@lasraichean -- ;
After living in Japan with the remnants of their family and one of their oldest friends, the idea of returning to Eastern Europe had caused bile to rise in their throat. After the end of Dracula's tyranny, they couldn't stand to be here any longer. Revenge had burned so brightly, only to be harshly extinguished when Sypha had been turned into a vampire and forced into a slumber for centuries. The moment they'd awoken and realized what had occurred, that was it. They had left this region of Europe for good, wanting nothing more to do with this mausoleum.
And yet, when reports had surfaced of the ruins of their old monastery appearing outside of this Pinegrave, Sypha knew they had to return. It was where they'd trained with their monastic brothers, where they'd been raised after their family had all but been burned at the stake as witches. Feeble rays of sunlight cut through the dense canopy of firs and pines, blearily illuminated well-worn trail that meandered through the dense woodland. Twigs snapped underfoot and pebbles skittered as they strode along, hands stuffed in the pockets of the letterman jacket Sypha wore.
A little obliviously, perhaps, but urgent with the need to find their destination.