The Day That Rell Awoke

I was another person. That is the best way to describe it.

The main problem I have now, is how in the hell do I explain this to the rest of CrIsis?

Apparently I never was a sex slave. I remember the entire period happening…and yet I remember also being a menial servant. A slave still, but much different than what I have carried with me my entire ‘life’.

My father. I remember him. He was never one to actually set me free, but he kept me in his house to be another of his ‘pretty’ things. I don’t know if I hate the father I never knew or the father that I did know more.

So many emotions to sort through. So many lies.

We had a discussion for a few hours about trust and how we needed to share ourselves, our stories, with the other members of the group, and to realize only now that it was all a lie.

I remember the lash across my back, but that is the last clear memory I have. From when I knew I was myself. Reaching up I can feel the welt of the scar, and wonder how I could ever have overlooked it. How anyone else could. I think part of the reason I never stripped off my shirt was to hide it even from myself.

Even now, I marvel at the turns my life has taken. The direction that my goddess was guiding me toward.

Old Crazy Inara was right after all. She spouted her ‘prophecies’ at me every time I saw her until that day that the lash fell. That day when I was ‘born anew’. That wasn’t the only prophecy that she gave me, and even now I wonder if I should share them with the group.

One even now chills me to the bone, knowing it’s implication: The child walking in fog shall join the gods’ army only after a wanderer from the world torn asunder is taken by the water serpent.

I know not what world she refers to, but I think she can only be referring to Bexx.

She told me about the Son of the Titans walking the world, and so many other things. The problem is that I don’t remember the exact wording, and a mis-worded prophecy is worse than no prophecy at all.

I wish I could trust any of the members of this group enough to tell them what has now happened to me. My goddess decrees that I trust them, but now I even question that. Is my faith my own, or is it a product of this other person that lived in my body for almost twenty years.

I feel sorry for the woman who died getting me away from Lopan. I know now that she was only following my father’s orders to get me to safety. Thinking on this, as the memory is now finally clear to me, I realize that my father truly loved me in his own way. A servant chose to punish me by the whip, and father realized he wouldn’t be able to protect me as long as I were a slave. It was an attempt to save me that he sent me away, but one that was already too late. I was dead, and would remain so for nineteen years.

The faeries of course knew the truth about me. and did their best to prepare me for the life I would need to live. They were guided by Apis in their dealings with me.

I wonder how many others with whom I dealt were prepared beforehand by the goddess to receive me. How much of my work was skill, and how much of it was simply the goddess making it so that I survived in spite of the odds.

I know that this is so disjointed, and looking back at some of the other entries I have made, I notice that this is new to me. I miss being so clear of purpose, but the Kappa’s trident stole that from me today. It pierced me through and joined the middle of the scar on my back. All three tines fell on that same scar.

Inara, where are you now that I truly need you? You could explain some of this to me I am sure. Explain what Apis hoped that I would learn from this experience.

How do I act with compassion when I feel that this emotion has been stolen from me?

My mind is no longer fogged, but even so I can’t see clearly the road ahead.

As I sit here with quill in hand, staring at the words that I’ve written, I get the impression that there is at least one person in our crew who will understand my plight, and might be able to give me clarity again. Our priest is charged with our souls, and I think charging him with mine might well lead to a way for me to resolve who I was with whom I have become.

Then I began to laugh.

Here I am jumping at shadows when I really need to be trusting these people the more. We are on a holy quest to rebuild the god Osiris and yet I find myself unable to meet their eyes. These are my friends, my companions, and through no fault of my own I have lied to them about my entire past.

About my motivations now.

How do I fix this without beginning to tell them all what has happened? How do I make them understand that I never meant to lie to them in the first place?

My heart pounds within my chest at the very thought of bringing up the subject, but I know that I have to broach it or I will never be able to live with myself. I consider for a moment heading up on deck and throwing this bracelet as far into the ocean as I am able, but some how I know that I won’t do that. It represents my past, and by continuing to wear it, it reminds me that while I have my past with me, always, it isn’t a part of me. A useful tool, yes, but not a limb.

I calm myself with a couple of deep breaths and wonder whether or not writing my thoughts first, before confronting Greldarr wouldn’t help me to better articulate them.

At the end of the day, I am a Human, and he is a Wolfen. We see the world in two completely different ways. Can I use this to my advantage? Will he accept me where I myself would throw me to the wolves, pun unintended?