Bloodlines

Chapter 7: The Living Forest

This dream feels different, it's not like the other ones. There's a sensation of warmth, light as if a fire is nearby. But I don't see anything, there is no image only darkness. I can.... I can hear someone.... Speaking.....

"You're not one for subtle suggestion are you?" The voice asked rhetorically. It was a woman, a voice I do not recognise. She sounds young, but at the same time wise with age.

"You're heading the right direction Sylvia.... You need to go south. You need to head home...."

Why though? Why do I need to go home? There is so much pain and suffering I want to forget....

"You need to face it Sylvia. The fate of the world depends on it. The orb, you need to get the orb before it's too late."

The orb, I remember the orb. I saw it in my dreams, you showed it to me didn't you?

"I did, and now it's time to go collect it,"

*

Sylvia rode for many days. She headed south, passing through towns that grew smaller the further she rode. Despite making the slight detour to New Nortia, the added funds meant that she did not need to stop off to take various jobs. Instead, she headed straight for her destination, stopping only to rest Porche and herself. The coin lasted the journey, thanks to her thrifty mind.

The emotions that had come swelling up when she squared off with Darian had been pushed down to the depths of her being by now. The traumatic past she faced, the sensation of loneliness and betrayal, and the urge to seek companionship with Darian once more, all pushed down so she could face the new task ahead.

Although she was doing as instructed, many questions still plagued her. Who was the voice in her head? Why do they want the orb? And what does this have to do with saving the world?

Sylvia remembered the orb from her youth, spoils from a hunt her parents had gone on, tucked away safely in the family archives below ground. But she saw no reason to think of the orb as important, it was just another prize her parents had earnt from their labours. She needed answers, and the only way to get them was to continue south.

She had spent about a week on the road when she finally arrived at Armalion, the small town near her family home. It was just as she remembered it; the small cafe her family would frequent early in the morning, the tavern where her father took her for her first drink, the inn where Darian and his family would stay whenever they visited the Trellom's. It had not changed in the half decade she had been away, except for the looming forest in the distance.

The forest looked aged, with tall oak trees stretching up towards the sky. It was dense, even with Sylvia's keen eyesight she could not see past the first few rows of trees. For such a massive forest, it could not have come from no where, and Sylvia sensed a great magic emanating from the place. She needed to investigate.

She entered the aforementioned cafe, leaving Porche outside with a bucket of oats. The horse was tired from the lengthy ride, often going for 12 hours a day, and was grateful for a rest. The cafe inside had changed very little. Quaint wooden chairs sat around circular tables, the intricate woodwork faded but still visibly Armalion by nature. The strong smell of coffee wafted in the air, warm and homely, and a plump middle aged woman busied herself behind the cluttered counter top. As Sylvia approached, the woman's eyes grew wide.

"Why, Miss Trellom!" She exclaimed, nearly dropping the small saucer she was carrying.

"Hello Mrs. Pots," Sylvia smiled, her eyes twinkling. Mrs. Pots had been so kind to her and her family, ever since they had slain the vampire who had killed her husband. She still kept the name, and considers herself wed to this day.