[The Sanctuary] Origins (Serrif)

[Kavala]

As she watched the memory, traveling along the Chavi, Kavala saw it loop back at the point where the other dreamwalker changed Crescents memories. Had she not seen him do it where Crescent and Tizack's Chavi intertwined, she wouldn't have understood what she was seeing. But she had and did and looked thoughtfully at the potential of it all. She carried only one mark which allowed her to look. But she'd seen the double mark on Tizack's chest and knew he had more. Was this what it meant to be a dreamwalker... this alteration? This rewriting of someone's history? Kavala marveled at the difference, disturbed deeply by it but also understanding its significance.

Tizack had just unmade Crescent and remade her into something of his choosing. The power that bespoke of was astonishing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Crescent's Life ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As predicted, she walked through the front doors bold as a breeze the very next day before sunrise carrying a simple pack and wearing a confused expression on her face. She slipped into his chambers and sat down beside his bed watching him sleep. Crescent was still dressed in her black leathers, still armed, but her expression was neither blank nor enraged. It just seemed empty. She waited until he woke from his nights rest and was stirring before she spoke alerting him to her presence.

"Something happened to me, Tizack. I awoke someplace strange smelling like captivity, like I haven't bathed in a while. My wrists and ankles have bruising on them and everything seems muddled in my head, as if feeling confused like I do is an unfamiliar. emotion. I feel afraid of what happened, but even that seems strange, as if I was never afraid before or as if fear was somehow wrong. I don't know why I wasn't with you. I'm supposed to be with you guarding you, even here, as you sleep. Why wasn't I at my post? Why did I wake up in a strange room I've never seen before in the basement of a grain storage? What's wrong with me, Tizack?" She asked quietly, very confused.

"I can't remember everything either, just bits and pieces... meeting you.. farming... I think I might have struck my head. Everything is fuzzy. I can't even remember putting these leathers on and wearing them... or why I would wear them. And these knives... feel familiar in my hands, but I don't remember learning them. Something's wrong with me.... Tizack, why am I so afraid?" She asked, dragging her hand through her hair and staring at him. She looked vulnerable then, slightly scared, as if nothing made sense to her at that moment.

"I remember you... I remember you saving my life. But I don't understand any of the rest of it..." She said suddenly surging to her feet from the place she perched on the chair. Crescent tended to slide into the shadows on any piece of furniture she chose to sit on, and own them because she'd had years of training from the others to do so. Without letting him get up, she slipped onto the bed beside him and met his gaze. "Tell me whats going on? I don't understand, Tizack. This is my home, but it feels so unfamiliar." She said softly reaching out and wrapping her arms around him for comfort. Her actions were childlike - almost desperate - and she sought answers. "Have I been ill again?" She said, stretching for a reasoning needing his reassurance.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=Tizack’s Life=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The very visions he had put into Crescents mind had called back all kinds of emotions in him as well. He relived all of the sorrow he felt from losing his wife and child. He remained in the meditation room for a few more hours reflecting on his past. He had almost forgotten all about the loss of his wife and daughter. But there were some things you could just never forget no matter how bad you wanted to. These memories were indeed just that. But he felt they made him stronger as a person. And he honored their memories always. He eventually got back and fell asleep in his bed. Hoping that he had done good, that he had done what needed to be done rather than being selfish. He didn't take the time to get himself under the covers, what was the point anyway?

He fell asleep and dreamed of his wife and child. It tortured him but he eventually woke. And to his surprise there was someone else in the room sitting beside him. Who could it be? The voice sounded familiar, IT WAS CRESCENT his mind screamed to him as he began to compose himself. She hadn’t killed him yet; that was a sign that she maybe perhaps didn’t want to kill him. She spoke to him sweetly, but she was confused and lost. He listened intently to what she told him. It would help him gather together the effectiveness of what he had done to poor unsuspecting Crescent. She spoke of waking up in a different place, smelling horrid; it was true he hadn’t given her a bath the entire time she was here. He offered her the opportunity but she declined. He figured she wouldn’t do so again.

What he had done to her had worked. Her old memories had been overwritten with his new memories. And she had believed the memories as well. He had crafted them because he was familiar with these memories he had implanted in her mind. Although her being able to only remember bits and pieces didn’t surprise him. He had only just done this to her; the memories hadn’t had time to sit yet. They hadn’t had time to settle and become part of her. But with time her mind would fill in the rest for her. It would extrapolate and continue to fill in what was missing. And he would help it along if he needed to. He would help craft her past more and more and therefore improve her future and present.

She spoke of being afraid. He had never been on the other end of what he had just done to her. But he knew that it was only instinct to be afraid, scared, and confused. He had just erased everything she ever was and replaced it with something else of his construction. She looked so vulnerable staring at him right then, settling back into old habits as she inched back into the shadows. He could see it in her eyes nothing made sense in that moment to her. The world he had constructed and the world she had been a part of were conflicting. She was adjusting. She slipped ontop of the bed with him and met his eyes. He could still see her determination. He saw how utterly lost she was in all of this.

But he had been successful in his endeavors. Her arms wrapped around him for comfort and she spoke again questioning if she had been ill. He gently put an arm beneath her head and settled her head gently on his shoulder bringing her body closer to his. She could feel the warm heat from him contrasting to the rather cool room. It was familiar in her memories but foreign to her body to lay next to any man. He formed his next sentence very carefully.

“You came ill and I tried some medicine on you. You must have been dream walking and ended up there somehow.” He said reassuring her as his hand brushed back some of her hair. He smiled and spoke some more. “I was worried, but I knew you would find your way home again. You always do.” His voice soothed her just like she remembered it had all that time ago when he healed her back to health. When he snatched her from the jaws of death, it was all familiar yet foreign as well. But she belonged here now.

[Kavala]

Watching the events unfold, Kavala should have been angry. She should have hated that she witnessed first hand a man in her past rob her of her past and change her future intimately. But she wasn't angry. She wasn't even mad. Crescent needed help. The girl had been on a path that Kavala would have wanted no one to walk. No one. Tizack had done the right thing. But what came next? What was his subsequent move going to be? Trained assassin turned guard... would Crescent settle for a new life and leave her old ways behind? Kavala wasn't certain but she was curious. The Dreamwalker walked on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Crescent's Life ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Crescent nodded at Tizacks' words. "Must be... I still don't feel right. I can't even remember where my chambers are here, Sir." She said, pulling back from him and sliding off the bed to retake her seat. "I need a bath and fresh leathers... these are filthy and stink. Is there a place where my things are? I knew this place... your room, but nothing else. It's so strange that I cannot remember, there are only bits and pieces." She said, studying him intently from the chair. Blue eyes looked predatory even as the curtain of her dark hair fell forward across her face leaving her features in shadow. She moved, the leather she wore caressed the leather of the chair creating a distinctive sound. Clothing like she wore would be near impossible to find on short notice, nor would things to fill a room enough to make it look like she'd always lived there.

"Tizack... I know you. But I am not sure of you... our relationship. There are big gaps and things I can't remember. I know I trust you... I'm supposed to trust you... but beyond that I can't remember. Guard you to.. maybe? I think yes... am I your guard or servant? Will you explain?" She asked softly. Her eyes displayed her confusion once more clearly.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=Tizack’s Life=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tizach had several important decisions to make right now. He should’ve planned better. But he had taken decisive action to help her and his own. He had only two other followers here right now. And he knew that he needed to be with her, since at this moment he was the only familiar face to her…for now. He could take care of the rest himself. She brought up a good point to him and he knew that he had few options. He didn’t want it to be this way but he knew that he was again running out of options. Finding her clothing would be nearly impossible, well a new bodysuit and set of leathers would be impossible. Anything else was indeed plausible. But he first had to deal with her…

“Crescent…” His words were soft and understanding while he looked into her still confused eyes. He knew that she would come to eventually. He shifted himself and sat on the side of the bed looking at her.

“you are my beloved friend and bodyguard Crescent. You have been for some time now. Ever since I healed you of your illness.” His mind reached for reasoning to help quell her spirits. He needed some better reasons or he was afraid the memories may not stick as well as he wanted to. He HAD to keep her. And he had to fill in her memories himself.

“Come let’s get you cleaned up and put some clean clothing on you. I regret that was your last pair of leathers, however if you would like we could go get you a new set.” He said as he stood and offered her his hand to help her out of her chair.

He would then lead her into the meditation room, attached to it was a smaller bath house style room. There was a tub and sponges. There were also plenty of glass vials on a tabletop next to the bathtub. He touched each explaining their purposes. “This one is for your skin it smells wonderful and can cleanse the dirt off of you as well as all smell. This one is for your hair and scalp. And this final one you can add to your bathwater. It will help soothe you.” He looked deep into her eyes and smiled again.

“Please Crescent take your time, enjoy your bath.” He then picked up a large bucket of warm water and poured it into the bath. It only filled the tub about a fourth of the way but there were plenty of other buckets sitting on a large wooden heater.

Tizack then went back into the vanilla smelling room and talked quickly with his Akalak friend. He wrote down a list quickly on a piece of paper and handed it to him. The man nodded and then went quickly taking the other follower with him. He needed to stall Crescent, and quickly construct her world around her. The list he gave them was complete, but didn’t contain the items he knew that he would need to furnish a room completely. He knew that he reached and couldn’t find anything to explain why her room would be so barren. Why it would be lacking so many things. As she took a bath he remained outside the room in the meditation area. She would have to go through him to get to the exit.

He pulled her hair from his pocket and then gently started implanting feelings for him, admiration for what he did. She wanted to be more like him be with him and around him. Trust, he had brought her back from the brink of death and brought her to life again. But he then also started other memories. Tizack was also skilled in combat, the art of unarmed combat. He took all the skills she learned with the dagger and altered them to happen here in the meditation room, and to happen with him. They sparred hand versus blade. But where did her current blades come from? He gifted them to her one day. He knew of the spare room down the hall next to his. But he had her spending most of her time in his room with him.

She would spend all kinds of hours talking with him about medicine. Healing and such things. She wanted to learn about poison so that she could better defend him, and he taught her what he knew and more. She was his pupil and he was the almost untouchable teacher. Almost untouchable; she would remember one night how he danced with her in that room. She forgot the reason but she remembered how delicate and graceful she was compared to him. She remembered how he wasn’t nearly as graceful as she was but his arm around her waist….it just felt wonderful.

[Kavala]

Kavala watched on. She couldn't help but wonder how much of her now longed to be what Crescent had been in the past. So much of it made sense when trauma had struck her life and she'd turned to things of comfort - daggers, poisons, bola, blowguns - things that had been alien to her before. No, seemingly alien. Her soul remembered. Her soul understood. Inherently she'd been a weapon but nothing else. Now she was something else and she wondered too how much of it was because the man had reforged the weapon into something else.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Crescent's Life ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She trusted him and though it felt strange to for some reason. Crescent was relaxed around him and that in and of itself felt foreign. Relaxation was beyond... beyond... she glanced up confused. Something should have been there but was not. As she followed him to the bathing chamber and then after he departed exchanged leathers for skin, sh slowly sank into the bath and began the process of getting herself clean. Hands smoothed over flesh that had scars she had no knowledge of receiving. Even her shape seemed alien in some regards because she was lean and hard not soft and rounded like a farm girl should be. Her hair she carefully washed until it was a crinkling gleaming mass around her head, untamed. And as her hands stroked her body she found the raised mass of flesh behind her neck and probed its shape until she could detect no more what it was than the crescent moon shape in its center.

Frowning, she let it go. The rest of her showed signs of a hard life. Pain etched her pale flesh. Even has she glanced down and studied her hands, they gave her no more clues. Calluses lined the fingers, as if she used tools or weapons a great deal, and even as she had the thought her hand curled into a familiar shape she had no name for... as if something was missing from her hand that should have fit snugly in it.

The bath dirtied and she rose from it, draining the water once and refilled it again. Fastidious. She hadn't known that about herself. She began again, making sure the whole of her was clean before she finally rose and slipped on a robe. She picked up the clothing that was soiled in a towel and instinctively knew the leathers would take a tremendous amount of work to get clean. She'd ask Tizack for the supplies she'd need or at least where to find them. With a pale robe snugged about her body, her feet bare, and her hair loose for the first time in a long time, Crescent slipped from the bath to the mediation chamber.

Memories flooded her. Fighting with daggers and bare fists here in the chamber with Tizack. And once, even dancing with him. Talking long hours about medicine and the world and what it needed. She knew they talked of medicine, but strangely enough she had no knowledge of how to heal. No, that was because she was something else... a watch dog and a guard. She was his unseen shadow, a servant to the master, a student to a teacher. She woke when he did, ate what he ate, went to his meetings and rested when he relaxed. Only, when he meditated she did not meditate. She watched. She guarded. There were people in the world that wanted him dead and she didn't know why.

Coming back upon him, she settled down to his side and slightly behind him as befitted what she was. Speaking quietly, she whispered him out of his meditation, something she'd done before. "Tizack." She said softly, her body would have blended into the shadows of the room perfectly if it weren't for the stark white robe that swathed her and made her stand out from the dim corners. "Tizack." She said again, waiting for him to wake fully before she spoke yet again.

"I've been a prisoner. There are marks on my wrists and a scar on the back of my neck. There are cuts all over me I can not remember. I struck my head or something, didn't I? Because this doesn't feel real, only familiar. You don't even seem real. Will you tell me what happened? Will you tell me why I'm so hungry and why I have no spare clothing? I need something to clean my leathers with. I think they are not completely useless, only dirty. And can I have my knives back? You've taken them, haven't you?" She said softly, her voice lost. She moved closer then, to watch is expression as she asked her questions.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=Tizack’s Life=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As he remained there meditating he knew these questions would eventually come. The markings on her body didn’t match up with her actual past. Her body was scarred and indeed looked to have seen hardship much deeper than that of a farmgirl. Certain muscles were developed that a farmgirl would have no use for. She was toned, slender and fast. He even noticed her almost unmatched grace while she simply walked. The most obvious of marks was the one on the back of her neck. The one that he knew he could not explain away easily. He had been turning over in his head how to tell her what had happened. How to explain what she needed to know without telling her everything. Information was a very destructive thing if let lose all at once. He knew he would have to lie…maybe not lie just disclose carefully to her.

He could feel her coming as she entered the chamber. She walked over silently to him and knelt. Her steps were barely audible to him at all; the grace of an assassin. She whispered his name to bring him from the meditation. He slowly opened his eyes and listened to her concerns. He knew that he had explaining to do. And there would be more and more explaining as time moved on. She was right, she had been a prisoner. By him and by her own people. He couldn’t think who was better to her in the long run. He had treated her well, better than most would treat prisoners. He had given her the opportunity to bathe even if she didn’t. He had made sure she ate three times a day and ate good food. He had taken care of her personally but now he knew he would have to face what he had done; or in the very least come up with an explanation of what had happened to her.

Could he continue to lie to her? He didn’t know if he could lie to this helpless woman before him. If he could look into her eyes and lie outright to her. But he also knew he couldn’t tell her the whole truth for fear of retaliation. Because in erasing her and remaking her again he had proven that everything she had believed was indeed true. That people like him were indeed a threat. One that may or may not have to be eliminated. He was conflicted about this and she would see it in his eyes as he looked to her and spoke…carefully crafting his words.

“Crescent…you have indeed been a prisoner for longer than you can remember.” He said turning his body to face hers. She was a beautiful young woman; it was a shame that she would waste her life away as a trained killer. She could be so much more than that.

“My enemy the Ruv’na trained you to be an assassin Crescent. They trained you to kill me and all of those that were under me.” He remembered her past all the ‘torture training’ they did on her. “They stole you from me and I could not find you no matter how long I looked. They tortured you to make you into the perfect assassin. However I struck these memories from your mind so you could find peace. So you wouldn’t be conflicted between the woman you are and the woman they made you into. Crescent, all will be revealed to you in time.” He said standing as he then took her back to his office and room. He motioned to a couch and then moved to his desk.

He opened a drawer and picked out a small box. He toiled over in his mind how he was going to do this but he carried the box over to her. He sat on the couch beside her and opened the box. Inside where her two daggers, she knew them and had many memories with him associated to them. All the training in the meditation room, these were the daggers he gifted to her. He pulled her hand gently toward him and held it palm up placing a dagger in her hand then closed it around the hilt. “These should feel very familiar to you Crescent.” He said as he then showed her the daggers matching partner.

“These are a part of who you are Crescent. My trusted bodyguard.” He said as he watched her.

[Kavala]

The scene played out as Kavala dreamwalked down her own Chavi viewing her past and the truths that were her life. There was no way she could separate herself from Crescent, not after she'd seen the girl and understood how intimately that girls personality shaped her own. And in a silent contemplative way Kavala understood that she witnessed a fork in her own pathway where her past life was barreling down one road and suddenly was thrown violently off course by the intervention of someone who had no real need to intervene. He'd captured the girl and could have ended her life and went on with his from there. Crescent should have been nothing but an inconvenience to Tizack. Instead, he'd taken an interest and remolded the raw clay that was the girls life rather than simply discard it for a better mix.

In a way it stunned and humbled the healer. And it made her curious. She paused in her viewing of her own life and instead switched gears and started traveling the chavi of the man whom changed everything for her. Slipping upwards, she skimmed past all that he was as Tizack and moved forward avoiding for now knowing how the Cytali had died and instead moved onward to see if he now lived. He did. She moved past his rebirth and his childhood, going forwards along the thread of his recorded life until she hit a point where she felt it was the now. She dipped in and wove herself into the present where his chavi grew, just past what she would consider 'the now'. And she looked.

He was traveling and dressed as such. Gazing out over the rim of a ship she studied his face and knew him in that instant. Alive. Human. Young. Kavala did not know his name... he spoke to no one and was not polite enough to utter it allowed to the young Konti. She saw only the rolling sea and the wind catching his hair and his bright green eyes. Haunted eyes driven by something she couldn't name. Kavala was a healer and her observations were critical. She noted scars on his bare wrists and forearms. She noted the signs of suffering and the patient look of someone who'd walked through fire and came out alive on the other side. It was something she saw in her own silver every day.

Kavala memorized his features. If they ever met, she'd thank him even though he'd not understand why. Tizack had changed her life - Crescent's life - and that was something that could not go unacknowledged.

Sliding backwards, moving slowly to retrace her path, Kavala slid along his chavi and wove her way into the pattern one more where Tizack and Crescent's chavis intertwined. There was more to the story, one she longed to see to its completion.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Crescent's Life ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She followed him from the room and back into his office like a child would blindly follow a parent. His words had fallen heavily on her shoulders, and yet they comforted her as well since they made things fall into place that didn't before. Gaps in her memory? The way things seemed so strange yet vaguely familiar? She could only watch Tizack with her strange blue eyes and study him as no ordinary girl her age would have studied another person - as if they were a target or dangerous. She wasn't thinking he was dangerous though. She was just trying to understand him. Crescent said little after he lead her into his office, only taking the seat he indicated and then the dagger when he placed it in her hand.

Enemies handed over no weapons. Only friends armed people and then only people they trusted. Crescent swallowed, felt the warmth of his hand covering hers and lifted her head. She met his eyes and offered him a slight smile. "They are a comfort." She said, thanking him and reaching for the other one. They spun in her hands, weighted perfectly, and made her nod. "I remember when they gave them to me... and taught me to use them. I... I'm sorry for all that's happened, Tizack. There are gaps and I know it will take time, but I'll do my best to protect you... to make all the time you've put into my training worthwhile." She added, running a thumb along the blade to test its edge then gently sliding first one dagger into a side pocket of her robe and then added the other dagger to the opposite pocket. Her head dropped for a few moments, as if reassuring herself that they are secure, then looks up again.

Crescent lifted her head from depositing her treasures and met Tizack's gaze again. A curtain of damp wet hair slipped across her face partially hiding her features in shadow once more. She was completely unaware of how she looked, what she was, or who she could be. Lost at what to do next, the girl stared at the man watching him for direction, emotions he planted in her mind clearly visible in her eyes.

She loved him. She trusted him. She had nothing but warm memories of him and gratitude of his presence in her life.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=Tizack’s Life=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Yes Crescent it will take time for you to recover fully. Maybe you will remember things differently, and hopefully some things will never be remembered.” He gently reached out and touched her face looking deep into her eyes to try and quell her quest for who she was.

It had to be absolutely terrifying being on the receiving side of what he had just done. Having absolutely everything stripped from you. All your memories rewritten to function as someone else, but not as something else. You could call a duck a dog, teach it to bark and fetch…but no matter how hard you tried it would always be a duck. Always. He knew that this was a slightly different case, but he would have to keep a very close eye on her. But he also knew he could trust her now. He couldn’t see her attempting to kill him now. This became very obvious when he handed her back her daggers. If he hadn’t done his job correctly and navigated this with a sly tongue and well placed words he would die. She would slit his throat and there was nothing he could do about it. She would be able to kill him where he sat and she could leave unhindered. They were the only two here right now. Just them. He found his hand gently on her face caressing her gently trying to sooth her spirit. She had to be terrified but she was coming to. Accepting her place now and that was important.

“Yes Crescent, all you need is time. It will all come back eventually. Maybe you will remember….remember us.” He said as he smiled and gently kissed her forehead. Maybe her mind would conjure up something or reach for something. Maybe not but he wasn’t about to push her into being something she didn’t want to be. No, he wouldn’t turn her into a toy for his amusement.

“I remember how much you enjoyed those blades Crescent, they are a part of you. And that assassin they wanted you to be…she will be a part of you as well. Those black leathers will always be part of who you are. It is up to you to decide how much. Memory is a complicated thing Crescent. A volatile thing. But know this, if you ever need anything I am here for you. No matter when you need me, how you need me or why you need me. I will always be here for you.” He said as he smiled and nodded.

“You are welcome to stay here Crescent with me if you wish it. If you wish to rest my bed is open to you. I would like for you to stay close so I can watch you. I don’t want you to wonder off again.” He said as he motioned to the rather large and comfortable looking bed in the corner of the room.

What she did now was her choice, but he would indeed like to keep her under observation. He would like to keep her close to him. He wanted to craft her and help her realize what was going on, where she was now that she was here. Oh how the Ruv’na would have his head if they ever figured this out. It would be more than enough fuel for them to use to gain a firestorm of support. He would have to be very careful with Crescent. He couldn’t let them ever get her back, no she was far too valuable to waste now. He had seen this battle take a horrible turn for the worst. They Ruv’na were getting more vicious and more determined as well. He knew that this would only end with bloodshed. And neither side would go down without a fight. But there was hope; maybe on a larger scale he could remake all of the Ruv’na one by one. Little by little turning their own ranks against them. Maybe that would work. But that was almost as ethically gray as what he had done to Crescent. With one swoop he had killed her and replaced her with the woman before him…but she would always be an assassin…always.

[Kavala]

It was perhaps one of the most tender moments Kavala had ever witnessed. And as an ethereal creature walking the Chavi of her dreams, she paused and had she been a creature that breathed in that instant, she would have held the breath inside her. She knew the man had lied to her younger self and she knew that inherently what he'd done was wrong, but she understood it. It was then and there that the realization struck her about what it meant to be truly a Dreamwalker. She stretched her awareness outwards, directed her energy and her being at Nysel whom she knew inhabited this realm quite effectively, and threw her gratitude outwards as if in prayer to him. She hadn't understood in her studies that Dreamwalkers weren't just good nor just evil. She hadn't understood what it meant to be something of both to achieve whatever balance one wanted.

It was a comfort. It was a complete and utter comfort to see Tizack do something so horrible standing on its own and have it be for such benefit. Kavala should have judged him. All her life she'd tried to do the right thing. And then she'd experienced evil first hand, loss first hand, and powerlessness. And now she craved power, not for itself, but for how it could project. Sanctuary was a living representation of her cravings for stability and a home. Dreamwalking in a way was another entire avenue she now had to control more of her environment. And there were other things out there as well... like Rak'keli and her healing, Eyris and her wisdom. Kavala resolved to remember them all and soon, building a chapel in the basement of Sanctuary in their honor.

But for now, her mind turned back to Nysel.

Nysel was Nysel and he let his sphere of influence and his people roam as they must. He needed to because of who he was and what he was. Kavala now understood that. And in drifting down her Chavi, observing its contents, she wondered if her trip here wasn't predetermined.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Crescent's Life ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tizack's touch shook her. The gentle caress of his slightly roughened hands against her sleek cheek made her flinch for a moment. Crescent wasn't a creature used to being touched. Affection and such displays had never been something that had been a normal part of her life. Yet she liked it and craved his approval. Her subdued blue eyes met his, lacking the burning drive that shone from her when he held her in chains before. This was a tamer creature, one somehow brought lower by her lack of passion. It was something that was required because Tizack couldn't tame her with her will in place before. Now he could, slowly introducing things back into her life until that fire from before once more caused her gaze to blaze.

She did something surprising at his touch. Crescent flinched then tilted her head to stroke his fingertips with her cheek in a return sign of affection. It seemed to surprise her that she did it because she started to pull away and apologize. "I'm... sorry I..." Crescent said, then cut off the sentence, not sorry at all the longer she thought about it.

It was ironic even as Tizak withdrew his hand and let his thoughts wander to what she'd be if he'd made a mistake in his Dreamwalking and how much danger he'd be in from her - that Crescent was thinking how much she longed to kill for him instead. The thought came unbidden and was selfish, but she wanted to protect this man in front of her. And instead of telling him so, she just remained quiet and stoic trained to take information in stillness and silence, examining the world around her carefully as she did so.

He was a big man, taller than her but prone to muscle and not fat as so many scholars tended to be. And handsome in a stark intense way. He looked pinched, as if hunted, though she wasn't sure who would really want to kill him and why. The thought of someone trying it aroused her anger and she automatically scanned the room again, checking for weapons and vulnerabilities. Blind corners, shadows cast in daylight, obstacles that could trip someone in a fight in the darkness or obvious escape paths... all these she looked for and noted. It was well defensible - his room - but not perfect. She'd set about making it defensible at once. It was just hard. His quiet intensity was distracting. And his smell...

Being this close, she could smell the scent of him and drew it deep into her lungs. Clean male, spice, leather... herbs perhaps from other function. Crescent would know his smell even in the dark. There was a warmth in her also, from his presence that seemed to recall dancing and fighting with him and even loving him. The last seemed shaky, as if it was something unrealized or unrequited. She could not know that it was the result of a Dreamwalker planting tiny tidbits of emotion but hesitant to make anyone feel anything specific regardless of what he wanted.

Tizack was speaking again. Her eyes and thoughts snapped back into focus and she realized he was saying something to her, suggesting something, that she'd only now started to wonder about. Were they lovers? Could she guard him and still share his bed? Crescents eyes drifted to where Tizack took his rest but nothing looked remotely familiar other than in the same vague detached way things were before.

He continued speaking and leaned in to kiss her forehead. Trust. It was there in full measure. She leaned forward and let him take her weight for a moment as she felt his warm lips on the heart shaped expanse of her forehead. He invited her to stay with him and to even share his bed. Crescents eyes wandered over to his resting place again and she finally nodded.

"We are lovers then." She said, making the leap in her mind saving him the explaination. "It makes sense. I can't very easily protect you sleeping across your doorjam like a hound." She added, a tidbit of her personality shining through as a half smile lit her face up slightly. Crescent shifted, nodded, and slipped the daggers under the pillow on the near side of the bed, closest to the door, forcing Tizack to take the far side near the wall away from windows and doors if and when he chose to join her. As she slid off the robe and folded it over the foot of the bed, she nodded to him. "Thank you for letting me keep these things that are such a part of me... my daggers and leathers. They bring me comfort. I'm not sure why. Part of the training perhaps?" She yawned then, barely concealing her exhaustion which was accumulated by the bath and what he'd done to her mind earlier. Anxiety from weeks incarcerated and then her escape and subsequent return were catching up to her. Safe... warm... someone she trusted... Crescent said nothing more and simply went to bed, sliding her nude form into between the bedsheets and thick comforter.

"I'll watch over you...." She muttered, her eyelids already drifting closed even as she curled on her side, looking even younger than her seventeen years.

Acceptance. It was just that easy. Tizack had pulled off everything he'd meant to do with her and more. The morning would bring new challenges, additional questions, a still-growing teen's hunger, and additional opportunities for him to work with her more. There were questions he needed to ask about the organization she was from. There were explanations she'd need and would ask for as well he knew.

Until then, the night seemed safe enough. Regardless of how much time passed, eventually he would need to sleep, and eventually he would wake again. But it wouldn't be in the way he'd expect. Crescent pressed a hand over his mouth and slipped on top of him, her weight pinning him down. She leaned over him so close her lips brushed his left ear. Twin blades of steel gleamed in her free hand, the one not covering his mouth. Words whispered and filled his senses - just barely - for she used almost no breath to utter them. "Be still. Someone other than your people is in your house or will be soon. I heard footsteps on the roof. Don't move, Tizack. Feign sleep and I will take care of it." And like that she was gone, the blazing heat of her bare limbs sliding off his prone form and out from the death trap the bedcovers would be. He barely heard the whisper of his door open and then close. Silence roared its ugly head, filling the room with an unseen symphony of night sounds that abruptly ended. Stillness crested like a wave over the room until abruptly a struggle broke out in the hall. Fierce. Deadly. Intense.

It was quick, whatever it was, and he heard the gurgle of a man gasping for breath through deflated lungs, most likely pierced. Two breaths later he heard death as only a healer could understand it. Dira was escorting someone's soul from his home and leaving another to stand over the empty body.

If and when he went to investigate he'd find Crescent bent over a man who was laying face down on the runner in the hallway in a pool of blood. Her hand had his neck exposed and she was staring at the brand on the back of it. Gentle fingers probed the scaring that was so identical to her own. Instead of a Crescent moon though, an Eclipsed moon graced the center of the outward flung spiral. The girl uttered something softly once, then repeated it a little louder.

"I remember you. I know you. Somehow I do. Who were you? How dare you force my hand?" There were tears in her eyes even though she didn't understand why. The Ruv'na had sent Eclipse to retrieve his daughter finally, not knowing that she'd been turned and once that happened there was no going back.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=Tizack’s Life=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

When he touched her she shuttered. He knew this was because in her past none ever touched her in a loving way, not even in an approving way. All she knew was the feel of a heavy scolding hand on her. A heavy punishing hand that beat her for almost no reason; even though the reason given was to toughen her up. But even he knew that was a lie. He had seen it in her past. He also saw how she craved for his approval, she craved for his touch but at the same time her body seemed to cringe. She wasn’t used to affection, but that would change eventually. He would help her be more normal; more like the woman she could’ve been if she wasn’t the killing machine he had tried to erase.

But he knew no matter how tame she was part of her would always be a killer. Part of her would always belong to the Ruv’na, part of her would always want to slay him for what he was; for what he had done to poor Crescent. And there was nothing she could’ve done to prevent it either. But she came around and then gently stroked his fingertips with her soft cheek. He smiled and nodded; he had never done this before. But now he was admiring his work, it was astonishing honestly. He now knew he could have her do anything. But with that power came great responsibility.

He watched her as he walked across the room. He saw how she looked around and he knew what her mind was doing. She was assessing the situation. Developing the room in her mind and assessing every last piece of the room. She was a killer, an assassin. But the line between killer and bodyguard was one that he had blurred for her and gently put her in her place. He knew that her assassin skills would come in handy as a bodyguard and he would like no one else. She was skilled in what she did before he changed her.

Her will was strong and he knew that her skills were far above par. But she wasn’t the only one noticing an alluring smell. He had never seen a woman as beautiful as her, one that smelt so wonderful…It had to be what he had her use in the bath. She smelt like wonderful vanilla, and her hair even through wet was absolutely stunning. He breathed in the scent that still clung to him. She smelt heavily of wonderful scent mixtures that he had indeed concocted. Did he know what he was doing when he had her bathe in it? By the God’s she smelt wonderful. He couldn’t shake her smell from his nose everywhere he went her smell filled the air.

But what she said next…it shook him. Good thing he temporarily had his back to her. Lovers? Had he led her to believe this? He pushed the surprise from his face as he then turned around to face her as she justified the reasoning for spending her nights and time in his bed. And he agreed her, maybe for more than just one simple reason. But he saw how happy this possibility made her. And he hadn’t implanted that in her. She slipped her daggers under a pillow and he was still unsure as to if he would go through with this or not. Had he just taken a trained assassin and turned her into his plaything? He ran a hand through his short hair and breathed in as she dropped the white robe from her slender figure.

She was indeed just as beautiful as he thought she was, even with her scarring she was a sight to be seen. He fought off his primal instincts as he breathed even watching her slip herself into his bed. She was there, right there. But he noticed the smaller details as well. He was to take the place in the bed against the wall the safer spot away from the windows and doors. She was taking the outside of the bed as his trained bodyguard; putting herself first in danger before him as a good bodyguard would do. It was odd…but he did feel safer with her here. He remembered wrestling her daggers from her on her first assassination attempt. She was a force to be reckoned with. He slipped out of his shirt and walked over to his side of the bed and figured if he was going to keep her as a lover he could indulge her a little.

Slipping his bare self into the bed with her was an odd feeling. He hadn’t been with a woman in any bed since before his wife died all those years ago…and now Crescent. “I am glad they feel familiar to you Crescent, you will need them to be a proper bodyguard anyway.”

He couldn’t believe this. She was content as he had ever seen her. He stretched out and gently wrapped an arm around her bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. And her body to rest against his. She was cold, he could feel how warm he was in contrast to her. She spoke that she would watch over him. And he didn’t doubt that one bit. ”I know you will Crescent.”

But even as she closed her eyes he knew the day would bring more questions, but he had no idea as to the extent that this would encompass. He slept eventually because for some reason her intoxicating aroma put him at ease. The aroma was soothing to his tweaked senses. He drifted and brought her close again to him almost like a child hugged a teddy bear. But he would awake…but it wasn’t yet morning and he was pinned.

His mind first panicked as he came to. But he gathered himself as she whispered into his ear…another assassin? Would she really expect him to do nothing. He supposed he had no choice in the manner. If he got up he would alert whomever was on the roof to his presence and they would both be dead. But he knew her skills and he nodded indicating that he would let her do as she needed and he would stay here, even if he didn’t want to. His heart pounded with the darkness and silence. He had never been this anxious because he knew Crescent could end up dead. And so could he. None could save him except Crescent.

The fight broke out and Crescents violence of action was evident. The toil was quick and lethal just like he knew she was. He slipped on his pants and walked out of the room carrying his rather large baggy shirt with him. He knew the sound of someone gently being carried off to death. Crescent had killed for him, but as to whom he had no clue…and how could he? He entered the hallway and there Crescent was standing over the now empty body of her enemy.

He walked over and threw his shirt over her nude form. She was covered in blood but his shirt was black, and the blood would wash out. Her violence had awoken his Akalak follower who came speeding to the scene carrying a crossbow and sword at his hip. The man looked stunned to see Tizack holding Crescent nude and dripping in blood standing over the body of yet another assassin who had tried for his life. Serrif motioned and the Akalak stopped astonished. How had he not heard the man coming? Before now he had been in charge of Tizack’s safety. But it was obvious now she was far more up to par. Whatever Tizack had done stuck to the girl. Because she had killed one of her own. But the Akalak would say nothing and would instead just nod.

Tizack laid his hands gently on her shoulders and whispered into her left ear gently. “Come Crescent, let’s get you cleaned up. You are injured. Don’t worry about him we will bury him.” He said as he gently took the daggers from her hand and put her hand in his.

He motioned and the Akalak nodded again; the two of them had been through thick and thin together they read each others minds quite well. Tizack led Crescent off into the meditation room again. He gently stroked the side of her face and spoke to her. “Are you ok Crescent? You seemed to know that man.” He spoke as he already knew she had just killed her father. But this was more of a test, her body knew who he was but her mind couldn’t place the memory. It was like she was sad for no reason. But he knew the reason.