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Sypha never had a place to call her home, at least one where everything and everyone was. A home seemed like a luxury to those who at least had all of their family together. Though she had vague memories of her parents, the accounts her grandfather had passed on to her were tales of people who loved her with every fiber of her being.
Nevertheless, there was always a want that kept Sypha driving on. It tore at Sypha’s heart when she and her fellow Speakers traveled from village to village. There was always a home that others went back to. There was always someone waiting for them after the work was done. Someone, or multiple others, to share a life with. A meal. Perhaps even their own future.
Yes, she loved her family and her people, but where was her home? Who would she return to once her journeys were over? She remembers telling Trevor that she always felt that they were wondering, never setting their feet down anywhere. Perhaps that was her greatest fear, more so than death by night creatures.
That she would not have the solid roots to settle down in. It would be the same routine wherever she went, wandering aimlessly from every village and city without knowing what better life awaited for her in the end.
Though she had never known her parents well, Sypha never thought she would become one herself. Her work, the lives they saved or tried to save across Wallachia, was no life fit for a child. That all changed when she met Trevor, the ever insufferable and rude drunkard who was the catalyst for her life in a few month’s time.
Rude and brutish, he carried on with what he had to do but neither factored each other coming into the latter’s life. Nor did they account for the dhamphir’s presence as well. Wasn’t that how the best love stories and friendships started? It happened right when you weren’t looking for it. And having the love of those close to you would make anyone feel like they won at something in life.