At long last the harsh winter had finally broken in late March, and now it were long forgotten, no one remembered how the cold seeped into their bones for now it were melted away by a hot sun. Omor Dracula sat on a wooden stump within the forest, carving out slices from an apple, enjoying the peaceful act as it resisted the first touch of the blade before slicing smoothly into the flesh. He took a deep satisfied breath as that crisp, sweet juice filled his senses. He watched as small children played chase, laughing and screeching as they ran about their day, beaming more with pride at the sight of his little sister. In the beginning he couldn't quite pronounce her name, Daciana, instead calling her 'Da' to which the seventeen year old man still called her to this day. She were nine at the beginning of the year, nine years since she were born, nine years since his father died, but her resemblance to the man were a reminder to Omor to be more careful of his actions. He was a foolish child that day, acting purely on angry impulse. No one except himself knew what had killed his Tatâ, and being the only son in the family, it were up to him to provide money and food. Despite how ill he'd felt watching the deer die in the woods that day, he'd slowly grown accustomed to hunting and killing out in the wild. Even at the age of ten, two years after the accident, Omor managed to strike a deer down on his own. In a way it were therapeutic to do it, as though things had come full circle and both souls could rest at last. The only issue with hunting in a wood at ten years old, were getting your kill back home with weak small arms and whilst it were a tedious and long task getting the kill home, he'd managed it.
"Da!" The young man called, smiling as his little sister stopped giving chase and looked round to the voice calling her. Omor couldn't help but laugh softly as he saw the look of fright on her face as though she'd done something wrong. It wasn't long before she saw that she wasn't in trouble at all, running over to her brother with the brightest smile on her red shining cheeks. The girl threw her arms around the taller one, her arms wrapping around his legs as Omor's rest loosely round on her head and shoulders. "Aici, -" the taller man took his seat on the wooden stump so that he came level headed with the smaller child, eyes sparkling as he looked innocently at the girl and reached behind him for his Apple & blade"- ti-ai dori niśte mâr?" Waving the fruit within his hand. Daciana gave a nod of her head and eyed the apple expectantly. With a nod, Omor began to carve into the apple, heading a warning to her which she no doubt received from their Mamâ but it were more reassurance on his mind that she were given another as well. "Da?" He started as he began to slice a second piece of apple as she started to chew on her first "If you're playing in the woods, be careful of tree roots, and wildlife, it's their home remember that. If you're playing near water, never be alone, be careful of the rocks the water isn't always deep the further out you go, I'll teach you to swim soon, yeah?" Omor looked up to his little sister with a warm smile as she gave another smile "And don't talk to strangers, if you need help find me or find a group of people but never find someone on their own. Theres some mean people out there that don't want to help but hurt, understood?" As the girl took the second slice of apple and began to munch slowly on the crisp fruit, she gave a blank nod. Clearly these were words their Mama had already said. Omor placed the apple down, and brought his hands to rest between his legs "And remember, always be on the look out for Strigoi." He looked deadly serious at his sister, who finally stopped munching on her apple to look at her brother, a shy cheeky smile growing on her face because a small part of her knew her brother were teasing but another part wasn't too sure about the existence of monsters. Just then, Omor Dracula gave out a snarl, grabbing Dacianias tiny waist, pulling her close and pretended to bite at her but really only rubbed his nose harshly against her with grunting noises of a pig. The girl let out a screech followed by a squeal of laughter, rolling her head away from him to get away from his "bites". Omor stopped with a gentle laugh before giving the girl a tight squeeze of a hug. She returned the notion but only in a hurried sense, wanting to catch up with her friends and play, fleeing the minute she were free. "Be safe!" He finally called as he watched her disappear over the horizon. Omor cut a final slice of apple for himself before throwing the core away from him for either wildlife to finish or to rot into the ground, who knew, maybe the apple seeds would sprout a new tree, that was natures decision. Right now, he had to pick up his axe, saw, and join the other woodcutters at a separate area to where children played. The world were changing, and their small community were growing at a faster rate than they could ever have believed, which means more homes needed to be built, and more space to build upon it.

                                                                                    Same Day,   Mid-Afternoon

It weren't always appropriate for men to work without a shirt on but the sun on that summer afternoon were unforgiving and so the woodcutters had to remove them. You could tell who were in higher positions or lower just by body type alone. The larger men had more food at their table, more money to spare. The weaker, thinner bodied men clearly had nothing more than the clothes on their backs and stale bread in their stomachs. It made Omor appreciate the place that he and his family were in, they were neither rich nor poor, they simply had enough to make meals, to clothe themselves, and hold a home. Being young, the older, round bellied men put Omor to task, lifting, moving, pulling great fallen trees to stack in another area so his body type were nothing like the other two ends of the spectrum, defined but certainly not muscular. It were hard work and if anything the work of the job were useful as he learned to whittle wood, making all kinds of toys for Da, and building furniture or utensils for his Mamâ. Of course, the real money came from blacksmith work or --
"Sterge drumul!" Called the head of the woodcutters. Omor dropped the log that he were heaving, wondering why the man called to clear the way, and not the appropriate term of "Timber", only to see men & women riding on horseback, dressed in the finest of clothes. They were not royalty, though that were where a great deal of money lie, but instead they were head of the Kings money, a family of bankers, and that was a great deal of respect in its own right. The men of the company hurried to throw shirts back on or suffer indecency, as Omor grabbed his own shirt, slipping his head through the two holes, and popped back out again, his eye caught sight of a young woman. Doesn't the eye always catch sight of a woman? He couldn't stop himself from taking her in, her brunette hair or was it a darkened red, glimmered in the light similar to that of a lake not too far from here, her eyes were round and the darkest he'd ever seen, two pools of black night that he could just let himself be lost in, and lips pert and rose coloured. His stare must have burnt into her skin, for her long slim neck and delicate chin turned to look at him and she liked what she saw too, or was that a smile because she knew how other men saw her?  Omor tore his eyes away, though he did steal glances when he could, and instead focused on the man running the head of the team who were wildly gesturing with a bright warm smile, something he never received otherwise, to the finely clothed one. It were only a brief encounter which Omor couldn't wrap his head around, why on earth would you travel so far just to look at a clearing in the wood only to leave again? But as the rich left on their horses, Omor couldn't help but take a final look back at the young woman who in turn gave a final look back to him, finished with a smile as she disappeared around the corner. Though, Omor did not return the smile for he knew how rich women act with poorer men, they were a joke to them, a thing to tease desires & mock to other rich people. They played good common people like a fiddle, like a fool, and he knew not to indulge in their desires.
"What brings bankers to our neck of the wood?" Omor asked as he placed his hatchet down on top of a fresh fallen tree stump, using his shirt to wipe off excessive sweat collecting at his hairline just from humid heat alone.
"King has gifted them another home for their services. I suppose they feel we are poorest and need investment in our community." Petyr, the head, replied with a shaking of his head. Omor couldn't fathom the idea of someone owning more than one home, couldn't see reason to. When he looked at his life so far as a whole, one home were all that were needed even if he did share a small bed by the fire with his sister, and his Mama kept her side of the bed as though their Tata, her husband, were still there. Home were a private place to rest & shut the outside world out, no harm could come from there, only life, death, and everything in between could exist there. There was no need for a second home it just caused a split in your life, two places to leave your problems in to pick up later.
"It's only going to divide rich and poor, drain our resources. How long do you think it will be before we are starving just to feed them?" Omor picked up his hatchet once more, tapping the blade into the wood as he thought the idea over.
"How long do you think it would be until you are working for them!" Petyr roared out in laughter, a great belly laugh that echoed in the wood, giving Omor a slug of his shoulder.
"Over my dead body." Omor Dracula muttered under his breath.

                                                                                    July 1452, Two Weeks Later

The sweltering heat didn't seem to let up, a consistent heat day in, day out. At this time Omor didn't need to be back in the shade of the wood cutting down trees, the task were now in the hands of the builders. This wasn't to say that Omor didn't have anything to do, he still had to hunt, repair, and build but for now he simply let himself float in the lakes water, watching the wood in the distance that surrounded him and for once in his life he truly noticed just how busy that quiet, still forest were. Not just with birds, rabbits, and insects but also people too, shadowy figures passing through either carrying a great deal of items or on their way to carry a number of items. But that didn't matter to him right now, what mattered was the water cooling his body down. He'd liked to come to this spot on many occasions, when he were stressed, angry, or merely coming here to let his mind wander. As he floated he spotted a small deer walking out of the wood, checking its surroundings before craning its neck down to drink water but it stopped suddenly, looking upward once more seemingly looking directly at Omor as if it tasted him within the water. But then behind Omor came a female voice "Shoo!" and a thrashing of water. In his surprise, Omor turned around to find a dark haired, slim woman slapping the water, causing splashes to fly across the water though not far enough to reach him and certainly not the deer which were now fleeing the scene. As he focused, he saw that the woman thrashing about were the woman from the banker family that had moved in recently. He hated the fact that she found this spot, invaded this spot practically, his own private solace and now more than likely he would have to leave it for no doubt was she arrogant enough to claim a spot hers. As he began to swim away so that she had free reign of the water, she called once more "Wait! Don't go!" And Omor obeyed her orders, slowly spinning around to face her. She spoke no more to him, and he spoke no more to her. Instead, gracefully, she started to unrobe herself, revealing that she wore nothing else underneath except sun kissed skin that seemed to radiate in the sun. As elegantly as the deer that were briefly with them, she entered the water and swam to meet Omor, a smile painting onto her face that held hidden desires & secrets in her lips.
"Buna." She said simply, swaying her arms to keep her head above water.
"Buna, my lady." Omor replied with a nod of his head in a small bow fashion.
A soft laugh came from the dark haired woman that stuck and rest on her shoulders "Please, do not feel the need to address me as a Lady, I can hardly be such a thing when sharing a lake this size but bring myself close to a man. The villagers will talk." She whispered the latter, followed by a slow, perfect smile. "Antanasia," she began to swim around the man, eyes scanning at his skin, though unfortunately she thought to herself, that she couldn't see below the murky water at what his body looked like. Omor kept still, moving no more than his head from left to right to see which way the woman had gone, wanting to keep an eye in case she tried anything that could get him in trouble, for money outweighed truth. Always.
"May I know your name?" her thin eyebrows danced up, lips hanging open as she waited for her answer.
"May I ask why you are alone with a man in a large lake? Have you not claimed enough land here already?" Omor's own eyebrow raised. The woman dropped her head, and became coy.
"I didn't choose to come here, sir. Though, on discovery of you, I am rather glad that we did." Her eyes flicked between Omor's, whose own mirrored her actions, then dropped to his lips. Antanasia slowly drifted closer to the man, until she were practically body to body, nose to nose. His breath quickened below her, finding himself intoxicated by her grace, her playfulness, her power, feeling the anticipation rising in his throat until it were shut down by her next few words "I need a new stable boy." She purred against his skin, eyes drawing upward from his lips to his dark eyes once more. He faltered a moment, confused as to why she would lure him on like this, only to drop a job offer to him. "You looked the strongest of the men in the woods, and the gentlest of hands. Not to mention it would bring me great pleasure watching you, especially if you were to be watching me." Her words became light, tempting. Just then, Omor felt a hand take hold of his, felt it gliding under water, guiding it to come to rest at her crotch, the privacy of the water allowing her to perform such a brazen act. Though despite this, Omor's expression didn't change. He weren't surprised, he weren't offended. This were an extremely rich woman, more than he could fathom to think of, and the problem with rich people is that they always believed the poorer desperate for money, desperate to do anything for a small crumb of what they had, act the fool, serve their food, clean their shit stained clothes, and the rich would get away with it. A bright, devilish grin grew on her face that made her eyes sparkle like the dark, murky waters of the lake. "Do you possess the gentlest of hands, sir?" Antanasia whispered. Omor Dracula had to resist the temptation to prove himself, she were toying with him, knowing that if he acted upon instinct, she would cry wolf & he would more than likely be killed for indecent acts on a woman of considerable means. Carefully, he slipped his hand away from her grip, swimming back away from her in case she tried again. The man ran wet hands through his hair, letting the cool water trickle down his skin to calm down. 

"This is a small town Antanasia. There are many looking for work, more looking for decent wage, hmm?" he started to gain distance from her, swimming backward so that his eyes were on her the entire time. But Omor couldn't just leave in silence, that just wasn't his way. As he swam back, he called "What you might not also realise about small towns is gossip spreads like wildfire, and wildfire can turn dangerous. Except in this case, there is only one person who would get burned, and that would be me." The fact that the man were not alone anymore in his sacred spot meant that he couldn't let the sun air dry his skin before getting dressed, and now that he knew how advantageous Antanasia were, he didn't risk waiting there a moment longer, and instead threw his clothes on, damp clothes be damned.