Sins of the Scale and Flesh
An RP by NekoLen and Tachigami

NOTE:
Opinions and views expressed in this RolePlay are purely for fictional purposes and serve no relation to the writer(s) opinions.

Serif laid, stretched out, on a series of flat, smooth stones just outside his home. It was a warm morning and his scaly tail coiled around him gently. He was a green, brown, and black naga, able to hide himself in nature. His light and dark brown base was streaked and speckled with varying degrees of green and tan, and black lowlights. His somewhat rough skin above his waist was a generally deep tan tone, his face sharp and his ears long and pointed. His snake eyes were bright green, and allowed him to see with an extra bit of assistance, especially in the dark. Serif rolled over, onto his back, sending his long nails through his black hair and lying it gently over the stone under his head. The sun energized him after a long night tucked away in the back of his caves, and when he turned his head, Serif could see the valley below him.

He lived in one of several mountains. It looked down at a small village beside a huge forest, and immediately he could see a tall church overlooking a lake, which was both fed and drained by two rivers. The humans there rarely came up, and it was only to request rain or shade on an especially hot, dry track of weather. They seemed to fear him, and his mastery of the weather, but he didn't know why. He would never harm them.

Stretching slightly, Serif sighed and turned over again, but didn't hear something at his side until it was too late. A form shifted, then lurched, and he reacted with a sharp twitch that was a bit too late. A chain was snatched around his neck and pulled tight, forcing him to flail backward in shock. A voice: "Stand steady, bring it down! Get the damned demon under control!" Serif barely understood the origin of the words, or the words themselves, until he spun around and came face to face with the middle-aged priest and several farmers from the village. They tightened the chain around his neck and brought him down to their level, yelling in a rage that kept them strong. But there was something wrong. He couldn't break free. These humans were weak compared to him, but the chain sent shivers down his spine, weakened his arms and shoulders, and brought his tail twisting over itself in knots. He fell, and the chain was latched around his neck and locked.

"Now. You aren't so strong, are you?" The priest stepped around and put a hand on Serif's chest. "Weak. No demon can handle warm, pure binding magic. Get up, you scaly horror." He kicked Serif's side, and the feeling---normally it would have barely acknowledged a notice---hurt him dreadfully. He rolled over, hissing all the way, and tried to snap at the priest with his venomous fangs. But one of the hunters snatched him back, and began pulling him. Serif could barely make himself get upright, though he had enough chain that would have allowed him to raise to full height. Because of that, he dragged himself by his arms and hands, panting as his energy lowered a little at a time. Where were they taking him...?

"Where are you going, father?" Isiah asked the man, who was wearing a trench coat and putting on hiking boots. It was unlike anyone to leave the town, especially the high priest. The man sighed and looked over to his son, his pale blue eyes that hid behind a pair of spectacles regarded him. His son was thin and pale, with long blonde hair that he kept tied back and deep blue eyes that always seemed to have a curious look to them. Even though Isiah was 18, he would never let his son leave his side until he became the man he wanted him to become.

"I am going out. You are not to leave the house, you hear me?" the priest finished doing up the laces of his boots and stood up, going towards the door. "Only to go to the chapel to pray." He opened the door to a small group of farmers and hunters, who seemed to be waiting for him. "I want you to pray for at least two hours today. Only God can save you from your illnesses." He left without another word, locking the door behind him. Isiah sighed and limped back to his room, going to the small window and sitting down to look out at the world around him.

His room was only small and very plain. His father didn't allow any decoration other than the rosary and cross on his wall. A vase of beautiful flowers sat on his bedside table. Isiah had picked them from the church's gardens for something to brighten his white room and make him smile when he was feeling down. He loved the scent, which he could smell from where he sat, looking out the window towards the lake and chapel.

The town he was forbidden to go to, the lake he never swam in... His pale hand tightened around the walking stick he used to help him get around. What would life be if he hadn't been born the priest's son? If he wasn't riddled with sickness and could live a normal life like the other boys in the town? He turned his head, turning his gaze to the small graveyard that was near the church. He watched the gravekeeper, Zachary, weed the gardens and tend to the tombstones. A handsome man with brown hair and a kind face, Isiah was smitten by him ever since the day they had met. Even though Zachary was at least 20 years older than him, he often found himself daydreaming about marrying the man and living with him somewhere away from the church.

And it was these thoughts that caused his father to hate him, to believe he was a sinner. Young men were supposed to love women, not men. Isiah had tried to stop these feelings, but nothing seemed to work. So he was hidden in the church, his father too ashamed to let him be seen by anyone else. He was forced to pray and to fast, even though he didn't believe that a God existed. But he dared not utter that around his God fearing father.

Zachary must have felt like someone was watching him, because he stopped what he was doing and turned around, grinning when he saw Isiah watching from the window and waving at him. Isiah blushed slightly and waved back, quickly leaving the window to lie on his bed. He picked up the only book he was allowed to read, the Bible, and buried himself in it, not even taking in the words. In his mind, Zachary would steal him away in the middle of the night and take him to some secluded cabin in the woods. Once there they would make love and Zachary would propose... He sighed, closing his eyes and imagining their wedding.

Serif thrashed from time to time, but was prodded with a sharpened piece of iron when he tried to force himself away from his captors. He was forced to keep following them and if he deviated from the direction even slightly he was yanked back until he was back on the right pathway. The priest kept looking back, sometimes walking backward to keep an eye on the naga. He laughed sometimes at the way the creature's muscled arms shivered under him, so weak, barely able to pull him on. They passed the village, and he could see people staring at him, watching him, backed away and ran to their homes. He glared their way. The humans, disgusting little things, didn't even care that he'd been caught in some blessed---or cursed---trap and being led to a possible doom. They didn't care that he'd helped them with dry spells, covered the ruthless sun when it grew too hot. They didn't care.

He was led past the church and he looked up at it. Where they worshiped their God. What did their God say about capturing an innocent being and possibly killing it with no previous provocation? He coughed when the chain was pulled tightly, and he was forced to look up. A huge barn met Serif's eyes, and he opened his mouth slightly. No sound came out, except a faint hiss. The double doors were opened and he was pulled inside.

A huge metal pole sat against the back wall, driven deep into the ground. Above it, a hatch that let in sunlight at certain points. The farmers ran the chain around the pole and locked it in place, allowing him to have a little space to move. He couldn't make it to the doors, however. The chain was left on him and the farmers backed away, leaving the priest alone as they left the barn. Serif rose up a bit, glaring at the man.

Isiah heard a commotion coming from the courtyard of the church. He went to the front of the small house to look out of one of the windows, but couldn't see anything. The house was built right next to the church, near the little walkway that went across the lake's surface and towards the chapel. Every high priest had lived here in the history of the town, Isiah's father and his father's father and so on. Isiah was to be the next priest, but he didn't want to be like his father. And his father refused to train him until his 'sinful' ways had been eradicated.

He left the house and wandered, going towards the chapel which was built over the lake. At night, thousands of candles were lit and floated on the mirror-like surface of the lake. It was a pretty sight, even though he despised the chapel and church and everything it symbolised to him - his ongoing suffering.

As he walked the small wooden board walk, he saw a group of men walking away from the large barn that was just beyond the church grounds. They kept their life stock in there during the winter months and made hay and silage during the summer. He noticed the men as the group that had gone out with his father not so long ago and curiosity struck him. Even though he knew he'd get in trouble if his father caught him spying, he crept over to the barn and found a window he could look through.

The scene he saw made him gasp, and cover up his mouth so no more noises would come out. His father stood before a monstrous creature, which appeared to be half man, half snake. No, there was no way it was a monster. He seemed so weak, and in pain, and he glared at his father like a creature that had just been taken from its habitat.

"Demon, you know who I am? I am Joseph Lightwell, the prophet of God. I speak with the words God has sent to me when I say this; you are an unholy abomination that has crawled out from the darkest, disgusting depths of Hell, sent to lead my flock astray. I heard you demanding to be idolised as a God, to have my flock come to you and worship you like a God. I will have no more of it!" the priest was mad, almost frothing at the mouth. He took several breaths and glared down the naga, who seemed to be trying to kill him with a look alone. "You are to reside here and obey the word of God. You work for Him now, and if you don't conform, Demon, I'll send you back to the muck hole you call home."

With that, his father left the barn, storming towards the house. Isiah hid behind a bush until the man had disappeared. What was this creature? Was it really a demon? Isiah didn't want to believe in such things. He had to talk to it, to find out why his father had accused it of trying to harm the town. He glanced towards the house, knowing that his father would assume he was in the chapel praying. Biting his lip, he climbed through the window with difficulty, slowly approaching the creature, who looked as though it was about to cry.

"Um... Hi..." he said quietly, keeping out of reach in case it attacked him.

The naga had two hearts, and both were beating so rapidly he felt the one in his chest was about to burst from his ribs. He wanted to say something, anything, to defend himself but he simply couldn't do so. He didn't know what to say---he wasn't a god, he was a being, simply that, somewhat animal and somewhat human, and he'd lived entirely removed from the village for the most part. He only came into contact with young farmers that were brave enough to approach and ask for a little rain. And he would send it, because the worry in the farmers' voices for their families and lifestyles made Serif feel for them. He wasn't a demon---he had no idea what the psychotic priest was even talking about.

When he turned, Serif reached toward him weakly, as if trying to grab him and throttle him, perhaps to shake some sense into his hard head. But he dropped his hand and wailed instead, bowing his head as the rage fell away and something like melancholy filled him. What did they want...? Were they going to do ridiculous rituals on him? He didn't want to endure that---he wanted to go back to his collections, his home, and hide away. He breathed in shakily and startled at a new voice, staring around for the origin.

A young man---how young? He barely looked to be a teen---stood near the window that he couldn't reach. Young and blonde like the sun, beautiful, almost unnatural. He blinked. "Sss... What do you want?" He demanded, slithering back and against the pole that was holding his chains. "I smell that crazy man all over you---you must be his offspring." And he looked so thin, so pale and weak. What did the man do to this boy?

"I'm not here to hurt you, I am... Well.. Curious. I've never seen anything like you before and... Well..." he stopped talking, watching the creature's tail coil about on the ground. It seemed that the chains holding him were causing him some sort of pain and it made Isiah feel sick, and a little bit mad. The poor thing seemed so confused. He was glad it could talk. He glanced out the window, relieved that his father wasn't going to find him in the chapel.

"He's... My father, yes. But I'm not like him. I... I can try to help you," Isiah didn't like to make promises he couldn't keep, but something about the desperate need this creature was in made him feel bad. It was like him, trapped in a place that only hurt him. "I just have to find out how to get those chains off.... If you'll let me..." Isiah moved slowly towards the creature, his legs shaking slightly. He had forgotten his cane, so his lopsided gait was noticeable. He would be too weak to run away if the creature decided to attack him.

"My name is Isiah. Do you have a name?" he asked kindly, bending slightly to touch the chain which was attached to a pole. It burned him when he tried to touch it, making him stagger backwards. "Ouch... What is the deal with this chain? It must be bewitched in some way." He had heard about magic, but didn't think it existed.

Serif wanted to sweep the human away, get him out of the barn, make him leave so he could be alone, but didn't feel he could do that. The young man seemed to be lacking in self confidence, perhaps because he had a father so like the man that had captured him on such a serene, lovely morning. He didn't seem like the man---he had clear, sane eyes, and so beautifully blue as well. They were two tones, a little darker around the pupil, but very light the rest of the way. He flinched away when the human came by---his name Isiah, of course, he had to remember that. He hoped the young man could get it off him, but when he staggered back and Serif felt a shock run through him, he gasped. "Ack!" He shuddered hard, shaking his head. "Oh... Oh... I don't know what he's done to me..." Serif gasped, lowering himself down to Isiah's height.

"I... am Serif." He said at last. "I am... a simple naga. I control weather, but I have never pegged myself a god. I would never do such a terrible thing. I give your village rain when it asks, this is all. And I am thanked by being tagged and dragged away from my home..." He uncoiled his tail, sliding the tip over Isiah's chin. "What makes you so different? Why are you here on your own free will? The rest fear me. They would never come near me unless they know I will not harm them. What do you think is stopping me from harming you?" He was so easily broken. A single slap from Serif would no doubt break the human in half. It would be harder now, since he was so weak, but this human was thin. "Do you not eat? Have you never seen the sunlight before today?" He couldn't consider how someone simply didn't eat or see the sun.

Isiah shuddered when the naga's tail stroked his chin, stepping back slightly. He hoped the creature wouldn't hurt him, wouldn't kill him. He had guessed that, because it seemed intelligent, it wouldn't attack him. He was just a sickly boy, who wanted someone to talk to. Perhaps he had been too quick to come within reach of the creature. He stared, entranced by how seamlessly the skin from the torso changed into scales of a snake. A naga. He had never heard of such a creature.

"I just wanted to help you, Serif," he said finally, backing away until he was again out of reach of the creature. He tried hard not to stare, but it was impossible. The man part of the naga was incredibly built and his exposed chest made Isiah feel weak. "I guess I hoped it was in your nature not to hurt me... You seem intelligent enough to know that if you were to kill me, my father would have you killed instantly. Perhaps he'd burn you... I've seen him burn a man alive before..." He shuddered, glancing back out the window. "I just... You obviously don't belong here and I want you to be free..."

"I guess because... Well... I'm not free at all. And a magnificent creature like you does not deserve to be chained like a dog in some peasant's barn. I'll find a way to set you free, Serif. I promise you that."

Serif lifted himself up again when the young man stepped back, out of reach of his long nails. He wouldn't have minded a bit of body heat, and Serif shivered noticeably, curling himself up tightly. "I'm as intelligent as any human could be, I'm sure. Perhaps more. I have been around longer than your little village, after all, and I have seen things. Beautiful and horrible things, sometimes colliding drastically. I have seen the worst in a human and I have seen the best, peace and war, murder and birth. I am quite intelligent, by many standards."

He shifted a little, looking up. There was no sun pouring in from the hole in the ceiling above him, and it made the area cold. He shivered again. "Young man, why have you not escaped? No chains bind you here, you are able to escape at any time. Leave your cruel father and find your way to a better home. Why does he treat you so awfully? There must be a reason..." He was so curious, yet his situation shouldn't have let him be. He was a prisoner, and yet he was more concerned about the human in front of him.

Isiah noticed the naga shivering, realising that maybe he was cold blooded like a snake and needed external heat to warm him up. He remembered the blankets often used for keeping the cows and horses dry and searched for them, but never turning his back on Serif. He didn't want the naga to think he wasn't listening. "I can't... I... I have illnesses. I can't just leave, I have nowhere to go..." he said finally, looking to Serif as he pulled out a dusty blanket from a storage bin.

He dragged it towards Serif, placing it within his reach. "This might be able to keep you warm. I'll try to bring something more fitting tomorrow..." He sighed and sat on the ground, hugging his thin knees. "My father hates me because I... Don't conform to what he thinks a man should be." Because I like men, he added in his mind.

Serif reached forward, grabbing the dusty thing and putting it around his shoulders. "It isn't much---I need the sunlight, energy from the rays, but I suppose it's better than nothing at all." He shrugged a bit. "What is your illness...? I'm sure you look somewhat healthy, if you had a little more meat on your bones of course... I'm sure you could find a better home for yourself and, in doing so, find the health that eludes you."

He shifted a bit, curling his tail around himself and sliding into the middle. "What does your false prophet of a father believe a man should be?" Serif asked. "Because he certainly is not living up to what I believe a man should be. Foolish, brash, unwilling to listen, and judging me for what he sees and not for what he knows me to be. I believe he is mad. But what does he believe? Is it near what you believe?" He was curious. Serif shifted, bringing his hand up and pulling it through his hair gently, letting it lie over his shoulder and arm.

"I... I think a man should be wise, strong, compassionate... My father... Only believes in the Bible and God. He doesn't care for anything else. He didn't care for my mother, and he doesn't care for me." He went quiet, watching the naga's tail, as if hypnotised by it. "I'm sorry he captured you... I don't even know why he did... Maybe he feared that if the townspeople went to you, they'd figure out that God is a lie to keep them under control of him."

"I... Have various illnesses. We don't... Really have medical care here. I've seen newspapers, about other cities and towns, and they have things called doctors that can make the ill healthy again. My father thinks that God will heal the needy, heal those that pray hard enough." He shifted, his eyes tracing the outline of Serif. "My father believes I must fast in order to purify myself..." He sighed, jumping slightly when he heard the voice of the priest, calling out for him.

"I have to go. If he knew I wasn't in the chapel and in here talking to you... I'll... I'll try to bring you something to eat tomorrow, and something warmer..." He got to his feet, shaking slightly. "What do you like to eat? I can try to bring you something nice."

Serif closed his eyes. He couldn't help but think about what he could possibly do for the young man. Make him feel better, find food for him. He could let the young man take the path to his home and sort through the bags of preserved food so he could eat, and look through the medicinal herbs and bottles he'd collected. Over the years Serif had found abandoned carts, or had often been given by those he met. He had hoarded it all away and didn't use much at all. Gold, silver, bronze. Bags of food preserved for years. Bolts of fabric. Gems, both cut and uncut. He had just about everything, and used none of it.

"Don't worry about me." Serif sat up when Isiah piped up. "I eat once a week regularly, but can go up to a month, comfortably, without food. And I'm sure nothing you could find would help me---I eat moderately sized animals whole." He shifted his jaw a little---he could disengage it, send his fangs back, and open his throat wide enough to send compacted animals down easily. Nothing else would feel right. "Go. You need not be in trouble because of me." He shifted, burying his head underneath one of the coils of his tail.

Isiah shuddered at the thought, but continued out the window anyway, only glancing back at the large snakeman before quickly running behind the barn so it seemed he had come from the chapel. He staggered slightly up the path, towards his house where his father stood in the doorway, watching him.

"Yes father?" he asked, coming to a halt in front of the man. His father peered at him suspiciously, but didn't ask him where he had been.

"Where's your cane?" he asked, making Isiah flinch slightly and look about him. He had totally forgotten to bring it with him when he went to see what the commotion in the barn had been.

"I left it upstairs, forgot about it."

"Feeling strong enough to walk without it?" his father seemed happy, and indeed, when Isiah looked up at him, he was smiling. "That's God's will, child." Isiah nodded, feeling numb. He let himself be taken back inside the house and led to the dining room, where dinner had already been served. He sat down at his usual chair and ate his small portions of vegetables quietly.

"Is everything alright, Isiah? You are awfully quiet," his father asked him, watching him through the golden spectacles he wore on his nose. Isiah shrugged and continued to eat, finishing and excusing himself from the table.

"I just need to go pray some more, father," he spoke, leaving the kitchen and heading towards the chapel. The small bridge-like path that went over the water was always a peaceful walk for him. Once inside the small building, he found his usual spot and knelt, but he didn't speak to God. He thought about Serif and how he could help the naga escape.

When he was alone again, Serif's ears twitched, waiting for the footfalls to disappear entirely. Then he shifted a little and uncoiled himself. Putting his hand on one of the chains, Serif grimaced and winced a little, shrugging out from under the blanket and looking around the barn. A shard of sunlight was finally warming the ground beside him, and he approached it, lying down and sighing beneath it. It was something, so far, and soon enough it would be larger, and his blood would circulate the warmth to his tail. It was something, at least. He turned over onto his stomach, his tail moving about in twitches. What had he done to come to this?

He sat up, staring around. He'd been kidnapped, entrapped, and now what? What would they do to him? Would they kill him slowly? Take his scales? His beautiful, precious scales? Would they cut his ears off, or hands, or would they make him weaker, so weak that he couldn't fight back whatsoever, and abuse him? It hurt to think of, and his eyes began watering, spilling tears. He hadn't cried in decades. Centuries. He sighed shakily, rubbing his arms, shuddering not from the cold but from his situation. He couldn't stay silent.

He wailed, each agonizing cry ending shakily. Each scream rumbled the earth below him and his body, but he couldn't stop. He was in pain---mental anguish, physical weakness, and he couldn't even break one of the boards beside him, one of those termite-eaten boards that hadn't been used to build the barn. He hated it all---hated the priest that had come to drag him away from his life. The only thing he didn't hate was the boy---Isiah.

It was dark when Isiah left the chapel. The monks had already lit the candles that floated on the lake's surface when he slowly made his way back to his home. He glanced over towards the barn, wondering if Serif was OK. What did his father have planned for the snake man? He hated to think that Serif would be cut up and used for experiments. He shuddered at the thought, even though he knew that his father disapproved of science. Perhaps Serif would be used for his weather making abilities, so his father would seem more in tune with God?

As he walked, lost in thought, he almost bumped into Zachary, who was carrying a shovel over one shoulder and heading towards the cemetery. Isiah gasped and apologised, blushing slightly. The man merely laughed and patted Isiah's shoulder.

"You seem lost in thought," Zachary commented, stopping his walk towards the graveyard and leaning against the shovel. "What's on your mind, Isiah?"

"Nothing... I'm just... Thinking about... Stuff..." Isiah muttered, trying not to gaze at Zachary. He couldn't tell anyone about Serif and the fact he had been in the barn. he could get in trouble, or cause rumours to spread.

Zachary tilted his head, but didn't say anything more, picking up the shovel and wishing Isiah a goodnight. Isiah watched him leave, suddenly feeling weak at the knees. Zachary had said his name... Had touched him... He now knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at all tonight.

After a time Serif had finally given up on his pitiful screams. No one heard, or if they heard, they didn't care. Of course they didn't. Their little serpentine helper, the naga that helped them when it was too dry, or too wet, summoning or dispelling rain, simply didn't matter enough to come help. Did they think he expected reward? He had little to do in life beyond explore the mountain, find abandoned carts of interesting items, help them with their weather trouble, and eat every week or every other week to keep up his strength. He simply wouldn't believe they had stood behind their psychotic priest to let this happen unless all had been ingrained with the concept that he was simply a demon. A disgusting abomination.

He growled deep in his chest, but the vibrations pained his throat as they rose and tried to become vocal. So he calmed himself, wrapped himself around the pole that held his oddly blessed---or cursed---chains, and held onto it. What he wouldn't give for his home. One of his warm chambers. In the evening he would submerge himself in the clear, fresh water that bubbled up from a warm spot in the center of the mountain. Now he was in a cool, shadowed barn. The sun that had managed to come through the slat at the roof had dimmed. It didn't warm him the way it had earlier. His earth-toned tail writhed as he slid away, restlessly sliding around the area he could. There were a few yards that separated him from the front doors, which looked to be locked by chains. More chains. He sighed, hissing the breath out through his lengthening fangs.

The cool of evening brought breezes from the open areas of the barn. The slats, the cracks, the holes. No doubt the holes were made by small rodents. He saw none now. They were probably terrified of him. He looked around for the dusty blanket the young man had given him before, hoping to shield a bit of himself from the breeze, but saw it had somehow slid out of his reach. Serif's breath hitched and he growled again, ignoring the pain in his throat, and he screamed again, on and on. He had nothing to say---couldn't say anything. Screaming was as good as it got.

The screams kept him awake more than anything else. He had asked his father what the noises were and the priest had lied, saying that one of their pigs was dying and had to be locked away in fear of disease and madness settling in. Isiah imagined the naga, his tail coiling and uncoiling as he thrashed about. Was he in pain? Was he scared? Was it a combination of both that drove him to scream horrendously? Isiah longed to go to the barn, to help calm the beast. But his father was keeping a close eye on him, as though he predicted that his son would do something like that.

Even though it was hard to do so, Isiah slept until the morning, when he woken by his father. It was breakfast time and then time to pray in the chapel, though Isiah planned on visiting the barn to talk to Serif some more.

He had entirely lost his voice, by the time the first rays of morning came and the sunlight was beginning to light the world around them. It would be a while before it warmed Serif, and for the hundredth time he wished he'd invested time in crafting the warming necklace he had wanted to make. That would have saved him the freezing sensations. He was cold. With that necklace he would have been warm. Maybe if Isiah came...

No, he wouldn't come back. He was interested in seeing Serif once and that was it---to quell his interest in the being his father had imprisoned. He tried to speak to himself, but let out only a weak rasp, and coughed. Damn it... His voice scolded his stupidity. He should have been watchful. Should have known this could have---would have---happened. He didn't have to sun himself where the whole village could see and yet here he was after having done just that. He hit the wall of the barn and yet, it only shuddered. If he had his strength, Serif would have pounded the wall into dust long ago. But he couldn't move easily---he felt dreadfully groggy.

He shifted, looking for a window he could at least stick his head out. But found nothing. Nothing close enough for him. He tried to pull the chain but found it would shock him if he put too much pressure on it. Gods, if he could find his way out of here... He would ruin that priest...

Once his father had gone into town for the day, Isiah crept around the side of the barn and climbed in through the window, finding Serif still chained up in the back. He approached slowly, carrying a thick blanket he had taken from his own bed. "Serif, it's me, Isiah..." he stopped short of where the naga could reach him and looked at the creature. It seemed tired, cold and groggy. It made Isiah feel really bad for it. He held onto his cane tightly and glanced at the roof. There were more sunroofs up there, if he could just climb into the hay loft...

He set down the blanket and rested his cane on the side of the building. He slowly climbed the ladder, crawling onto the hayloft and searching for the levers. He found them at the back wall, and pulled with all his strength. Suddenly the barn was filled with sunlight as every small window in the roof opened. Isiah breathed out with happiness and made his way towards the ladder slowly. A loud cracking noise sounded and a hole under his feet swallowed him, making him fall towards the barn below. He screamed and closed his eyes, hoping Serif would catch him.

Serif growled when he heard someone speak to him, but only one person knew his name. Isiah. He had come back? Serif turned to look at the young man, smiling a little but failing to make it seem anything less than pained. He wanted to say hello, but didn't think he could do that yet. His throat hurt so badly. When the human began climbing the rickety ladder he shook his head. "I-Isa..." Serif coughed, gasping when the slats in the roof opened and morning sunlight streamed in. He shielded his eyes, gasping when something broke and Isiah came down.

His tail went up, and it caught him in midair. Before the human had a chance to get up he brought up the young man by the back of his shirt. "You shouldn't have done that." Serif scolded immediately, his voice painfully hoarse. "Why did you do that? I could have brought you up there, you might have gotten hurt!" The concern in his own ragged tone shocked him, and he settled down the young man on his feet and handed him the walking stick. "Be... be careful next time." He growled. "I don't want anyone to come in and see you injured---Gods forbid killed---with me." His hearts---both hearts---were beating quickly with the remaining shock, but that was fading.

Isiah panted hard, his heart was still racing. The creature seemed concerned about him. Was it genuine or was it simply because Serif couldn't have Isiah killed just yet? In any rate, he hugged the naga tightly. "Th-Thank you for saving my life... I... I am sorry to make you worry." He ran his hands down Serif's back, marvelling at the skin that turned into scales. He felt a bit strange and let go, blushing visibly. What about Serif had aroused him? The naked flesh of a man pressed against him, no doubt. He shook his head, ridding himself of visions of what Serif could do to him.

"I just... Figured you needed the sun to be warm... You looks so cold I couldn't just do nothing." The sun panels were falling open by themselves always, his father wouldn't be suspicious.

Serif's hand covered at least half the young man's upper body when it rested there for a moment. He just hadn't expected a show of affection, no matter how brief it was, from the weak, ill young human. "I do need the sun." Serif admitted after Isiah had pulled away. He hefted the young man onto the floor and slid himself away, curling up in the sunlight. "My blood is cold, and I need warmth from sunlight, or some warm patch of land, to take that energy. If I get too cold... I get tired. And if I don't find warmth soon, I'll die." He shuddered, not from the cold but from the admission. He didn't like to face the fact that inadequate heat or light would kill him.

"But you..." He regarded Isiah through one eye, the pattern a complex starburst of red, orange, amber, and light brown. "Why do you waste your time here? You may be found, and then what would your father do? If I were able, I could take care of him for you. I could put the fear of his God into him so that he lets you live your life. But..." He shifted, and the cold chain moved along his shoulders. "This is a bit of a problem." He even felt it. Weak. Like a human. He gritted his teeth, shrugging off the flare of anger. He wouldn't let that happen in front of Isiah.

"I... I... Feel really bad for you, I guess... I wish this never happened, you must be beyond angry, and in pain... I can't stand to think of a friend hurting, no matter what they may be." Isiah sighed, rubbing his eyes, his heart still racing from his fall. He was grateful the naga had caught him, even if Serif was now scolding him. He glanced at the chains and felt pained. Was there anyway to break them? He still hadn't begun to find out, but he could do some reading tonight. He would have to sneak to the church's library of course, seeing the only book his father let him read was the Bible.

"It makes you weak...? It has to be cursed... And here we all are thinking that my father hates magic and kills witches..." He sighed again, but watched Serif for awhile. "What was it like? Living on the mountain by yourself? Did you ever get lonely?"

Serif rolled his eyes but didn't reply at first. It seemed the man didn't practice anything that he taught in that church he had seen before being shut away in the barn he was currently calling his cell. He propped his head up and drew small patterns in the loose dirt with his nail, and glanced up when Isiah spoke. "Lonely...?" He mused a little, then sighed, drawing his hand through his hair and looking up to give Isiah his full attention. "I... never thought about it." It was true. Closing his eyes, Serif let out a gentle hiss and opened them again. Yes. It was lonely. It was awful. He spent all his time wandering, eating, collecting, chasing, watching, and waiting for humans to come to ask him for rain or sunlight. That was what he told Isiah.

"And now I have no idea what is to become of me. I would gladly share my things with you and your village, but they seem to think of me as a monster. Your father must have scared them to death to have such control. Young man... If you can make it to my cavern, you will see so many chambers. And in these chambers you will find food, and clothing, and cloth, and medicines. I never stole these---I found these in my many years. I would travel the roads and find abandoned or looted caravans and bring everything to my home... I had little choice, because I couldn't bare to let it all go to waste. But I do nothing with them. I just collect. And keep collecting. But... you need what I have there. You certainly need food. And perhaps medicine to give you strength. I have that in my home, but I cannot accompany you. If you take a hidden route you can get there easily. I even have books. Maybe they say something about..." He shifted a little. "... this cursed chain..." He sighed, lowering his head until his face was against the cool floor of the barn.