Sylvester didn't know what to do. His mind was blank, and there was nobody he could count on to deal with this situation. He knew that Hendrix likely knew he had elven blood, but not who's blood. It was impossible to check without the Holy Land's help.
He stared into the man's eyes, and the latter did the same. As if the two were talking through their eyes, they kept looking at each other.
"Bard, who else do you have in your family?" Hendrix asked.
Sylvester replied honestly. "Just a mother who birthed me alone in a remote village of Highland Kingdom. Sadly, the villagers tried to kill me, and the church adopted me. Just like what Grandpa Monk used to say—One who has nothing, the Church becomes their everything."
Pope at the side agreed with that statement in particular. "Rightly said, young bard. The old man used to say this often."
"What about your father?" Hendrix inquired.
