My father was a ship captain named Charles “Bull” Cerin and my mother was a dervish dancer from a faraway desert named Mirta Dawnflower. Though her skin was dark, her hair was white, which she passed on to me. I was told that we had angle blood in our line. Growing up I took after her and she taught me the dervish ways, but I never developed the same devotion to her Gods. When I was 13 my father set sail and I never saw him again. Over the years I heard rumors of a rogue corsair ship named the Rooster’s Dawn, which was my father’s ship. When I was 16 I signed on for my first ship. I was out for over a year. That first voyage was when my mark first appeared. I did not even notice it. It was the crew that pointed it out. They said it was a bad sign. When I finally made it home my mother was gone. A friend of the family said she went to find my father. I lived on my own, but no ship would have me on account of my mark, so I sang and preformed for my income.
One night when I was 19 I was attacked and taken. The men would not say why, and the journey was long. Eventually I ended up in a cell in some castle. There were a few kids already in the cell, with more coming over time. Our captors experimented on us, me most of all. Of course it was my fault. I constantly antagonized the guards and sought their ire. I could not stand by and let them hurt all these kids. I volunteered whenever they came to take someone. Sometimes it worked and sometimes I ended up spitting blood from the guard’s fist. I tried to keep people’s spirit up. I sang songs, and if I managed to get a full night of sleep I healed a few wounds. Something was happening with these experiments though; I found that I could purify food and water, even the worst most rotten kind. I think that saved a lot of people. It looks like our captors brought in some adults. They look capable. Maybe this is our chance to escape.