First Day At Vampire Coven

20260409

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

Xavier previously appeared in an ongoing/unfinished romance serial which starts here.

Standing here, in the doorway of this ornate and very Gothic hall filled with impeccably dressed vampires, is giving me unerring flashbacks to my distant first day at secondary school, facing the crowded cafeteria all alone. Trying to decipher the various social circles. Unsure where to start.
Back then I picked the least scary kid sitting on their own and sat next to them. I didn’t say anything, just sort of followed them around the rest of the day. It kind of worked. Got me labelled ‘one of the weirdos’, but let’s be honest, that was only a matter of time. However, I like to think I outgrew that awkward phase. And such a box may be much harder to escape when immortal.
My dithering is solved by a vampire who looks about my age but is dressed in fashions a century old walking up and smiling kindly. “How old are you?”
“Oh, er, thirty-eight.”
She tilts her head. Gives me a pensive look. Then probes “Is that your mortal age?”
“I… ahh… it’s how long I’ve been- was alive?”
“Ah.” Her expression is vindicated and somewhat superior.
I tell myself that’s probably fair. I am making a fool of myself.
And her tone is still polite as she says “As you said, life is behind you now. When we ask your age, we’re referring to how long you’ve been a vampire.”
“Um. Three and a bit months. I, I came with Alistair, but he said he had important business and I should go meet people…”
She clicks her tongue, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly. “Of course he did.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. I’ve gotten the impression I’m meant to be, ah, appropriately grateful and reverent to my patron. And I am very glad not to be dying of brain cancer anymore, I just… Alistair hasn’t been what I’d call an exemplary mentor so far.
To my relief, she leans close and murmurs “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s certainly a powerful vampire, impeccable magical lineage, but, well… you can see why he’s such a good university professor, can’t you?”
Having never set foot inside a university, I simply smile and nod.
“Come, I’ll carry out introductions on his behalf, while he deals with his important work.” She rests a hand on my shoulder blade and gently ushers me towards one of the groups. “I trust that he’s at least been tutoring you in the mystical elements? He excels there.”
“Uh, I’ve completed the classic invocations level six…”
“In three months? You’re clearly a quick learner. That will help.”
The circle she’s rejoining, with me in tow, has shifted to make space for me. Clothing runs from modern to antique, but all are well-made and, so far as my limited knowledge can tell, the height of fashion. I’m feeling terribly outclassed.
But… not alone. Even those vampires whose expressions are as distant and stony as Alistair’s are offering some kind of welcoming gesture. A knot unravels in my chest. Right where my unbeating heart is.
“H-hi. I’m Xavier. I’m, um, Alistair’s latest spawn.”
I’ve at least gotten used to my new name (mostly, I still keep going to put my old one when signing things) and referring to myself as a ‘spawn’. It does feel dreadfully undignified compared to the ‘donating’ vampire being a ‘patron’, but perhaps that’s the point. Driving home that you are, from the perspective of your new society, an infant all over again.
A chorus of murmured welcomes. Even some smiles - lips held tightly together, I note. I’ve been trying to get into that habit myself. Alistair says it makes talking to non-vampires less… awkward.
“Is this your first time at a Council meet?” One vampire, dressed fairly modern, asks with hesitant concern.
“Y-yeah.”
My guide interjects “Alistair will be joining us.”
“Ahh.”
The flickers of disapproval and annoyance, mild and well-worn, relax me further. And give me quiet vindication - seems you’re not supposed to just drop your ‘spawn’ in the deep end like this.
Then again, I’m not sure Alistair being present would make facing a social event less awkward. He seems to be one of those loner types who doesn’t quite understand why anyone would seek out company. Thankfully nobody seems annoyed at me yet. And willing to step in.
Introductions… probing about how I’m adjusting… questions about my studies… it soon feels less like the first day at school and more like facing well-meaning but stern elderly relatives who haven’t seen me in forever.
And when someone comes past with a refreshments cart I manage to drink a blood bag without getting it all over myself. A minor, bolstering victory.
Alright, so far being undead isn’t so different. For better and for worse.

Prompt was “Write a scene from the perspective of the youngest person in a room.”