60th Winter 511AV
There in his bed la his blood…his own daughter. Or a little girl who claimed she knew him. She called him Kavokin and her face looked familiar. She reminded him of someone else, his wife. Everything was a blur to him really. He sat by her bedside all night staring into the flickering light of a candle. His mind was trying to remember her…both of them. His wife and his daughter. Every now and then he would look over at her sleeping there and he would catch glimpses of his wife…
Her long brown hair flowing like warm chocolate over the pillows with her matching eyes trying to call him lovingly to bed. He swore he remembered his wife…but her memory was so faint in his mind. So completely distant that it frustrated him to no end. He raked his memories and shook his head as he couldn’t remember…He just couldn’t. He couldn’t even remember his daughter! He didn’t even know he had one. But he didn’t remember much at all. His entire life before the slave camp was completely blank to him. But he knew the way this girl looked at him, she couldn’t make that up.
No amount of practice could’ve prepared him for how very soul wrenching it was to hear that little girl call him Kavokin as she looked into his eyes. Something in him KNEW that she was his blood. His daughter…He knew it his body knew it. Even if his mind didn’t remember it or couldn’t admit it his body seemed to know. Even when he carried her body to bed and tucked her in something felt right about it. Something felt familiar to him. Like he had literally done this thousands of times before now. And the only conclusion that made sense was that he had done this before. She had to be his daughter…that meant his name was Kavokin.
Who was this Kavokin? What was he like and who above all was his wife? He had secured his daughter but now…what of his wife? Or did he even want to know? He knew the horrible things that the slavers did to women at the camp. And knowing that did he really want to know what had become of his wife? Did this little girl know? How much did she remember? How much could she recall about his past…his previous life? Did she even expect him to remember his former life? He was worried he would crush her spirits because he didn’t remember much of the relationship between him and his daughter…
These questions swirled around in his head forever until he silenced them as he watched his daughter sleep peacefully. He smiled and was actually happy for the first time in a very long time. He knew he was now responsible for another human beings life. He was responsible for her education, health, and well being. She had been through hell just like him. Her body showed it. She looked so frail, so tired. He had just tucked her in and gently combed through her hair with his bare hands. She fell asleep easily and well now he was lost…in the very truth that was staring him back in the face.
He had a life before this that was worth living. A wife that was worth loving and a child that he loved with everything he had. That was the only way he could still feel so strong for her even after all this time. She was a key to his past, the very past he thought he had moved past. But now…now he was sure there were elements of his past that were going to come back to him. And for once he was glad his daughter had. He felt ashamed though, he didn’t even know her name. He couldn’t remember his OWN daughters’ name. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to remember…
Meanwhile some of the Sanctuary staff had likely been woken by the activity in the night. A covered wagon had pulled up pulled by a team of horses. Then the entire raid team pulled everything apart and stored it in the tidal cave. The horses were put in stalls, the four from the raid and the others from the now dead bandits…even the covered wagon was stored and set aside out of the way. There was all kinds of equipment set in the wagon…elements proving that this wagon was indeed taken by force. Leather armor, some chainmail and weapons. Along with manacles, whips and the likes used for securing more unruly slaves. Serrif sent the rest of his group away they would divide up the riches tomorrow…and he wanted to give Kavala the opportunity to purchase the horses for herself first. They were in good condition but a little malnourished…like everything the slavers owned.
Serrif could be found sitting in his room the door cracked as he stared into the gentle candle fire…He was a little scuffed up from the raid. But in all it was more than worth it in the long run. He had risked only his life and gained far more than he could ever have expected. He was happy, but disturbed because he didn’t remember his past…he didn’t remember his daughter. What would he tell her when she woke? How could he tell her everything? What if she asked where he mother was? He didn’t think a simple answer of I don’t know would suffice to calm her any.
