A/N: HELLO THERE GUYS! I JUST GOT A NEW LAPTOP! WOOT! Also, I am going to be rewriting CCIAP. I think that it really needs more meat to it! So, I'll take down the other one, and start putting this one up instead! I hope you guys don't mind, but this one will be better than the other one! :D

DISCLAIMER: Hey, wait - this is mine. I don't need one of these! Sweet! :)

Compassion Comes In All Places

***Chapter 1***

Childhood

Rathmir's family was dying. The Scarlet Fever had swept through the kingdom of Maladock like wildfire. Rathmir was the youngest of the Compassion family. He was only 3. He didn't know what was going on, and he certainly didn't know why his family members wouldn't let him his mother and father. Eventually, there was no one to stop him. They had all contracted the sickness. All of them except for him. His mother was a mage and had cast a spell on him. It was full of her love, which was the strongest protective magic imaginable. But sadly, when she had cast it, she was too weak to cast it on any other family member. She was sick when she had cast it. Her husband, and her family had understood.

Rathmir pushed open the door to his parents quarters,

"Mama? Papa?" he called quietly, for it was early in the morning and they were probably asleep. The sight that met him made bile rise in his throat. The smell as well. Most of his family was lying there, dead or near it. He dropped onto all fours and wretched up the contents of his stomach. Once he had, he sat up and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his tunic. "Mama? Papa? Auntie? Uncle? Gramma? Grampa?" he asked, running around and shaking the collective family members. His hands were covered in filth. Both in his own vomit and his family members rotting remains. He sat down in front of his mother and father's bed, leaning against the board at the end. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them. He began to sob. They were heavy sobs, that wracked his entire body. He had no idea what he was going to do now. He was 3, but he was sensible. Rathmir knew that his family was dead. All of them. As it was Maladockian tradition for both the eldest son's family and his wife's family to live under the same roof.

Rathmir stayed for several days before the small became too much. He was small, but with enough effort, he had dug enough ditches behind the small cottage to hold funerals for his loved ones. He slowly dragged out their corpses one by one, until eventually all of them were buried. He went to the forest and gather the most beautiful flowers he could find, as well as some wood planks for markers. He carved their names with the knife his father had given him for his birthday that year. He didn't know their real names of course, so he inscribed what he knew them by upon the random pieces of wood he had gathered.

After the grave markers were set and the flowers had been laid, he gathered his few possessions and a bit of food. Rathmir left his home, and his family behind. It was hard for him to do, considering that was only place he knew. Other than a few spots in the forest and also the village market. All the while the life of the village went on around him as if nothing had happened to the poor silver haired boy. They had their own problems to worry about after all. So, Rathmir plugged on, deep into the forest he went. He eventually came across a small hollow. It was sheltered by the trees and there was a small abandoned hut there. He pushed open the creaky door slightly and then all the way when he found no one inside.

Despite the fact that he was young, he had learned much. He knew how to cook, maybe 3 different kinds of meals. He could start a fire and braid his hair. He could keep a place clean and wash himself. He could also hunt and kill rabbits and such, as his father had taught him. He took out his father's knife and looked at his reflection in it. He looked a practical mess. Rathmir's hair was askew and he had dark circles under his eyes. Everything about his appearance screamed disheveled.

He sighed and sunk down onto the dirt floor. There was a hole in the roof, so light and seedlings had made their way in. Rathmir curled up in a patch of springy grass, using his small pack for a pillow. Things had gone so wrong, so fast. In only a month his entire life had been turned upside down. He let out a small yawn and settled into a dreamless sleep. Hopefully tonight, he wouldn't dream of his family.