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[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

It was good to hear her call him honey. It was an endearing name that he had come to enjoy. “Fifteen years is more than enough Rhy.” He said assuring her that things would indeed turn out ok.

The business of being able to make her submit was a strange one. Although he found that many kelvics had the mentality of the animal form they had. So it made sense that she would see him as superior. He was older, larger, stronger and likely the scars that adorned his body were proof that he was indeed a fighter. Something that among dogs he would imagine granted him some level of respect and status. But he guessed it was his size that gave him the greatest advantage being that he stood well over Rhy.

She spoke of the darkness…of the camp. She called it by name that darkness was something he didn’t usually bring into conversation. Especially since leaving Mura; on Mura he felt safe slavers couldn’t touch him there. However here they could…he could be captured again. And even brought back to that same place again. It wasn’t something he just talked about. Not if he felt the individual was skiddish…or untrustworthy. No, there weren’t many who knew of the exact darkness he spoke of. Kavala knew, Gianne knew some, Elem had suspicions…he was sure Van knew some as well but knew not specifics. He kept this information close to him, but felt like Rhy would need to know if he was to be with Gianne. She could understand him better since he knew his actions were sometimes puzzling to her without context.

He swallowed hard and nodded. “I suppose it is time we have this conversation.” His mind didn’t have to go far to find the memories he spoke of…the events he knew of. There was still so much missing from his mind. So many things just fragmented across months…years…and all those clueless nights where he lost himself. Had his mind done this to him on purpose?

“It was a camp Rhy, a slavers camp as best I could tell. They captured travelers on the road and sold them into Ravok for the slave market or elsewhere for other reasons. They did things to me there I can’t remember; and I did things I can’t remember. But what I do remember…are hellish nightmares. Strung together memories that are faded. Sometimes I am fighting in a dirt arena against other slaves for the enjoyment of the spectators. Other times they are experimenting with poisons and antidotes on me. I wet by another name then…A number…” This was something he was sure none knew except maybe Kavala or Blythe…something he hadn’t disclosed to anyone for fear of being found out.

“Seven…I was number Seven.” The number burned as he spoke it and he was visually uncomfortable as he thought about all the times he had heard that name…Yelled at him…spoken as he was in a drug induced stupor in that herbalists tent.

“And now…now I am Serrif trying to wash that life away from me. But it is part of me. I wear the scars, and carry the memories.” He shook his head and almost felt sick as he continued.

“Seven is who I was there. But who I was before then…I can’t remember at all. I remember nothing before the camp, or for the first year. Nothing at all.” A truth he hated because he could have a life before the camp. Well he had to but he couldn’t remember it. The frustration was palpable.

“But I am making myself anew now. That is all that matters. And I would like you and Gianne to be part of it.”

[Rhy]

Rhy listens intently, unblinking. Much like a cat in stature and less like a dog. She had assumed slavery when she saw the scars. That would account for the chafing scars on his neck and wrists. But to hear that he remembers nothing from before that time? How old must he be... well into his second decade at least. Maybe even his third. And to Rhy, that is a infinite amount of time. A lifetime of memories. And just... forgotten? Just like that? She has no words of compassion for him, or any physical display of comfort. How could she? She has no idea what had happened, how it felt, and what he did. She has no right to intrude on his grief when all she has to offer is sympathy and pity. She cocks her head, thinking for a moment. "Thats a good name. Serrif. It fits you well. I hope thats who you stay for a little bit longer." For names, like people, she finds, are fluid and can change like the seasons. "But I also hope that someday you'll find out who did it. I hope you get to kill them." The words fall from her mouth like its the most normal thing in the world. And maybe it is. But murder does not fit well on Serrif. Like a lock without a key. She's seen him kill animals before, but she knows that killing your own kind is much different. It just does not fit. She would have no other way of explaining it. But Gianne does fit with him. And its time she dealt with that. "This life is pretty new for me too. You knew me back when I was a child thief living in Riverfall, didn't you? Well, knew of me, anyway", she muses. Thinking back to the fever that brought her half dead with exhaustion to the steps of Sanctuary seasons ago. "I'm an adult now, with a respectable job and responsibilities. Even a mismatched family, of sorts." She smiles to herself, it still awes her with how much has changed. She has no past that holds her hostage the way Serrifs does; she excepted her parents death long ago, and does not hold the Emerald clan responsible for anything that has happened. But the change is profound to her none the less. "I will share this new life with you if you will share yours. But you have to understand that I can do this on my own. You have this annoying habit of getting in the way. I know you are capable of taking care of her, at least physically. You've proven yourself in a million different ways. But I haven't had the chance yet to prove that to her. Or even to you." Or myself she almost says.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

Kelvics were refreshing; they granted a perspective that he rarely got from others. In the simplicity of their statements they sometimes held a much greater and deeper meaning than they intended. She wanted him to stay like this a little while longer, even though she attributed his current actions to a name…her statement had a profound deeper meaning behind it to him. He hadn’t thought about it that way before now. That he may not have been this way before the camp. That with that old name would come old habits, old assumptions; all things he had forgotten when he gave himself his new name.

Serrif…he had been made anew on the Konti Isle. Formed gently into the man he was now; bit by bit little by little he became the man he was now, the man before Rhy. The very same man that was a good fit for Gianne. “I intend to stay this man.” he assured both himself and Rhy…but more himself.

In his own way he hoped one day he got to meet again the man that did this to him; that man didn’t seem to deserve life because he spent all his time adversely torturing others. But would his Goddess allow him such action? Would she look on him unfavorably if he did so? Wasn’t his duty to heal others? And the only way to heal all those that would be effected by this man he would have to eliminate him. One did not simply turn from such ways easily…No, but would he be this diving intervention that the man needed so badly? Could he with an unwavering hand slay this man…He was unsure if he could. But knew he may one day have to face this fact.

“I hope I get to see him one day as well.” Yes murder and revenge did not fit him well. He had an unsteady hand about it because he only had partial facts. But what he did know seemed to condemn this man to death. But in a way he did not believe it was his place to do so.

“But it is possible that he perished in the storms.” That was more of an escaped thought than a statement meant for her. He shrugged some as if to brush it off but she knew that such an event would have significant effects on him; he needed to see his captor…know his fate and the fate of the others that were there…so many of them were innocent in this….

“I know you could do this on your own, neither you nor Gianne NEED me completely. She sees something different in each of us I would imagine. A companion in you someone she can share her deepest secrets with. You are bound to her completely. She knows without a doubt that you will never leave her but through death. However, I believe she would be slightly suspicious of me. Human men tend to be less dependable than Kelvics by far. But I don’t intend on ever leaving you two; or at least not without good reason to help protect you. I know ]that you nor Gianne need me, because you will always have each other.”

[Rhy]

The Kelvic nods firmly, as if they had just settled an agreement, or a contract. He understands. Something she selfishly thought was beyond him. But he understands her role in all this, and she is beginning to understand his. They both sit there for a chime as Rhy tries to think of something else to say. Something profound, preferably. Something that will make this all better, and for the love of the gods, something that will make this make sense. For while she is beginning to understand Serrif and his motivations, the understanding is still shallow. She has enough self-reflection to realize they are only scratching the surface. Rhy grinds the heels of her hands into her eyes and yawns widely again. The profound epiphany will have to wait. She is tired and has the sudden urge to be back in her own bed. With her anxiety slowly evaporating she is starting to forget why she couldn't sleep in the first place. Without a word she gets to her feet and stretches with her hands reaching to the gods, letting her back pop with a satisfying sound. And she takes a moment to rearrange her blanket back around her shoulders. And only once she is done with her little indulgent animal pleasure does she turn to look him back in the eye. "Then welcome to the family, Serrif Von Chatlyn", she purrs, and licks his forehead with her rough tongue as if its her own little initiation ritual. She doesn't mean the Sanctuary family, which was the one Serrif and everyone here allowed her into, but the smaller one composed of just Gianne and herself. "Fifteen years", she suddenly states, waving an accusing finger under his nose to emphasize that she has not giving up her role as protector, just adjusted it. "Fifteen years to prove that you can do this on your own, ok? Now I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning, Hun." And with that she turns on her heel and leaves. Sliding noiselessly back into her and Gianne's room, letting the door close with a soft click. And once back inside she takes a second to push her ear against the crack, listening for something she can't name. Once satisfied, she pushes the book under the bed, places the candle on the bed stand, and slides carefully into bed while still wearing her human skin. Everything will be fine, she decides right then. Wrapping her skinny arms around her bondmates waist and resting her forehead against her back. Everything is changing, but it will be fine. And she's pretty sure she just made an ally tonight.