Chronicles of a Lost Heart

Kudos to who can guess the character

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        I was always alone. Even now, I still am. Alone is something that never truely happens, as well as something that may never stop. I brush my hair back, wincing as it sticks to the claw wound on my cheek.

 

        Funny how being alone makes you do odd things. The fight was short, it actually ended an hour or two ago. What protects me, isn't me. I've never been a strong person. My whole life has been lived in fear and cowardence.

 

        What keeps me from harm, is simply another being I'm tied to. Our existance merged that night, neither of us willing to fade. Neither of us willing to coexist, nor knowing how. It is a unique experience being insane. Not knowing up from down, man from beast.

 

        I lost it, and vowed never again. Putting people at his mercy was cruel. Oddly satisfying, but wrong just the same. I didn't know it at the time, that much I'll admit.

 

        A small chittering sound reached my ears, disrupting my meditation. I opened my eyes and looked on, past the distant horizon. There was nothing here, and I knew that. Nothing and yet I stayed past what I believed would be just training.

 

        What a joke. Honouring the dead was an old tradition, long ago forgotten. Knowing me, that was most likely the only reason I did it. To not forget. Remembering wasn't very important, as long as it was still there.

 

        Some things, though deeply connected are very different. A man wielding a sword is not metal, nor is it feeling of him. I stand, if only to prove that I have the ability to move. It's a scary thought, being left alone to your own devices whilst hoping desperately for someone – anyone – to help.

        

        The glare of the sun forces me to recoil. I never understood the fascination with a ball of light. All it ever did was go from one side to the other. It probably never had to fight for it's right to exist.

 

        It never had to kill it's own food; that is, if it ate. My head falls forward and I shake the hair from my eyes. It was rediculous, something that never ate going as far as this thing did. Unless it was magic. Those magicians had too much time on their hands.

 

        I turned to glare at the small fuzzball that was currently attempting to enter my pack. My eyes softened as I took pity on it. For all I knew, it could be trying to sabatoge me. My legs seemed to move on their own as I made my way to the small creature.

 

        I reached up a pale hand to offer it entrance into my bag. If it had a family, they wouldn't be around here. Way too baren to support what it had been. I suppose that was why I had this sudden desire to care for it.

 

        It was cute, but somehow seemed deeper than that. As the leather started to lift from the dirt it scammered out and over to a dead body. My eyes felt blurry and unfocused. I roughly wiped them, silently demanding they not betray me. Even though the only living thing near me was a small, innocent...thing?

 

        I hadn't gotten a good look at it, so I figured it was a rat or a small rodent. For all I saw, it could be a miniture chicken. To me, things like that didn't matter. I doubt they ever would. No matter what I did, I could not help but lament what I had ended, as well as what I was about to do.

 

        “Come here, I'll care for you until I find someone who can,” the words sounded broken and cracked coming from my dry throat. Despite that, I felt they meant more than anything else I've ever spoken.

 

        No matter how small it was, there are some things that can't be broken. I smiled as it crawled back over to the opening in my bag. No, there wasn't anything I'd ever trade in to be protected wholeheartedly as this fuzzball was.

 

        Maybe, I mused, I could have that one day. It would have to wait. At the moment though, I had something to protect. I began my long walk to nowhere, speaking to myself mostly and laughing when the animal chimed in.

 

        Odd as it sounds, it was my first friendship. I didn't know it would be the purest, but I valued it above all else. Sadly, all good things come to an end.

 

        Protecting something is hard to hide. Humans are a cruel bunch, they take everything and then some. I find they are without control trying to draw lines between right and wrong, blurring reality in general.

 

        Bandits, hatred for them runs through my veins. They took my first friend. Mind you, they didn't know they had done it until it was done. There is a tiny cross set up on that path. I know many people must have wondered what had happened for a few passing moments.

 

        Only I would have known it was a grave for a friend, dug and filled in with care, while the corpses were left to rot. Then again, I may have been the only one insane enough to do such a thing.

Author's Note

Please ignore spelling errors, that part of my writing program is broken, thanks.