Author's note: Hello! Thank you so much for your follows and favs. There aren't much, but I literally can't tell you how happy it makes me. (Thank you DL for your review! I do plan on continuing this story. I already have a lot planned out! And I totally agree with the Inquisitor thing. The Inquisitor doesn't really seem like they would be a good choice for Cole. I thought of someone along the lines of young and not particularly experienced with life, so they could learn together. The Inquisitor just seems kinda more like a parent-figure to me.) I'll try to post once a week, but I'm super busy with school and whatnot. I only really have time to write during the weekends. Anyway, enough rambling. Hope you like the chapter!

Chapter Four:

The Moon

x

Valora lay face down on her bed, tears drenching the pillow as she wept uncontrollably. Her fists were clenched tightly on the pillowcase, clinging to it as if it could offer any solace. This was the first time she had truly mourned; the first time she had allowed herself to remember. Now it seemed like too much. Like she had nothing to live for. Her breaths were jagged, heart pounding irregularly as she recalled the dying light in her sister's eyes. It's all my fault. She couldn't take it, she needed to forget. Maker, let me forget. She had tried urging Wisdom to cover up the memory, but the spirit had stubbornly resisted, leaving her to fend for herself.

"What good are you?" she shouted at the spirit viciously. "Why won't you let me forget like you did before? Why can't you stop the pain? I can't take this!" Valora raised to settle on her knees, sobbing into her hands. "Why won't you help me?"

Suddenly she felt the stir of a presence in the room. Her bloodshot eyes lifted to find the Inquisitor and Solas entering the room through the battered doorframe. They felt Valora needed an explanation for the young man's sudden outburst. Valora thought she needed to be alone, but she could not have been happier to see these two coming to check on her. Someone cares. She wasn't expecting anyone to care.

"Valora, I apologize for Cole's behavior. He was only trying to help," Solas spoke softly to her. At the sight of Solas, Wisdom quickly shrouded Valora's memories again, as if it had been waiting for the right moment. Almost instantly she regained her composure, wiping her tear-stained cheeks and settling her rapid heartbeats. The Inquisitor made her way to Valora's bed, sitting down beside her and placing a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"I know it can be off-setting, but that's just how he is. He can sense people's pain. He's, well . . ."

"A spirit of compassion," Solas finished bluntly, not content to beat around the bush. "It is his first instinct to help people in pain, as any benevolent spirit would."

Valora gawked. Solas' words reminded her of her encounter with Wisdom. Was that boy the same as she? But she wasn't technically a spirit. How could a spirit be a person? She had never heard of a spirit with a human body unless they were possessed. That's just not right.

"So he is a spirit? He is compassion?" Valora asked, suddenly very intrigued. She tilted her head slightly and peered at the hairless elf across the room. He sighed, a look of deep thought crossing his features.

"It is not that simple. He is a spirit, but he retains the body of a young man. He has not been completely clear with his origin; however, I cannot discern any malicious intent in Cole. He seems only to want to help. We can be sure he meant no harm in what he has said tonight," Solas told her, his tone matter-of-fact. Valora suddenly felt a jab of guilt at storming away from the man in such a rage when she realized he was really only trying to help.

"Is he okay? He's not upset with how I left, is he?" Valora asked this to the Inquisitor, who paused before she raised from her position beside Valora to stand beside Solas.

"He isn't taking it very well. In fact, he wanted to make you forget and try it over again, but you left too quickly for him to have a chance," Inquisitor Lavellan said, frowning slightly.

"Make me forget?"

"Ah, yes, another thing. As a spirit, Cole has the ability to make others forget him, or simply fail to notice him at all. He is unique; I have never seen anything like him in all of my years of research and travel," Solas reported hastily. "But, perhaps you should get some rest, if you've no more questions?"

"No. No more questions. Thank you," Valora said thoughtfully. With a smile from each of the two elves, they left, closing the door to leave Valora alone in her quarters. He can make me forget? Can he make me forget . . . everything? Her thoughts kept her occupied as she lay in her bed, until finally her mind drifted, and she fell into a deep sleep.

She was running, her sister cradled in her arms protectively. They were escaping together, fleeing from the group of mages who threatened their lives. It was only when Valora looked back when she realized they were being chased. Her heart beat faster, her hands clutching onto her sister with all of her strength, feet pounding on the moist earth with all of their fervor. She would not let her sister down this time. She would not lose Anariel again. Never.

Breaking off to the left to hide inside of a thick, hollowed tree, she watched the Venatori run straight ahead, deeper into the forest. The mages had lost them. Breathing many sighs of relief and exhaustion, she smiled, her lips turning up to uncover a row of white teeth. "We won, Anariel. We're free!" She looked down at her sister, who remained cradled in her tired arms. But Valora's eyes widened, mouth gaped to form a scream as the girl in her arms had become a grotesque corpse, a decaying skeleton caked with charred flesh. The corpse's mouth gaped open, filled with bloodied dirt and a swarm of maggots.

NO! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! She was shaking, pressure gripping at her shoulders tightly, weighing her down. She felt as if she would fall down into a never-ending abyss, be swallowed by the ever-growing darkness that always threatened to suffocate her. She could feel the atmosphere dissolve around her. She was finally dying, drowning in the deepest depths of her sorrow when –

"Please, wake up!" She regained consciousness, feeling the same pressure on her shoulders, the same tight grip that was intent to drag her away from this world only moments ago. Her eyes shot open to find the strange boy from the tavern hovering over her, staring down at her. Valora could see the panic in his dark eyes, illuminated dimly by the lantern at her bedside table. He immediately stopped shaking her once he realized he had woken her and released his grip on her shoulders, backing away and lowering his head apologetically.

"I – I'm sorry. You were having a nightmare. I was trying to help," he stuttered over his words, as if any of them would set Valora into a rampage. She sat up in her bed, rubbed her eyes, and then looked Cole over. She could see he was wearing dirty, poorly stitched leathers and the same questionable hat. He stared at the ground, hands fidgeting, waiting to be yelled at for disturbing her sleep. Valora did not yell.

"Thank you," she whispered, giving him the courage to peek up from beneath the rim of his hat. He was relieved there would be no anger this time. He despised anger; it was harder to help someone who was angry. Valora just stared at him wordlessly until he shifted his feet to step towards her once more.

"You were hurting a lot, and I messed up when I tried to help. I didn't say it right . . . I made it worse." He murmured, guilt palpable in his small voice. "Will you let me try again?"

Even with the dark shadows shrouding half of his features, his expression was undeniably genuine; he did only want to help. Valora knew she would be getting no more sleep after the terror of her latest dream, and she couldn't just say no to someone so willing to try to ease her pain. That's what she wanted most. She nodded to him, standing up from her bed as he turned to walk toward the door. She followed him out onto the battlements overlooking the snowy mountains. The air was fairly peaceful as it swirled around Skyhold, causing Valora's cloak to billow under the light of the moon.

Valora was cold-natured, and even now she had not grown accustomed to the freezing air of the Frostbacks. I see how it got its name . . . She stared across the whitewashed mountains, crossing her shivering arms over her chest to preserve heat. Cole took a seat on the edge of the wall, much to Valora's horror.

"I won't fall," he soothed her, feeling her worry slowly fade. She strode over to where he was, not trusting herself too close to the edge; she wasn't known for her impeccable balance. As she neared, he looked up at her. The moon seeped under his hat, causing the shadows to vanish from his eyes. Valora felt an icy shiver that had nothing to do with the climate crawl down her spine as she returned his gaze, her breath hitching in her throat. He had pale, blonde hair that strung down into his cold eyes. And those haunted eyes did more than just look; they penetrated deep into her mind. Valora could almost feel him picking her brain apart to scrutinize any and every memory she had to offer him.

"What happened that night . . . Your sister . . . I am sorry," he started. "You feel like you could have stopped it, like it's your fault. It's not."

She swallowed a knot in her throat and sat down away from the edge of the wall, but near enough for him to be able to look over at her. As she lowered to a cross-legged sitting position, his eyes followed, causing his hat to tilt back down. Their gaze was severed by the dark shadows of his hat as they once again consumed his eyes. Valora let out a breath of relief she didn't know she'd been holding before she spoke.

"If I had just fought harder, I could've–"

"No. You were strong. You did what you had to do. You did all you could."

"But it wasn't enough. I couldn't stop her in time! I could have stopped her, but I didn't! And now she's dead. And I—I . . ." Valora turned her face away from him, not wanting him to see her tears as they painfully welled up in her eyes. She pulled the cloak's hood down over her face, trying to shield her pain from him, but to no avail.

"It wasn't you. You couldn't have saved her. But you did save yourself, and she would be happy to know that. You lived, and now your sister won't be forgotten. She is still there, in you," he said in a low tone, his voice sincere and smooth. A voice of compassion.

Valora pondered this, searching for reason in his words. If I died, no one would remember us. No one would care.

"It is better that you survived. Ana would have wanted you to. She would want you happy."

Ana . . . He was right. What if Anariel had seen her sobbing like this? It would break her heart to know Valora's heart was broken. Maybe there was nothing she could have done to save her sister. But she can live now, and her sister's memory will live on with her. Maybe Ana wasn't here, but she wasn't gone. Suddenly Valora didn't want to forget the pain; there was much strength to be gained from overpowering grief. Maybe it's not my fault.

"You're still afraid of them. You wear the dead woman's clothes to hide."

Cole suddenly shifted, moving closer to her. He crouched in front of her then, causing Valora to stir uneasily. Another glow settled over his features as he faced the light in the sky. She warily looked up from the confines of her hood and found his crystalline eyes boring into hers.

"You don't need to hide anymore," he said, lifting a gloved hand to the brim of her hood. "You are safe here." He pulled her hood back, exposing her pointed ears and coppery hair that fell in loose curls down her shoulders.

Valora was frozen in place by his gaze and close proximity, her green eyes wide open to stare back into his; they seemed almost treacherous despite his soothing words. His irises held the color of steel under the moon's bright glow, only reminding Valora of two sharpened daggers as they pierced deeply into her mind. Her lips parted as if to say something, but only offered a slightly choked noise. Suddenly Cole released his hold of her cloak and tilted his head to the side.

"Sometimes when I listen to you, I can't understand. It's like someone is trying to think louder than you, and your mind gets twisted—tangled. It isn't like that with anyone else," he said curiously. She tore her gaze away, instead staring at her hands in her lap.

"Cole, are you really a spirit?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Yes. Well, almost. I used to think I was a ghost. I made mistakes . . . But I got better. Now I can make people forget about me when they see me, or not see me. In that way, I am like a spirit. But, Varric thinks I can be a real person, if I try. Other spirits aren't like me. They don't look like me. They can't do the things that I can. In a way, I feel human, but not."

A perplexed look crossed Cole's face as he spoke. This seemed to be a difficult subject to cover for him. He really didn't know exactly what he was, as if he was caught somewhere in between this world and the world beyond.

"So you don't really know for sure?"

"I need to be here. I need to help people. That is all I know," he said honestly.

That was enough for Valora.

"Sometimes my thoughts are muddled because I," she started nervously, "I let a spirit inside of me. A spirit of wisdom. It's new for me, so sometimes I get confused. I think one thing, and it thinks another, and it's hard to be certain which thoughts are mine and which aren't," she admitted to him, pausing over words to think and collect what thoughts she knew were her own.

He nodded, as if he suspected as much, and knitted his fingers together before speaking again. "I knew someone like that, once. She was old and stern, but good inside . . . Bright, like you," Cole stated. Valora raised her head to give him a questioning look, and was met with a gentle gaze.

Valora noticed the subtle change in his eyes and couldn't help but admire the delicate moonlight reflecting off of his bright orbs, making them sparkle charmingly. They weren't as cold anymore, seeming to warm up kindly as he spoke of her. Oh, Maker. An elusive shade of red spread along her cheeks as she realized she'd been staring, not responding, as if she was in the middle of a trance rather than a conversation.

"I–I'm bright?"

"Yes. But not too bright. I can still see you."

Valora was confused. What in Andraste's name was this boy even talking about? How could a person be bright? That was a trait for fire, or the sun, not for an elf who barely knew where she was or why she was even alive. She shook her head and looked up at the night sky. This brought a smile to her face when her eyes landed on a particular soft, yet strong, light.

"So, I'm like the moon?" Valora joked lightheartedly. But Cole turned his chin up, pensively gazing at the bright sphere in the dark expanse of sky. He allowed the smallest of smiles to curl on his lips as he studied the source of the night's soft glow.

"Yes . . . you're just like the moon."