Bloodlines: Severed Ties

Chapter 33: Splitting Off - Sylvia's story

Sylvia stormed out of the room, swinging the door shut behind her. Instead of a clash, she heard someone gently catch the door. She heard it part gently open to allow someone to slip through, before being softly closed with a click.

She didn't bother turning around. She knew it was James. Ever since they had been children, he had always done his father's bidding. Everywhere his father went, every wim every request, James was there to fullfill it.

This request just happened to be babysitting duty.

"Sylvia wait up," he called from behind her, but Sylvia did not. She flew down the stairs, into the main square of the Sigil. At first, Sylvia had been worried the square would be packed full of people to see her emotional outbursts. But right now, it was dead quiet. Not even a peep. A silent reminder of the futility of the Hunter legacy, how easily they could go from prosperous to dwindling.

Her foot steps echoed in the deserted hall as she strode strongly through it. Her hands were shut tight at her sides, shoulders raised in fury. Her teeth gritted together, she walked on.

"Just wait," James called out, closing the distance between them with a few quick strides. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her around roughly to face him. Sylvia was surprised that he had been so forceful with her, even more surprised his tiny child-like hands were even capable of turning her.

"What?" She demanded, still furious. James flinched at her abruptness. He had always found her to be a stubborn woman, with an explosive tendency. He wondered if she got that from her father or her mother, or if it was something she had developed from years of being alone...

"Walk with me," James said softly. He beckoned down one of the hallways with an extended hand. Sylvia turned her nose up at him, before deciding she most likely did need to cool off.

They walked in silence for a while, James with his hands behind his back, Sylvia noticeably stooped over, lower jaw jutting out in defiance. As they walked down the hall, Sylvia soon saw light reflecting off of a surface in the middle of the hall. As she approached it, she saw that is was a glass cabinet.

Her pace slowed as she eyed the cabinet with curiosity. Most of the walls were adorned in the Regalia colours of red and gold, paintings and portraits. A couple of weapons here and there, and armour sets. But this felt... More special somehow.

As she walked up to the cabinet, she saw a large embroided piece of fabric. In the middle, the insignia for the Hunter Sigil. Two swords overlapping at the bottom, and an open book at the top to symbolise the strength and knowledge of the Hunters.

Around the Sigil, however, were the names of the families with their family crest. Each crest was joined to the main sigil with a flourish of delicate swirls and flowers. Sylvia felt herself growing closer to the cabinet, pressing her palm up to the cool, smooth glass.

Regalia
A simple crown was also stitched beside the name as an insignia, representing that they were the leaders of the Sigil.

Novacsek
Her mother's maiden name, they had a cocked bow as their Insignia.

Pallin
This was Zalla's family. They had a large greatsword resting atop a shield.

Jenkins
Sylvia smiled fondly looking at the Jenkins crest. It was a large battleaxe, with a circle surrounding it. She thought of Darian's mother and father, as well as his sister Fleur.

But then Sylvia found her own family sigil.

Trellom
It proudly stated. Two swords overlapped one another, reflecting the duel wielding nature of their fighting style. Sylvia paused, staring intensely at it.

She dragged her eyes away, to see there were other names around the Sigil. Or rather, there used to be. Dark burn marks scorched the fabric, erasing family names and crests as the people they represented died off. There were a dozen or so of them, all black marks marring the otherwise perfect parchment.

Sylvia felt her face drop, her lips becoming loose and soft. Her shoulders relaxed as she stared at those burn marks, a solemn sensation growing within her. She then looked back at her own family crest. Barely holding on, only one threat holding it in place.

Her.

"What happened to your family was... Horrific," James said tentatively. Sylvia looked down at the floor, letting her hand slide from the glass case. She then turned to James, seeing the ernest expression on his face.

"You know what happened to them. Yet you stand by your father about this?" Sylvia whispered under her breath, looking James dead in the eye. He looked away at first, before steeling himself and looking Sylvia in the eye. His lips pressed into a thin line, and Sylvia could tell he was about to put on his political voice.

But he didn't.

Instead he stepped forward, placing a hand on Sylvia's upper arm. His fingers gently laced around, as he gently tugged her to face the cabinet.

"Look at them. All of them. Snuffed out like a light," he began, and Sylvia felt her eyes wander from name to name. Scorch mark to scorch mark.

"There are so few of us left now, and we have to do everything we can to stay alive. Surely you would understand the pressure, being the last of your name?" Sylvia flinched at this.

She had always known she was the last Trellom, but had never really thought of the consequences. She had been ambling around the country side, trying to stay alive but always finding herself in trouble. But now she saw she couldn't just fight to stay alive for herself. She had to fight to keep her family alive.

"Difficult times call for difficult decisions. Ava is... A monster. But father believes that our alliance with her can save whoever is left here. You've seen what she can do when she isn't on our side," James finished his sentence, leaving a cold sensation in Sylvia's heart. She felt goosebumps on her skin as she looked into his eyes. Deep down she knew he was right, especially given their current task.

But she will have revenge, one way or another. Ava will die, and it will be by Sylvia's hands. And this time, she will stay dead.