Token Gestures

The moon was full that night, tinged with a slight hint of blue that gave it an ethereal beauty. Sylas marvelled at it, feeling that it held a different sort of significance today. 

It was no longer just a rock in the skies, a piece of Earth stripped away and tied by gravity. Instead, it felt more like a stepping stone, or maybe even a distraction, obscuring what was beyond with its gorgeous light. 

Sylas felt someone sit by him. The stone bench had more than enough room, though it was odd that someone would be up so late at night. 

It was well past midnight. He usually liked to get to sleep on quite a strict schedule so that he could wake up early in the morning. People neglected sleep too often, when it was probably the most powerful super serum in existence. 

But since he couldn't sleep either, who was to say that others wouldn't feel the same? 

"Grandfather," Sylas said lightly. 

Magnus smiled. By now, he was used to his grandson's stiff form of address. He knew Sylas' heart better than almost anyone else, so he wouldn't be caught up by such trivial things. 

"What are you thinking about, Sylas?"

Sylas never took his eyes off of the moon. It wasn't that he couldn't answer, but that the answer would be too long, and ultimately wouldn't get to the gist of what his grandfather wanted to talk about. 

"You've known for a long time?" was what Sylas eventually said. 

Magnus sighed. It sounded aged and weary, and it was probably the first time his grandfather had truly exuded the presence of his age. 

"The fathers of Lucius, Malachi, and Astrid, they are my brothers. Compared to the other families brought here, it could be said that we are the closest to the main family in blood. Your father, he should have been the fourth among them. He, too, should have had the title of Grimblade."

"Grimblade?" Sylas asked. 

"Yes. This is the name of our Lineage. In order to better blend in with modern society, we changed our name to Brown. This is probably something that they will tell you in the coming days, but they already dumped enough on you."

Sylas nodded slowly. Truth be told, this was much easier to accept now. If his grandfather had told him a few days ago, he might have tried to check him into a hospital. 

"Grimblade…"

It was a rustic name, and the emotion it gave off could only be taken one of two ways. 

Either you would feel that it was the fantasy of a five-year-old boy, or it was overbearing and valiant. 

Sylas was neutral. 

"All those years ago… It was my fault. I had a child with your grandmother, a woman that my father did not approve of. I withstood a great amount of pressure and slaved for the family to make up for this mistake—" Magnus shook his head. "Ultimately, the result was me abandoning your father for ten years, and not being there when your grandmother died."

Sylas looked toward his grandfather's side profile. He had never seen Magnus cry before. Even now, the latter's words were steady and even, but the tears continued to stream down his face in an uncontrollable flow. 

"To cancer. Imagine that, my woman, the love of my life, died to such a vile, detestable thing when her man came from the most powerful family in this world… when in just a few decades, such a disease could be cured with just a wave of the hand."

Sylas knew that his grandfather must be referring to this coming… "Summoned Ascension," they called it. Their world didn't have a cure for cancer, but this world seemed to. 

Magnus shook his head again. 

"When I got word of your grandmother's death, I abandoned the family and my birthright. My father forbade me from bringing Cedric back to the family, so we could only forge out on our own."

"And you feel no resentment?" Sylas asked. 

"Ha…" Magnus laughed, his chuckle carrying a hint of darkness. "Who would I resent? That man has long since died and I didn't even attend his funeral. Even if I did hold some resentment, this family deserves a chance to survive. Why would I let my own pettiness get in the way when the culprit is gone?"

Sylas didn't respond, carefully listening to his grandfather's words. These matters had been on his chest for a long time, but no one would believe him. Even his own son didn't believe him. 

If Sylas looked at this from his father's perspective, it would seem like the Browns were obsessed with money and class to the point they carefully controlled the marriages of their descendants. 

But now that he had seen the Bronze Stele, it was a matter much deeper than that. This was truly a matter of life and death, with the fate of the entire human race on the line. 

Considering the name "Grimblade" and the fact his grandfather called it a "Lineage", it might also mean that bloodline was incredibly important as well, and his grandfather's actions may have compromised that. 

With that perspective, everything was much more reasonable. 

Sylas spent a lot of time with snakes. Carefully breeding them to select for beautiful patterns or more powerful venoms wasn't something only he dabbled in, but one that many other reptile enthusiasts and scientists alike took part in. 

If the matter of bloodline became so important in this new world as well, and on a much larger scale, he couldn't help but feel that the efforts their predecessors had gone through in eliminating race would all be for naught. 

But wasn't that the usual? The powerful making token gestures to the weak as they hoarded all the power for themselves?