Serri murmurs louder, appreciating the good petting he's getting. This woman - no, goddess definitely has a way with animals. Especially wolves.
"I'm not sure how he found me, but I know how I found him."
He pauses for a moment; the story is long and complicated. And thus in need of considerable truncation.
"Well, what I know is that one night I felt empty - beyond empty - and I left the castle I lived in. I had to get out; I had to. I couldn't stay inside any more. And I stayed outside, in the forests surrounding my home.
"Out there I ran into someone who I knew meant me nothing but trouble. Ceinn. He and his friends used the Cheysuli gift of coercion on me, and they made me think I had a lir and that my lir was dead."
He shudders; the memories are fresh and painful.
"Well, when a warrior's lir dies before he does, he becomes an empty, soulless shell of a man, and as life as such a man is unthinkable, he instead performs the death ritual by going out amongst the beasts unarmed to meet his fate.
That's what Ceinn did to me."
Serri stops murmuring, but he remains to be scratched, ready to offer his input if needed.
"But it was then that Serri had found me. He found me and he helped to break Ceinn's spell on me. I owe him much; I'd be dead if Ceinn had succeeded."
Again a pause. And a drink from the now-cold cup of honey brew. He's a bit thirsty from talking as much as he has.
"In some ways, that's how a warrior finds his lir. He suddenly feels himself empty yet full of a great need to go outside, to find that which will make him whole; body, mind and spirit. And he stays out there until he finds his lir.
Lir-sickness they call it. When a man becomes so consumed with emptiness he has no choice but to go out in the forest and find his lir."
no subject
"I'm not sure how he found me, but I know how I found him."
He pauses for a moment; the story is long and complicated. And thus in need of considerable truncation.
"Well, what I know is that one night I felt empty - beyond empty - and I left the castle I lived in. I had to get out; I had to. I couldn't stay inside any more. And I stayed outside, in the forests surrounding my home.
"Out there I ran into someone who I knew meant me nothing but trouble. Ceinn. He and his friends used the Cheysuli gift of coercion on me, and they made me think I had a lir and that my lir was dead."
He shudders; the memories are fresh and painful.
"Well, when a warrior's lir dies before he does, he becomes an empty, soulless shell of a man, and as life as such a man is unthinkable, he instead performs the death ritual by going out amongst the beasts unarmed to meet his fate.
That's what Ceinn did to me."
Serri stops murmuring, but he remains to be scratched, ready to offer his input if needed.
"But it was then that Serri had found me. He found me and he helped to break Ceinn's spell on me. I owe him much; I'd be dead if Ceinn had succeeded."
Again a pause. And a drink from the now-cold cup of honey brew. He's a bit thirsty from talking as much as he has.
"In some ways, that's how a warrior finds his lir. He suddenly feels himself empty yet full of a great need to go outside, to find that which will make him whole; body, mind and spirit. And he stays out there until he finds his lir.
Lir-sickness they call it. When a man becomes so consumed with emptiness he has no choice but to go out in the forest and find his lir."