Chapter Text
“Trevor!” A misty voice called into the forest, but the boy was curled in the boughs of the gnarled tree. He watched the clouds roll, the sun casting light behind them, turning the sky-bound sheep a soft pink. He was crying. “Trevor!” the voice called, clearer this time. He stayed in the tree, letting his nose bleed down his face, turning the crisp white hem of his shirt a deep red. The tree cradled him, swaying gently as the wind cooed a soft lullaby in his ears. “Trevor for the love of god!” The shrill call was just below him now. His bruised fingers clenched into a fist. “Please,” the voice started. “Trevor please come down from there.”
“No.” He spat and rolled over to hug the tree further.
“And why not?”
“They were hitting me again.” he rubbed an arm under his bludgeoned nose, taking the blood away and onto his brand new shirt.
“Come down for your mother won’t you dear? Me and Nana Bell will be leaving soon and I want to say goodbye to my little sun-bear.” Leandra Belmont stood at the base of the tree, her mail and leather armor ready for the saddle, her whip and sword seated comfortably on her hip. Trevor sniffled, and she waited. He rolled and began to climb down, landing a few feet away from his mother. “Oh, you poor thing.” He was covered in blood and bruises, a painful reminder of his distant uncle Gregory and his three sons. She crouched on her knee to look at him closer, “They left already Trevor. They can’t hurt you again.” She stretched her arms wide. “Come here my little sun-bear.” He broke into a grating sob. He dashed at this mother, latching around her neck, heaving violent sobs and she held him there. Holding him close and rubbing a hand across his back, letting him bleed and cry onto her shoulder.
He watched from the great doorway as she rode off, waving to him as she disappeared into the dark forest.
-0-
Sypha had pulled a chair next to a window near the fireplace, cozied up under a small blanket with a pile of literature seated next to her on the floor, all featuring her new favorite author. Each volume was bound in bright dyed leather and reached nearly as high as her shin. She hummed a soft tune as she read. Alucard sat in the chair next to her on the other side of the window, picking through his own small collection of books.
“Trevor’s grandmother is a strange woman.” She mused.
“Is that so?”
“I’ve been pouring through these journals all morning, and she doesn’t speak much of anything about beasts, or spells, or even other parts of the library, that book I found earlier must have been one in a million.” She flipped another yellowed page. “She keeps mentioning another woman named Belinda and she likes talking about flowers.”
Alucard hummed, turning the page of his own book.
“ Day 117 -- Leandra is becoming impatient with me, again.” Sypha read aloud. “ I cannot help that it takes me much longer to get onto my horse than it does for her. I told her to tell me about the boy, I was unable to say goodbye to him this time. She said he was fighting with the nephews again. I don’t blame him, those boys act too much like their shitstain of a father. Not my side, not my issue, that’s Titus’ boy and Titus is a shitstain too. Leandra’s son is the quiet one, but angry as if hell had cast all their sins on him, just like his mother. Doesn’t like to pick fights, but strong little thing. Looks just like her too. I miss him.”
“So Leandra is Belinda’s daughter then?” Alucard yawned, standing up to get a good stretch in his legs and set his book on the arm of the chair.
“Yes, I suppose so.” She replied.
“Do you know what that means?” He grinned. The poor girl just shook her head. “I believe we might be reading a description of Trevor’s mother.”
Her eyes snapped back down onto the page, reading through another time. “Oh wow.” The dainty cursive that flowed on the page explained someone that may be the disgruntled hunter they all had come to know and love. She jumped up from the chair, shutting the book with a harsh snap. “We have to show Trevor!” with a definitive wave of the book in the air she dashed out of the room.
-0-
Trevor preferred to work alone when he was in the hold, it gave him time to be alone with his thoughts, and with his memories. He didn’t need to do much other than some light dusting here and there, removing the occasional piece of damaged wood would occasionally make the day more interesting. But he decided to just reminisce that afternoon, tread down the aisles like he used to, hands clasped behind his back perusing the titles and labels of the books and skeletons. He missed this place. Seeing his grandmother’s handwriting had really stirred something in him, a deep longing he had forgotten how to tap into. It was nice, navigating the polished shelves and just soaking in the atmosphere of the library. Mother had always loved it in here. He turned another corner rounding an aisle of alchemical recipes for various flora and fauna.
“Trevor!” Sypha was standing at the high entrance to the sanctuary, waving to him with another one of Nana Bell’s books in her hand, he could tell from even the ground floor, a purple that violent was that woman’s staple. The mage couldn’t contain her own excitement from whatever she wanted and leaning over the railing to yell at him looked like it wasn’t going to suit her needs, with a swift sound of the air being sliced she vaulted over the railing and gently floated down to the floor below. Trevor was there waiting for her, arms crossed and brows furrowed.
“Something wrong Sypha?” He raised an eyebrow.
She waved the small book in front of his face. “I was reading your grandmother’s journal and found this!” Sypha flipped it open and pointed to a short paragraph, scrawled neatly in Nana Bell’s handwriting, he could see his mother’s name.
“And you brought me this because…?” He closed the book for her and returned his hands to their previous position. Leaning against a nearby shelf, he began to examine his fingernails with intense and relentless fervor.
“Is that your mother Trevor?” She smiled, clearly pleased with her own discovery.
“Yes, and why is that so particularly fascinating?”
Alucard emerged from the entrance then, an air of unsettling grace flowing about him. “Because everything about your immediate family is a complete mystery Belmont, call us curious.” He lookup on the two, but meandered down the stairs as he let his eyes wander around the expanse of the library.
Trevor rolled his eyes, “She wasn’t even there for most of my life, I was barely raised by my father before the house burned.”
“That sounds like a story to tell.” Sypha chirped, clasping the book to her chest.
“What the hell are you talking about woman.” Trevor spat, squinting at her.
“Dinner then? Trevor gives the full details about this mysterious Leandra over roast pig?” Alucard sneered.
“I never said anything about that.”
“It’s settled then, dinner it is!” The mage giggled.