Merlin looked over at the boys sat on a wall, great, now he had bloody nursery rhymes playing in his head- even better, terrible puns! He sighed. This was why he should occasionally speak to people, and when he did was thought strange. Still, the wall-boys seemed to be planning nothing nefarious, complaining about maths and parents.

He rarely interfered these days, having come to understand something of the fanaticism certain druids had about keeping balance. In his distant youth he had believed it misplaced and apathetic with the lack of concern to individuals. Now he understood it was a carefully placed line, that stopped people like him from going too far, giving a clear border when everything, even good and evil blurred.

His link to Albion remained as strong as ever though, and it's balance of life and death was his responsibility. He had returned to a more active role in the world in response to a disturbance of that balance, and as he observed the pair before them he suspected he might have found the source of that; there was an uncomfortable prickling of memory, and it wasn't of the sort he liked visiting. There were many species in this world, most co-existing without too much trouble, and self-governing, discreetly.

Certain ones did not, could not coexist in peace.

It had been many years-thankfully- since Merlin had been faced with one of those that straddled the veil, and he hoped he would not be required, he decided to observe before alerting any of the agencies to his continued existence and risking what had been a fragile peace.

It took less than a day for him to be sure.

There were vampires in Stokely.

The good thing about small towns is that things are easy to find, they are predictable, and the next day being a Friday the boy would likely be leaving the high school. One of them living at the castle he was certain after hearing and following up the rumours of new neighbours, it was simple to work out the most likely route, wait and ambush them on the way home. Oddly both were in capes, though one obviously authentic and the other fake. Neither noticed being subtly herded off the road until the self preservation instinct kicked in.

He smiled as they whirled, one looking confused, but the other- huh, not the one he'd have expected- was instantly guarded. Oh, he'd seen that look before, this kid could recognise the sight of a predator, a hunter, Merlin carefully softened around the edges, lips twisting upwards as he folded his arms over his chest.

"So. That's why She's so upset, you lot stomping- well, flapping around all over the place.

Oh, come one, I'm not going to hurt you, unprovoked anyway. Didn't even bring the pointy wood."

Robin gaped, looking at Vlad, "'Ow does he know then?"

Anger and fear flashed over the kid's face, though he stood defiantly, glaring at the stranger, most likely from a great deal of practice thought the old man of trying to prove that he could not be intimidated.
He raised an eyebrow, "Though you are certainly prone to living dangerously, consorting openly with a breather like him," Merlin gestured towards Robin, "Going to a Breather school- in full uniform no less. Can't have been easy to convince your family."

Vlad scowled, "Who are you? We haven't done anything here."
Merlin's cheerful mask was infuriating, "I'm no-one. Just a caretaker of sorts. I met your family once, a long time ago. When your Father wakes up, do remind him the the terms of the Albion agreement remain intact. The skies may appear less crowded now, but this land already has its own monsters."
The youngest vampire swallowed, meeting his eyes steadily and wondering why it was so much harder to stand up to his father, "Are you one of them."
His expression clouded, "If you like. Depends who you ask really."
"You."

Regarding him carefully Merlin didn't appear insulted and answered in a calm tone, "Yes. Are you?"
"I don't want to be."
Merlin's eyes were sad, "That's not what I asked."

Robin jumped in on behalf of his already conflicted friend, "Oi! You can't just around accusing folk of bein' monsters 'ere. Vlad's too nice to be a monster, doesn't even kill spiders, an' even if 'e was, monsters aren't all the same. No more'n breathers." It felt weird to refer to himself that way, but clearly it was a familiar term to the stranger, and honestly he was used to others using it to mean him now.

"You're a loyal friend, especially for one who apparently knows what they are, but I was 'too nice' once too. It is what some of us are born to be, lad, and running from it relinquishes control to the part which is not human or humane."

He turned back to the young vampire, "Are you a monster?"

Vlad's response was quiet, "Only if I can't find a way out of it; yeah. I will be."

Robin glowered, "no 'e isn't. Vlad's a good vampire, I mean a rubbish one. Hardly cool at all."

Merlin looked at the taller, mouthy kid. "I was you once too. Insisting a friend couldn't turn evil. It's not as simple as it seems and sometimes the choice isn't made but forced upon you. Instinct is powerful." he turned back to Vladimir, "Avoiding the knowledge of what the usual process of maturing as a vampire is is foolish, it endangers you both. Good or not, your family are attracting attention Vlad. I have not informed the Slayers Guild, but care should be taken to abide by the old terms. If your Father reacts badly, tell him 'Emrys lives'. He'll understand." Blue eyes darkened with shadows of memory.

The boy nodded in understanding. "He's your monster, isn't he? Like mine is Dracula."

Merlin grimaced. "He is. It is. I am, but I learned to control it. Once I stopped denying what I was. Anyway, I'll see you both again."

When Vlad did pass on the message to his father the man paled further if possible and turned to whisper to Renfield, who looked confused, though from all Vlad could tell that was his natural state. Twitching and smiling tightly the Count had said something about having a word with Ingrid, which was unusual, and declared that the terms would be respected, however dull rabbits and sheep were getting.

Perhaps the Emrys man was right, he should try and understand while his mind was still clear, still his own, so that hid perception wasn't compromised before he heard something he needed to know. He just had to work out a way to conceal from his father his intent. Easy. Kind of. Maybe Robin could help him think of a vampiric enough lie.