[Serion D'Rinishad]

Resting his hand on Graham's shoulder, Serion nods a thank you to the receptionist and follows the young woman, Amelia. He noticed the woman's distrustful stare, but mentally shrugged it off. It would seem that stares such as those were ones he needed to get used to--I wonder what I used to do about stares like that... he thought silently to himself.

Watching the door open, and the girl dismissed, Serion's eye raises a bit at the man standing before him, speaking of having previously met. If there wasn't enough to be confused about for the vysstichi, this certainly wasn't making things easier. Leading his young companion in with him, Serion's eyes turn to the man. About to ask where they had met, the swordsman found himself unable to voice his question as he watched the illusion fade away from the mystic.

"Magic." Serion says flatly, though Graham's eyes were wide with youthful amazement. Turning to the chairs that Duncan had offered, he motions for Graham to sit, knowing the child would probably be thankful of the plush room and free drink. Of course, Serion had caught the glint in Duncan's eye, and chose to stay standing.

In fact, Duncan had pretty much assessed the situation perfectly. Serion did not trust the man--an irony considering their past dealings--and Duncan could not simply trust someone he had thought to have been...devoured. The idea of such an event sent an almost imperceptible shudder up the dark elf's spine. Looking at the child and back to Duncan, eyes flat, Serion nods at the mans words.

"To be perfectly honest...I know very little...of anything. I woke up in a destroyed village not far from the city, Imperia. This child seemed to be the only survivor, and somehow the two of us managed to make do. It was quite ackward actually...I couldn't even talk...my thoughts seemed to be constantly about hunger...as though I were some sort of beast."

Serion's eyes seem distant as he recalls the events but a season ago.
"We traveled when the food of the village began to diminish...molded and rotten. We buried some of the dead bodies--Graham did at least. I never saw them since I could barely move myself for a time." Watching Graham drink from a cup, Serion looks back at the dark eyes of the mystic. "As we followed the streets we were occasionally attacked by bandits. Somehow I defeated them, as though I'd been doing it for ages, and in Imperia I found out that I was known for wielding swords--a warrior of sorts I guess."

Scratching his head, and running his fingers through his long white hair, Serion continues, "In fact, walking around Imperia seemed to make me feel comfortable, and the feeling of having been there before was slowly growing stronger--like a dream you can't recall exactly." Frowning a bit, Serion pauses. "If I try to force myself to remember something, though, it causes me sever headaches. It's almost like my memories are there, but too many to let flood in at once on my own. As they come back, I'm fine, but forcing them... At that Serion shakes his head, indicating the fact that such an action was something he had decided to refrain from.

"I am troubled at your words though...Duncan." The name came back to Serion from the mental conversation in the square. "You say I was devoured? I find that a bit unsettling. How could I have been eaten and still walk about now? If I was in the southern extremes of the world, why did I wake up near Imperia? I've seen the map before we traveled to Aelyria Prime...it doesn’t make any sense to me."