faderift | Open | If you forget, is it like it never happened?

He doesn't really understand obfuscation; he does understand that mortals don't necessarily believe what he says.

"I can explain what I understand, but Garahel is getting lonely. We should go down there. And yes, a spirit. Mostly a spirit, but not only. I came across to help, and this was the shape that helped, so it's the shape I am."

Okay, Garahel, she gets the point. Glancing in the direction of the barking, Inessa concedes the point. She can give into her curiosity in a moment, when her mabari isn't left out of the loop.

"Yes, he will persist until we do. I'll be down in a moment." Suspecting that the boy will reach Garahel before she does, Inessa nonetheless maintains a brisk pace as she heads down the stairs and out the door. The mabari looks up hopefully, tail wagging as he stands by his beloved ball.

Cole doesn't bother with stairs and he doesn't really like moving through the crush of the tavern unless he's needed.

So he just slips out the window and drops down, landing far too lightly for his size and offering his hand to Garahel. "Hello. Yes, I picked up your ball for you. I'm Cole. She's coming back to you."

Garahel is so excited at meeting a new person that at first he just runs in a circle around Cole before he can calm down enough to offer his paw. Then he closes in to nuzzle all over his new best friend. Fetch is important, but so are pettings, right? Depending how much much he's had to eat, they're even more important than food. (Sometimes. Maybe.)

Arriving by nuzzling time, Inessa stands back a few paces to observe this with a soft chuckle and smile. "Are you familiar with mabari? Garahel is not unique in his demeanor. They tend to be very social and affectionate, sometimes to the point of being overbearing." So she's heard, though she doesn't sound as though she really believes it. "If he's being too much of a pest, let me know. He'll usually listen to me."

Cole doesn't accept the offered paw because shaking hands is completely outside the social norms he's managed to pick up. And when he touches, he knows more and then people get upset.

He lets his hand be sniffed and licked and then rubs over the mabari's snout and up onto the broad head. "I know mabari. Templars like them. Orlesians don't." He keeps looking at Garahel. "He just wants to be friends with everyone. I don't mind that. I just don't know if he'll remember me."

Inessa tilts her head, considering that. "He might? Mabari are as at least as intelligent as most people. He's trained to notice what others overlook."

Garahel rumbles contentment, a bottomless well of happiness and affection even though this new person isn't giving him any treats. He can overlook that, since Cole retrieved the ball. Soon, he backs up long enough to retrieve said ball, pausing before Cole and wagging his tail hopefully.

"Well, someone's bossy. Would you like to join in on a game of fetch? If so, just hold out your hand for the ball. Otherwise, I can take it." At least if his throwing arm sends the ball onto a roof, Cole can easily retrieve it?

"Most people don't remember me. I don't know if you will." Cole doesn't carry treats, not usually. Unless he's planning on doing something specifically.

He finally looks at Inessa, hand resting on Garahel's head. "You have questions you want to ask me. About me. I'll tell you what I can."

He doesn't really understand the point of fetch, but he offers a hand for the ball and then throws it some distance with old muscle memories from muscles that aren't these.

Garahel barks in protest. He will so remember, just watch! When the hand is held out, he drops the ball and wiggles with excitement until it's thrown. Then he's a large blur, dashing off to retrieve it.

Glad to see Garahel appeased but also grateful for a moment to satisfy her own curiosity, Inessa nods. "Every spirit has a purpose; what exactly is yours? Have the rifts not affected you? I was told that spirits were driven mad, being forced over, but they were without bodies. Does yours protect you?"

"I didn't come through a Rift. I've been in this world for longer."

He knows who he is, if not what. "I'm Compassion." Such rare spirits. Considered such weak spirits, but vital for spirit healing. "I was needed on this side, so I came here. Somehow. Most spirits don't. Can't. But I'm different now. From Cole. His memories made it make more sense. Gravity. Time.

"Compassion...that makes sense." Inessa smiles softly, surprised at his presence given the rarity of such spirits, but if there's ever a time where compassion is needed, this would be it. "Wait, there was a another Cole? So, you didn't possess him, merely...copied? Is that the right term?"

Garahel comes running back with his prized ball, all proud of himself. He did good, right? The mabari stands before Cole, tail wagging madly and waiting for him to take the ball from his mouth.

"There was Cole. Hedge mage. Apostate. Young, scared, they hit him and dragged him and threw him in a cell and then they never came back. They forgot. They wanted to forget. He was alone and scared and I came to him. He needed someone. So I came to him. He wanted a him who never had magic. I could do that."

Cole doesn't look at Inessa as he speaks, watching Garahel instead and taking the ball from him as he comes back.

"I stopped being Compassion, but I was helped back."

And he throws the ball again.

Inessa's eyes widen when hearing Cole's -the previous Cole's- ultimate fate, the tint fading from her already pale cheeks. The blur that is Garahel gets her attention for a moment, but only a moment as she tries to find her voice. She's heard stories from rebel mages before, horrifying ones to which she can't relate. Is it better or worse that she's now speaking with a spirit wearing the face of one such victim? She's not sure.

"...that poor young man. He should have been sheltered and trained, not abused. It's unsettling to know that the institution which saved me has also been responsible for condemning others like me. No one should be thrown away and forgotten like that. I'm...I'm glad you were there for him."

Cole doesn't go into Cole's life before then. The blood and death, the burning hut and overgrown garden full of yellow flowers than Bunny loved.

"They took him to White Spire. The Pit. I lived down there until Rhys went to Adamant. I went with him, to protect him from the Templar. Evangeline. Lambert told her to kill them all when they were there, but she didn't and I didn't have to stop her. She didn't because it was wrong."

He hums and sways. "I wanted to do more, but I couldn't. But I can do things now. I can stop people hurting others."

She shudders at mention of the White Spire, as Garahel comes running back towards them. "That's a side of the rebellion I'm glad I did not see. Kinloch Hold has its own reputation, but thank the Maker it was not like that." She's had some peers that transferred there, for one reason or another; how many of them are still alive, if any, she has no clue.

Patting Garahel as he arrives, Inessa looks over to Cole thoughtfully. "If you've had some influence here, then Skyhold owes you a debt. I know tensions can easily arise, for one reason or another." Race versus race, mage versus non-mage, and so on. "What do you think, of our status when we first arrived versus now?"

"Lambert wanted them to be scared, to fear, to cower, it made him feel powerful so see mages suffer." The man's presence had physically hurt, his malice almost tangible to Cole.

He listens, but there's nothing like understanding on his face, not really. "We have more food. And less holes in the walls."

"At least he's gone. I'm certain a lot of mages are relieved about that." Herself included, even as she is now under the protection of the Grey Wardens. The world needs less people like him in charge, especially over the fates of those vulnerable.

She nods at the assessment, unable to deny those bald facts. "Quite true, but I was thinking more in terms of people and their morale. Have you noticed any changes there? Do they still have faith that we can defeat Corypheus?"

Garahel whines softly, muffled by the ball in his mouth. He's only interested in one thing at the moment.

"Not gone. Dead. Sweaty skin under my hand, body shakes with fury under mine. What do you want, demon? I want you to look into my eyes."

He does a good mimicry of Lambert's voice, his accent and tones.

Cole turns to Garahel, the dog's need to attention more pressing than answering the question. He takes the ball and pitches it out into the yard.

"I don't know. Most people aren't going hungry. Aren't in pain. Don't Despair."

That mimicry has Inessa shuddering again, and once more she's very grateful not to have been part of the Spire or anything that happened to it. With such men in charge, they didn't stand a chance. As Garahel happily darts off again, she collects herself and nods.

"That's good. I admit I've been wondering at how long cohesion can be maintained, given the various differences among us. It may not be entirely harmonious, but it's been better than I've anticipated.

Do you think there are other spirits like you? Those who found a way to cross over and help? Would you know them for what they are, if they were around?"

Too many things at once and Cole rubs at his face and twists his fingers together. "I don't know about cohesion. I just know people. What will help them."

He rocks on his feet again, head hanging and hiding his face with the brim of his hat. "Solas said I was unique. I know other spirits when I see them. I knew Justice. We know each other. I know every demon we have to destroy."

Inessa's expression softens, about to apologize for asking too much. She didn't want to overwhelm him, after all. But mention of Justice gets her attention, and she stares at the ground, eyes shadowed.

"...ah, yes. I've heard of Justice, though Anders had been freed of him by the time of my arrival. It's a shame there was no saving him, no peaceful parting. Still, the fact that it could be done at all...it's notable."

"Justice isn't gone. Maybe, that shape of Justice is, but Justice remains. In memories, in emotions, in people. In the Fade."

He rocks on his feet again. "It was best. Here was bad for him."

"Being in Kirkwall couldn't have helped. The Veil is so thin there, I felt it when the Inquisition sent me earlier." Inessa's lips form a thin line, wondering how much worse it was when Meredith was alive and the Gallows was active. No wonder Justice went mad. "So when spirits die...they return, in some sense?"

"No. Kirkwall hurt. Kirkwall makes me ache, when people talk about it, I can feel the net, thin wires, cutting into the soul."

He shrugs. "Solas says... our concept still exists. Justice still exists. That Justice, those memories... they still exist in the Fade. Spirits don't die. Not like mortals."

"Sorry, I won't mention that place again. I'm not fond of it, either." Glad to move on from it, Inessa nods thoughtfully. "Is that reassuring? To know what if something happens to you, that what you are won't be lost? Andrastians are told we will go to the Maker's side, but...." Well, they have no way of verifying that.

"Why would I need reassuring?"

Cole doesn't want to stop being. But he doesn't fear it.

"I don't know what happens when mortals die."

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