Compassion had to give into herself. Two could really move. One second she was savoring some lovely spiced tea, the next she had to wrestle Two back into bed. Nevermind half their bones were still fractured and their organs could be most generously described as tenderised. No, Two woke like a demon chased her from sleep and immediately reached for their knife. When she found it missing she turned to sharp teeth and raw desperation.

Compassion congratulated herself on hiding that away while she half sat on the girl. “Settle down now. I’d really like to know what convinced you to go and waste all the effort I spent putting you back together.”

Two stilled made on final effort then went limp. Their eyes scoured compassion. Wide and full of terror, a cool wind wind blew through them and stole the light from their eyes. “How am I alive.” They croaked dead and defeated. Compassion smiled at the lie they painted. She was so good at putting truth into lies.

Two was tired, she stank of pain and fear, but those were merely overtones, accents. Compassion looked deep into their lying eyes but couldn’t find the quiet desperation that defined them.

“Well being home tends to leave one feeling better. Why shouldn’t you be better?” Compassion eased of Two and into her chair. The room was small, just big enough for the bed and a little table with a lamp and tea set. Compassion had butchered her clothes and curtains to make that wrapped Two. Comparisons effort to keep them alive long enough to heal. Compassion doubted the power of good company invested in her could cure death. No matter what that meant in this place.

Two stewed on that information. A bog of thought only hinted at by their leaking essence. To her mundane sense, it was just a brief pain-induced lapse. “A home?” they hissed and struggled to sit against the wall. Their blanket slid down to reveal yet more bandages, most stained through.

The sight plucked her heart strings. She wanted to give herself a hug, but her whole wouldn’t accept that. Not now, not when she was so vulnerable. They might just try and strangle her with the bed sheets.

Not many people appreciated hoe violent she was. Largely because she never put herself in a position where it was needed. Compassion knew herself better.

“This place “ she waved at the rafters. Shadows danced merrily merrily bouncing with the bedside table lamp’s flame. Warm light washed through the open door leading to the living room and fireplace. “Is home. Not a place we’ve ever been mind you. But one dreamt and remembered nevertheless. Even if you’ve neglected it Two.”

Compassion offered her a cup of tea with a gesture. Then refiled her own from the tea pot. She didn’t need a refill, but the gesture would reassure Two she wasn’t being poisoned. They’d eventually take it without her action, but it was a little act to ease their stress.

They took the cup. Their shoulders hung low and their half dried hair dropped in long dark clumps. They drank deeply of the warm tea. Their slight shivering eased.

Compassion smiled. “You can ask the question. I know you don’t really care about me or the magic or any of this. You just want to win. Survive!” she enthused with distaste. “and keep going to the next step. Never stopping or turning back.”

Two blinked, that was the only hint her words were measured. “I’ve recently realised the glaring fault in that reasoning. I’m ignorant. I barely understand the rules of this place and that’s half of why I showed up on your doorstep looking like the victim of a gang initiation. I think I could use a conversation.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

It was Compassions turn ti blink. Was their concussion still healing or was this the ephemeral ‘maturity’ people talked so much about? Compassion didn’t stymie her laugh. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise? I planned this whole thing while you were sleeping. I’d offer you my support and you’d skittishly accept. Then we’d spare with words until I got you to actually accept my support and the deeper fact that we don’t completely hate ourselves. Ah but its seems I’ll have to throw it out.”

Two watched tiredly, taking deep sips of the tea, and the air.

Compassion waved away her mirth until she found her breath. “Assuming this isn’t some elaborate ploy I’d like to introduce myself. I am Compassion, at your service. “

“I appreciate the aid Compassion. Why do you think I’m ‘me’ and not some notion that washed up on your doorstep.” Fear slowly drained into the pit that was Two’s heart. Lethargy, pain and gnawing unease remained. Something foul on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t tell what caused the shift.

How could I not?! I am always with you. Every time you consider another’s heart, the thought behind taste. I am there. I am with you as you parse pains and weave lies of expression and word. I’m there. Reminding you that kindness exists”

“But I rarely listen.”

She hummed and sighed, “You don’t. Not even when I tell you to care for yourself.”

Two opened her mouth. Her scent heaved, thick and heavy like fresh vomit. “You want to help me. You want to make me care?” Two’s voice did not tremble but the flavours oozing from their soul did.

“Two I will not make you do anything, but the others might. Maybe fury will turn us into a raving thing and Rhevier will cut us down with a tsk. Or the wraith outside would’ve torn out all that was good and soft left in us. But you already knew that was a risk.”

Two sat with the thought for a while and said what might’ve been the first guileless thing since she woke. “I didn’t think it’d be so frightening.” In a cadavers voice she continued. “I’’ve killed people for daisy. We’ve pilfered from swollen sloughing bodies in the gutters. People die, I’ve know that all my life, but even if I drift away one night, I thought I’d still be me when I reached the grave. But thats not true.”

The grave was a place play of story song and faith. Priests and old wive said it marked the names and lives of all things to ever die. On nights she loathed remembering Two wondered if that would be the only place to remember her.

“Don’t be sour, all you have to do is win. None can take you away from yourself.”

Two’s eyes hazed with the all consuming terror that had chased her sleep. Like there was a monster breathing down their neck. Ready to eat her should she pay it the slightest mind. “I’d like to believe that but I don’t lie to myself.”

Compassions brow furrowed with worry. “Two what’s wrong.”

Their scent churned, like a breaking damn and sudden flood. Emotion after emotion escaped her in an indecipherable flood. Until suddenly the water ran out, leaving sickly mud and a scared girl.

“I’m tainted.” They whispered. The next moment it was gone. Frailty replaced by a stark calculation. “What do you want for you help compassion.”

The shift struck her like a frigid wind. “I’d like yo to be kinder to yourself.”

They were quiet, their gaze heavy as the weight of her words settled over them. Somewhere far above a god stirred and they could both feel it. Thunder shook the world with silence. Word was forged into covenant.

Sound died compassion saw the sad despserate thing Two had made of herself. “Ok.”

Then it was done and sound returned to the world. Rain rolled out side the room, a soft pressure compared to unfathomable weight.

Compassion struggled for what to say. Something was deeply wrong with Two. They were hurt in a way Compassion felt but couldn’t understand. “I doubt rejection’s gone anywhere. Your welcome to stay until you figure out your next step. I can’t leave but I’m here for any scheme you cook up.”

Compassion hedged a smile and her source returned a perfect grin. Mask firmly in place.

Compassion leaned back into her chair and fought the sick feeling rising in her stomach. She’d gotten all she wanted yet Two seemed worse off. Or maybe her vantage was allowing her to see how bad she’d always been.

“You have something you want to say.” They stared down into their half empty cup. Every part of them twisted into the appearance of quiet recovery.

Compassion did, but that things had gone so far past her expectations. She didn’t know if it would hinder or help. “Its a reminder a painful one.”

“I’m listening.”

Compassion writhed inside, the words dragged themselves into being. “Our sisters, something of them is here. Waiting for you.”

“I know.”