Compassion meets Frustration
Ever since he'd pulled himself back to the here, everything felt wrong. His head was fuzzy most of the time with memories lost but not forgotten, there was one thing he remembered though and that was he wanted to help. Help the hurt, sooth the sorrow, mend the breaking. These days he tended to help little creatures, nugs were his favorite. They liked to hide from him in the ruins of the barracks, running through splintered wood and jumping over warped metal that lost the shape of what it was supposed to be through time. Times like this though, he felt there was peace. The sky wasn't what brought him peace, no, whenever he looked at it something twisted in his gut and made him frown. It was the little creatures who approached him with such fascination and no fear. They were his friends. "Friend….why does that word twist the air, sour the smells, make my mind scream in tears. Broken threads, frayed at the ends but dyed such bright colors. Walls of Iron, flashing sparklers, the smell of ink and paper, birds against the sun, a bow…" He found himself rambling on, the link of memories thin but the more words he spoke out loud the better he seemed to feel. Just like staying in the ruins of an old hold did, it felt familiar and spoke to him of times best remembered. The magic in the air thrummed against his skin, whispering and singing in his ears. It felt like home even though there wasn't much left.
He was lost in his thoughts when the green tinted sky changed to an angry red, the smell of fire wafting on the breeze. A hurt called to him, bundles of threads woven so tightly with each other that it was hard to tell which hurt called. He shifted one of his nug friends off his lap and gave it an affectionate pat on the head which it returned with a little trill, he liked the happy sounds of his animal friend. They kept him in the here, made him feel like he helped. On some days they helped ease the twisting in his gut that made him think that there was something missing. A low rustling noise broke him from his revere, moments later he heard it again.
Rustle. Rustle. Rustle.
He stood suddenly, the little nugs on his lap rolling down onto the grass and squeaking as they made their escape. Pale fingers hovered above the hilt of his daggers, twitching and brushing across the smooth metal just to affirm their existence. He felt the energy of the fade pull at him, a familiar energy he'd felt hundreds of times before, like breathing he slipped into the rippling energy and vanished. In a moment he pulled himself from the waves of energy, trying to pull him in and lull his essence into slumber. The huddling form stood before him, thick with the smell of blood and clenching a sword in what appeared to be small hands.
"You're hurt…"
The figure jerked around, so shocked by his presence that the sword falls onto the ground. He could sense the pain and fear; tight like a knot wrapped around other knots and burned into the soul. He immediately held his hands up in a sight of surrender, he knew that any sudden movements would startle the child and they'd run.
"I am…...Compassion…."
He struggled saying the name, it felt heavy on his tongue and soured his mouth. The name felt wrong but it was the only one he could remember. The child scrambled for the sword again, holding it up with shaky and inexperienced hands.
"Y-You're one of them...the Dread Wolf's lackeys. The spirits he uses to watch and control us."
The voice sounded male and squeaky, a hint of tears buried beneath the words and threatening to spill into the real. Dread Wolf, the name thrummed a dark chord in him somewhere and burned his chest with an indescribable feeling that threatened to swallow him whole. No, no there was someone who needed help. He would not lost the fight to himself. Compassion turned his cool blue gaze to the huddled figure and shook his head, straw blonde hair brushing a curtain in front of his eyes.
"I am no one's lackey. I help the hurt, soothe the sorrowful...I am Compassion. There is no one else here except me, and the nugs. Would you like to meet them?"
He brightened up, there was nothing like seeing the face of a nug to make someone smile. Pink and smooth with a snout like nose and floppy ears, they looked a little strange but held their own in a veil worn world. The boy shook his head and rose from the ground, still holding the sword in front of him as a last line of defense. The anxiety pouring off the child festered and boiled, the memories came swarming in rush. Golden armor and pointed ears, shouts of an ancient language and fire. The smoke was thick in his mind, it scorched the earth and broiled the bones of the ones left behind.
"…..Mother said 'Run while you can, quick take the tunnels they won't look for you there'. Except they saw, a hint of red hair that didn't belong to the fire. Have to hurry, keep moving always keep moving...damned knife-ears. The tunnels are dark and smell like the dead, doesn't matter keep crawling, collapse the beams behind me...they won't follow."
The boy dropped his sword and began to cry, drops of tears that stained the ground with sorrow and loss. He messed up again, it had been a while since he helped a human. He pulled too tight on the terror and tore, pushing the knots together.
"No, wait….I did that wrong. I tried to help and I hurt."
For the moment he decided to focus on the physical hurt, other than dirt marred skin and a few cuts and bruises the boy looked fine. His shoulders shook from the tears, no matter how hard he tried to wipe them away with a gritty fist more came to take their place.
"It was a raid...Fen'Harel's soldiers said they heard whispers of a rebellion in one of the human colonies." He sniffed as he spoke, smearing dirt under his eyes and across his cheeks to wipe the wetness on his face. The boy turned so Compassion could see him clearer in the sunlight, he didn't look more than 12. His full head of raging red hair caught Compassions attention, it reminded him of something but the thoughts made his headache with pain of the forgotten. There was a pain in his chest, stabbing and swirling with that same forgotten feeling as before.
"There was no rebellion..they just wanted an excuse to harass us. The elder couldn't stand for it anymore and he tried to make them go away, but they got mad."
"The weak standing before the mighty, powerless against the powerful...they came with the intent to destroy. Mother said not to watch, the elder would take care of things...then the shouts started, and the heat came. Screaming through the fields and then the houses in a sea of red, people running…'Get the children! Where's the elder?...All is lost..'"
It was clear as day; shifting, shaping from the fade around them and through the boy's memories became a vision to Compassion. The first fire tipped arrow and then the others, the fields burned with a vengeance then touched their homes. Crack. A jolt of pain raced in front of Compassion's eyes and he staggered for a moment, through the boy's eyes he felt something nostalgic. Was it the elvhen the boy managed to get a look at? He couldn't focus right now, instead he held out a hand and motioned for the boy to take it.
"...My name's Nathaniel. Where are we exactly?" The boy looked around, dragging the sword behind him and putting his filthy hand in Compassions on lanky one. They started walking, past the gate ruins and through the courtyard into a semi-standing stone building that either used to be a smithing house or a bar. Compassion didn't speak for a moment, lost in thoughts that were and feeling that continued to live in the fade. The boy tugged on his hand in impatience with an underlying tone of fear fueled anxiety.
"Oh...I'm sorry, sometimes the fade whispers things to me. This is a place that's been untouched for centuries...it used to be a castle. I don't know more than that...the memories from the fade here are broken, scattered and burned at the edges. They seem like they don't quite want to be…" Compassion spoke in a tone of wistful observation and keen awareness, he couldn't fix the boy's hurts for now, but he could get him some food and water. The tables in the building were rotten and flaking from age, surrounded by almost reinforced walls and streaks of sunlight from where the roof fell in. Laying in a bundle on the floor of the main room rested an assortment of fruits and plants, some had little nibbles taken out of them and others remained untouched.
"I was going to give these to the nugs but you're hungry and there is a small lake behind the building..you can drink the water and wash your face."
"I still don't really trust you….Mom said never to trust spirits…"
"She said never to trust Fen'Harel's spirits…. I'm just Compassion."
"Then why do you live out here? Why do you have a solid form? Are you possessing someone? Are you a demon?" The boy rushed out in a flurry of questions, clutching tight to his sword and inching closer to the fruit like it was a trap. Compassion simply sat down on the floor, crossed his legs and rested his chin in an open palm.
"I am me, when I pulled myself from the fade this was the form that stuck. Nothing else felt real; choppy blonde hair and a tall figure, wrong, curly mustache and tanned skin, wrong, short red hair and sharp eyes, wrong. It was all wrong. This form felt right. I live here because it is peaceful, and I like the nugs, they keep me company...make me smile. The fade here is friendly" He chirped, like it all made sense. From the confused furrow on Nathaniel's eyebrows, the message wasn't as clear as he thought. It was hard explaining things to a human, especially a small one. Watching him now, slowly taking bites of the fruit and hugging closer to himself, Compassion felt the strangest sense of familiarity echo off the boy, it tickled the back of his head and gave him an uneasy feeling.
All of a sudden, the sounds of gentle chews stopped, and Compassion raised his eyes to look at Nathaniel. He held an apple in his hand and shook, though not from tears this time, instead Compassion felt the rage like a red-hot smack to the face. "I want to kill him….The Dread Wolf. All his servants…" Nathaniel said in a quiet voice, lowering the food to the ground and hugging tightly to himself. Anger rolled off him in waves, the cracks breaking the dam, releasing the rage. "I heard talk in the village about the rebellion, some of the older men always talked about joining them. I asked if I could go too, they said I wasn't grown up enough….I'm grown up plenty! I can hold a sword, I want to fight!" He slammed his head down onto his knees and fell silent. Compassion stared over at the boy with his blue eyes piercing through the streaks of light dimming as the sun fell.
"I can take you, the rebels are loud. Their thoughts scream across the distance, when so many people with the light of fire gather together looking at them blinds me. I can follow the fire, hear the fight…will taking you make you feel better?" Compassion asked, leaning his head to the side and blinking from under the blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. "I…yes….it would. They can train me, we can fight together!" Nathaniel looked up now, excitement glimmering in his eyes and lighting down to his soul. Compassion squinted, the sudden light behind his words shined right through him and made him warm inside. He could help, taking Nathaniel to the rebels would help the hurt and untie the pain.
"Spirits don't have name's, right?" Nathaniel asked curiously, wrapping up in his cloak to stave off the cold as night fell.
"But…Compassion is my name" He said in confusion, furrowing his eyebrows into a frown.
"That's not a name….its what you are, a Spirit of Compassion. You need a name." He stated firmly.
"I see..." Another pain right behind his eyes, stopping his train of thought and making him squeeze them shut. It throbbed with the things that were and could be, a name stretched out from beyond the fade to whisper in his ears. "You can call me….Cole. Just Cole." He spoke the name and liked the way it tingled on his tongue and warmed his chest. It was a warm feeling.
"Alright Cole, we'll start traveling in the morning. I'm still watching you though, spirits are hard to figure out anyways."