Chapter 1.4 || Pleasant Conversation

“Well uh,” Henry scratched the back of his head before shoving his fidgeting hands into his pockets and turned his head up to the sky. “Is it true that you need blood to survive?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

“Right, sorry. I just don’t know what to ask really.”

“Nothing that piques your interest?”

“Well uh, what are those masks for?”

“Protection.”

“From us?”

“No, for you, and ourselves.”

“O-oh.”

Olivia let out a soft laugh. “Well, it’s not that I want to hurt you or anything. It’s one of the prohibitions Londonium requires us to follow when we’re on the surface. It comes off when I go back to Dante,” she began. She tapped on her mask, tilting up her chin. “Firstly, a lot of people don’t take the presence of fangs well when we smile or laugh. A glimpse of them is enough to send most running. A hundred years isn’t enough to erase the fear of strigoi after the war, and judging by the look in your eyes when you saw my mask, you would’ve done the same too.”

Henry opened his mouth to speak, but Olivia waved her hand stopping him. “—which is a totally understandable reaction, so let me just stop you there before you start apologizing again. It’s what we signed up for when my people sought safe haven. Every Dantenite knows that. The second reason is that on rare occasions some of us could not resist temptation, and when they get a taste, things can go south fast.”

“I’ve… heard some stories,” Henry replied, thinking back to the strigoi attack that killed Camilla and Jeremy’s parents. “Why does that happen?” he asked with caution in his tone. “I don’t want to sound rude or anything, but I thought duskwalkers should be immune to something like that?”

“We’re not immune. Blood, especially human blood, is like a drug. Others find it really hard to resist the scent, and especially if they get a taste. It usually happens to the turned, or the reformed of the War of Darkness.” she explained. “So we have these masks by requirement of the law whenever we surface, it blocks out scents, and hides our mouthparts. Two problems solved.”

Henry pondered for a bit, focusing on her words. Truly, they weren’t deliberately trying to hurt anyone.

 They’re just people who have been forced into a difficult situation because of who they are, that doesn’t mean they’re something to be feared, right? Still, understanding something does not make it any less dangerous. But it at least goes without saying that they do deserve some respect. They’re just trying to live their lives, same as anyone.

Henry pondered his next questions, nodding his head. “How about you? Have you ever given in?”

“Ha! Absolutely the fuck not.” she said. “Doesn’t mean I’ve never wondered about it. But you don’t tease the tiger and expect a hug. Better not, you know?”

“Huh. How about other places? Have you ever left the city? Thamesford, I mean. Why do you call it by its old name? Londonium” Henry asked. 

Olivia lifted a brow and looked at him. “I’m a lot older than you think. I prefer the old name. My parents are pretty old school too.”

“R-right. I mean.” Henry paused a bit. “Solus isn’t a big country. At all. And sure, Londonium is the biggest chunk of it, but there are surely other cities out there. And other countries too! Have you ever visited them?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, I just thought, you know. Being functionally immortal and all.”

“Ah, well I’m not THAT old yet. I’m just in my fifties. Trueborn.”

“Really?! B-but you look—well. Young?”

“Flattery now?” she giggled, shaking her head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, no! Please continue, I could deal with hearing more.”

Henry couldn’t help but laugh, his earlier fear now completely faded. He gave her a warm smile and a nod. “Well, if you are a trueborn as you say. If I recall, that would mean you weren’t turned in any way. You were just born a strigoi. R-right?”

“Exactly, been this way since birth.”

“That’s interesting, aren’t trueborn rare?”

“Well yes, but not really,” Olivia started. “The chances of a trueborn are only one in like, I don’t know, a hundred? Most Strigoi are impotent, but there are rare cases that result in trueborns.”

“I never knew that,” Henry said.

Olivia nodded at him, shoving her gloved hands into her pockets. “Well, glad I could be of help! Any other inquiries?” she asked. Just then, a tram in the distance started ringing its bell, announcing its arrival. “Oh! It looks like our ride is here.”

“It does seem so. One more question though, Miss Olivia. If I may?” Henry asked.

“Sky's the limit!”

“Right well, what exactly are you doing here though? I assume you live in Dante as you mentioned it before. Is there any particular reason for hanging out on the surface of Thamesford?”

“I’m one of the few who work here.”

Henry raised a brow. “But I thought Dante was more accommodating to duskwalkers than up here? Why find work here? N-not to judge or anything, but surely people here aren’t as nice to strigoi.”

“True, but I need the job. Not many opportunities in Dante, you know? We mostly have factory work, steelworks, but it’s cheap.”

There aren’t many opportunities? In a city of strigoi, made by strigoi? That didn’t make sense, but I guess if duskwalkers exist, then it must be true.

“Miss Olivia,” Henry cleared his throat. “If I may, what exactly do you do?”

“I am, uh well, used as a study for a university.” Olivia said. “They take samples of me, test various materials on it, study my anatomy, biology, and everything in between.”

“What?” Henry frowned a bit, turning to look at her. “Isn’t that a bit… dehumanizing? You’re literally just being used as a test subject, why do you let them do that?” 

Olivia tilted her head and gave him a deep stare, before turning to look back at the road, the tram stopping just in front of them.

“We should get on first before I answer that,” she said.

“Right.” The two of them stepped inside and remained standing, grabbing the hanging handrails. Olivia sighed and cleared her throat and looked back toward Henry.

“Well,” she started. “I’m not exactly human so that’s out of the question on human ethics. Yes, it does sound horrible. Still, the pay is a far cry from what many get in Dante. Opportunities are just better here. I guess I could have gotten a better job if I were human, but I take what I can get.  Besides, they treat me well and the staff is quite friendly. Sometimes I get invited to classrooms for presentations.”

“Presentation?”

“Students get to see a strigoi in the flesh,” she said. “See my fangs, my eyes, my ears,” Olivia lifted her hood just a little bit to show him her ears ending in long pointed tips a few inches long, almost like a small knife. 

“I see, it doesn’t bother you though?”

“Presentations? Not at all, besides if I felt bothered in any way, I’d resign immediately.”

“I guess there’s that.”

“Mhm.”

“And you’re going home for the day?”

“That’s right, I’ll come back to work by dusk. You know, ‘duskwalker’ things.”

Henry tried to hold back a chuckle but failed, covering his mouth. Olivia joined in, softly laughing. “Well, I guess I should be called a ‘dawnwalker’ too, with how the sun is almost up and bright in the sky. I got to get back to Dante before Sol fully wakes and glares down at me. I don’t want to get burnt to a crisp and all.”

Just then, a bell rang as the tram started to slow. The next stop was coming up ahead. Henry looked out the window to confirm it before clearing his throat. “Well, it seems that my stop is just up ahead.”

“Right, well.” Olivia tilted her head towards him. “If you ever have time, why don’t you come visit Astra Universalis College? Some classes are open to the public, it really has been nice talking to someone without them screaming first,” she giggled.

“Well, I guess that works. I’ll make sure to stop by when I’m able.”

The tram stopped as soon as it reached the station, opening its doors. “Forlornson station.” the driver’s voice echoed out of the speaker. Henry stood up and headed for the exit, only pausing halfway to wave goodbye.

“Glad to have met you, Miss Olivia.” he smiled politely.

“Likewise, sir Henry.”

Henry stepped off of the tram before walking to his workplace. It wasn’t too far, most probably a minute or two of light walking before he got there. 

The Notterbrigs foundry. Smelting metal and shoveling coal into blazing hot furnaces. It was one of the few jobs he could take on without any formal education. It wasn’t too difficult. Certainly tiring to the body, moving heavy metals and melting them down with industrial machinery.

The newly made steel would then be shipped out to other factories to be turned into whatever was needed. Weapons, walkers, foundations, and some more delicate machinery.

All that work would usually leave him with aches and pains across his back and shoulders, but he could hack it. Besides, it was good exercise, and it wasn’t like he planned to stay there his whole life.

He was saving enough to enroll himself at a university where he could at least learn a specialization. He would need it if he was going to support two new children at his home soon. It would take some time. A good course would normally take around four years. 

He didn’t know what to take yet, but he was sure there was something out there for him. 

For now, he’d have to make do.