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February 19, 2021


02/21/2021 08:53 PM 

Genesis Part I/, IV

Genesis ; Part I/IV
Diamondback /1684718
Featuring Lost & Found

2019 June
New Orleans, LA

He stood at the mantle. His right hand rested on the edge with his fingers curled around the edge. His world had crashed violently around him. Now it was time to pick up the pieces. Silas Verlac never felt more alone in all his life. His father Maurice had died and now Silas had to carry on without him.  

Lucas, his older brother couldn’t be bothered to even show up in Idris for the proper send off a Shadowhunter like their father had deserved. Their father had been a pillar of the community in New Orleans. He was a quiet man but respected highly by the mundanes with the sight. Many people spoke of how similar Silas was to his father. Now all Silas could feel was empty and hollow inside.

“The service is going to start soon.” The voice of Andre Dalton interrupted the thoughts of the young man in deep mourning for his father. “Si, you going to be okay?”

The younger male drank in a cleansing breath. He knew his father’s body was not here but in Idris. This was a public ceremony for those whom he left behind in New Orleans that couldn’t go to Idris. Silas looked up and nodded to Andre. “Let’s do this.”

The attendees seated were dressed in varying shades of black and navy blue. Several people whispered when they saw Silas enter. His suit was a pristine white. It was almost a fashion faux pas in their eyes. Some however could recall when Maurice himself had attended funerals. He’d also worn white. Many took it as a family tradition and overlooked it. They felt sorry for the young man who had no real family beside his late mother’s brother Andre. Silas took his seat in the first seat near the closed casket. He was the only one besides the funeral director and Andre who knew it was empty.

The officiant began to speak his official greeting and the traditional rhetoric when doing a memorial service. Silas wasn’t even listening. He was thinking back upon a life well lived. All the lessons learned and all the good memories actually made him smile gently through misty eyes.

Being a Shadowhunter was something that the Verlac Family had done for centuries. Silas’s own father told stories on how his own father Albert had traveled to Paris in order to help with Nazi Necromancers who set free demons to subjugate Paris during World War II. Silas even knew well stories of his great great grandfather who had been the first Verlac who has been chosen by The Clave to lead the NOLA Institute. There was a hefty legend to live up to in all honesty. He could understand why Lucas took off like he had. Silas couldn’t even fathom doing it himself. He took the call to be a Warrior too personally.

Then there was the Dalton Family. Andre and Juliette had been born half Fey. Juliette had fallen in love with Maurice and they’d been married in a beautiful ceremony. Lucas was born that first year. Silas came along four years later. Unfortunately Juliette had died in childbirth leaving a heartbroken Maurice to throw himself into his work and to raise a small boy and an infant son.

“Maurice’s son Silas would like to say a few words.” The officiant motioned to Silas who rose from his seat. He moved slowly to greet the officiant with a handshake.

Silas was standing in place when he began to speak. “Thank you all for coming. You honor my father a great deal by your attendance.” His gaze moved across the room. The men and women were full of concern offering affection toward the young man with a tragic history. His gaze fell upon someone that he’d never imagine seeing.  

Serena Herondale entered the room wearing a white dress that made Silas’s heart beat a little faster. The young Shadowhunter had been a friend to Silas for a few years now. He’d been a guest in New York when she received her first rune. She was very special to him. He only hoped that she looked at him in the same light. He swallowed hard and continued. Serena took a seat in the back after she made momentary eye contact with him. She was very concerned about him. He could tell. He also knew that she never liked to see anyone hurt or in pain. Her pure heart was part of what drew him to her.

Silas cleared his throat. “My father was a strong man. I always knew there was a profound sadness in him. Those of you around him had been the joy in his life toward the end. He had a deep love for learning and a driving passion to ensure that the weak and oppressed had a voice. He was their champion. He would never let anyone do without. He also counted it as a great joy when he could pass along his knowledge to others.” Silas remembered the day that his father presented Serena with a set of throwing knives that had belonged to Alexander Verlac Silas found it odd he’d given such a gift to the lost Herondale. Perhaps he’d seen how taken Silas had been with her. Who was Silas kidding? Of course he’d seen it.

Silas brought his remarks to a close. “Do your best in life. Help those who would not even ask for it. When you do that, the spirit of my father lives on through each of us left behind. Thank you.” He moved back toward his seat at the front of the room. He would receive those offering condolences soon.

Silas was ready for it to be over. He didn’t need to continue to be reminded how alone he was. Even though Serena was here to check on him, she’d eventually go back home.

What was to become of him?


“Vireseit vulnere virtus.”  Virtue grows in strength from wounds.
credit: james kriet


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