't even clap because of how amazed he was. Erik moved his hand as if checking that everything had healed properly and put the knife back in his pants.
"Wait, what's this about generation? What do you mean by that?" Harry asked, turning his gaze back to the other boy after he put away the knife. He wondered if he could do that in the future.
"Hm... Well, do you remember how I told you that the master and Lord Tremere are from the same era? They achieved immortality by their own means, so they are considered the first generation of their kind. When Lord Tremere bestowed his gift on someone else, that person became the second generation of Kindred, and so on. But the powers of the Kindred's blood become diluted, so the further you are from the first generation, the weaker you will be...
And since ghouls depend on the power of the Kindred they serve, the weaker the Kindred, the weaker their servants will be," the other explained as he began to gather the books scattered on Harry's bed. There was a bookcase in front that had been full at the beginning, but Emrys had asked for his books to be taken to his study, so it had been empty for the first few days, but now it was slowly filling up again with books that Rose and Erik were buying for Harry.
"So it's like they have children?" The generations sounded like that, like a father having a son, and that son having another son.
Erik seemed to laugh a little as he arranged the books. "Yes, that's precisely it. In fact, a newly created Kindred is called a childe, and that's why they call their creator Sire, because it's like their father." He finished arranging things and turned to look at the other boy, noticing the confusion on his face.
"But I'm not a childe, am I? I haven't been turned... Why then can I call Emrys Sire and not master like you do?" That confused him. He was sure he was still human, at least he didn't have fangs like the redhead.
He noticed that Erik seemed somewhat thoughtful with his question, as if he were considering how to say the following.
"I honestly don't know. I think it's because you're not a human like us, but you're a wizard in your own right, not because you were turned... Or it could be because the master wishes to take you as his direct apprentice and plans to turn you at some point... But I'm afraid you'll have to ask him that directly, we cannot question the master's decisions," he said calmly. "Anyway, it's a good thing, isn't it? Many would kill for a powerful Kindred to take notice of them."
Erik stretched a little and looked at the watch on his wrist. "Shit, I should have gone for the ingredients Rose asked me for... I'll be back later. For now, finish the history assignment and practice your handwriting. Anything you need, ring the bell and someone else will come," he said as he went for the jacket he had left on one of the chairs in the room and put it on. He stopped for a moment and ruffled Harry's unruly black hair in a fond gesture before hurrying off, closing the room behind him.
Harry laughed a little as he watched him leave so hastily, trying to fix his hair with his hands and getting up to go to the desk to do the homework he had been assigned. In front of the desk was another window that showed a different landscape. He wondered what kind of magic it was, as it showed a spectacular field of roses illuminated as if it were midday, despite being almost 8:00 pm.
Time passed faster than he thought, because when he turned to look at the enormous wooden clock on the wall, it seemed to be 10:00 pm. He put down the pen and yawned a little. Erik still hadn't returned, but he wasn't hungry yet.
-"Should I kill them? I doubt the master would care much"- Harry stopped in his chair, turning around his room because he had heard a voice near him. He got up confused, noticing that no one was there.
-"Why won't they let me go with the master?"- The voice sounded closer to his door. He knew they had told him not to leave, however, he was very curious, because the voice didn't belong to any of the servants he had spoken to before. Slowly and quietly, he approached the door. Carefully, and feeling his heart in his throat from the adrenaline, he opened the heavy wooden door a crack, and although it made some noise, he hoped it hadn't been enough to alert the other person.
He carefully looked through the gap he had opened, trying to focus beyond, however, he didn't see anyone, and the hallway seemed to be in complete darkness. Had he hallucinated the voice?...
-"Who?" ...-A clearer voice sounded in front of him, a cold voice that frightened him because there was no one in front of him that he could distinguish. He froze for a few seconds upon hearing the voice, clinging to the door because of the fear that overwhelmed him. It was then that he saw them:
A pair of red eyes watched him from the shadows, almost glowing on their own in the middle of that absorbing darkness. For a few seconds, his mind went back to the cut Erik had made, because those eyes reminded him of fresh blood gushing from a wound.
"Shit..." Harry thought before trying to close the door, but he knew it was too late, he knew they had seen him.