Quillet

Fufillment

         Quillet sat on a log next to the burning fire, belly full of delicious pork bought from the village nearby.  It was so delicious, even more so that he helped cook it himself. His teeth sunk into the warm meat, and the flavor spread across his mouth. Dan sat adjacent to Quillet, already finished with his share. He sat by the fire for a moment longer while he finished his dinner, before jumping into a conversation.
        "You have so many talents, seriously! Cooking, Medical care, What else can you do?" He asked, wiping the grease off his lips. He only partly expected Dan to answer.
        "Well, I know a few martial arts, and even a few weapon techniques," he answered, shrugging as if this was a casual thing for someone to know. He almost dropped his porkchop.
        "No. Way. You have to teach me that!" he shouted. He would have jumped out of his seat if it wasn't for his broken legs. "You really do know everything!" Dan laughed loudly, staying in his seat.
        "What happened to leaving as soon as you recovered?" he grinned, a few loose strands of purplish hair hanging in front of his eyes. "Don't you want me to get out of your hair?" Quillet paused, remembering what he had previously said. He wanted to leave, Dan was a stranger after all. Though, a tiny voice in the back of his head urged him to stay. Dan had taken care of Quillet for almost a month now, so he wasn't a stranger anymore.
        He couldn't tell if he was even a kidnapper. Anyone would want to help such a little kid who was injured so badly... unless you were evil, like those horrible doctors...
        "Well... now that I know you're basically a ninja, that gives me a reason to stay," he said, a hint of laughter hidden in his voice. "I've always wanted to learn to fight, how could I pass up an opportunity like this?" Dan laughed but ultimately understood.
        "Well, when you get better, I'll teach you. You deserve it." he said, smiling at Quillet. "Plus, if it gives you a reason to stay, Might as well." he ruffled Quillet's hair, which threatened to pull the tight stitches in his face.
        "Woah, careful! Don't pull the stitches you worked so hard to sew!" he said, batting at Dan's arm, managing to grab it with his free hand.
        "Those stitches should be coming out soon anyway. That torn skin on your face is healing very nicely. It's going to leave a smaller scar than I thought." his head tilted to the side as he spoke, his hand still on Quillet's head despite his best efforts.
        Finally, it actually felt like he was making progress. All this time Dan had been telling him how well he was healing, but he never managed to understand why. It all seemed like lies to get Quillet to like him. At least, that's what he thought until he remembered the gash across his face. When he fell into that ravine, his face had been torn across the nose and cheek. As soon as he woke up, he didn't even notice it. It was as if it was completely gone from his memory. But of course, it was still there.
        Dan was an impressive man. Frighteningly so.
        "Can... I see?" he asked, looking up at Dan standing above him. He hesitated, taking his hand off Quillet's head and stepping back. "I want to know what my face looks like." it wasn't until now that he realized he hadn't seen himself since long before the fall. He wondered if he looked like a different person.
        "Well, having any scars might displease you. Especially one so large across your face." Dan said, crossing his arms and diverting his eyes. A small stone dropped into Quillet's heart. I guess I forgot about the scarring....
        "Well, I still want to see. I'll have to find out eventually, right?" he said, his hands shaking slightly. He hadn't shaken this way in a while. The last time he could think of was in the forest before he fell... which he didn't want to remember. At least there was a reason to shake then. He couldn't manage to think of one now.
Dan hesitated for a second longer, his hand gently tugging the fabric on his adjacent arm.
        "I guess it is your body we're talking about here." he finally decided, swiftly walking into his own tent, rummaging for a mirror within his belongings. He was searching for a small box that appeared to carry all of his things. He didn't have much, now that Quillet noticed. A few sets of clothing, some cruddy metal tools, medical supplies, and a sword. A whole sword! Quillet wanted to jump out of his seat and confront Dan about it, but instead, he shouted.
        "Dan! Is that a sword? Can I see? You said you would teach me to fight, you have to show me!!" he yelled from the log he was sitting on, basking in the warm light drifting from the campfire. Dan ignored him, continuing to sift through his stuff as he searched.
        He almost thought he was seeing things until he noticed the metal around the hilt reflecting the warm light from the dancing fire next to him. It was most definitely there, and most definitely a sword.
        "I don't know what you're talking about Quillet. I don't have a sword," he said, putting a piece of fabric over the smooth hilt half-hazard. Come on, that wasn't even subtle!
        "Come on, I totally saw you hide that!" Quillet complained. Dan suddenly stood up, mirror in hand. God damn it, he'll never admit to it now. I'll have to sneak a peek at it when he's not looking...
        "Ah, here we are. Are you still sure about this?" he said, ignoring Quillet's confrontation about the most definitely, very real sword in the box. Quillet huffed in annoyance, nodding his head. Slowly, Dan handed the small mirror to him, his hand hovering in the air for a second before it returned to his side. Quillet turned the mirror until he could see himself in the smudged reflection.
        He brushed his hand against the fragile stitches that were holding his face together. They twisted around a cut that spread from just below his left eyebrow all the way over to his right cheek. The stitches were a rough addition to his normally soft skin. His fingers bumped against the healing tissue as he marveled over what he saw. It wasn't him.
        The wound wasn't the only thing different about his face. He looked tired, rugged like he had forgotten about himself. His hair was messy and tangled, and his eyes sunken down in his skull. He didn't look like himself anymore.
        "Quillet, it's not as bad as you think, plenty of people have scars!" Dan said, trying to comfort him. He didn't even notice the warm tear sliding down his cheek. He didn't feel sad, but he felt... disappointed. He understood what adults meant when they say that now. He didn't know how else to describe it. When he saw himself in the mirror, it felt like he had almost lost a part of his identity. But it's still me, right? I just look different, that's all.
        "No no, it's okay, really," Quillet spoke suddenly, handing the mirror back to Dan. "I think it's cool! How many kids have a huge scar across their face?" he laughed uncomfortably, attempting to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, his own decaying face popped back up in his mind. What happened to me?
        "I... feel different. It's not just the scar, I don't look like myself." Quillet chimed as Dan was putting the mirror back into the box with his belongings.  "I don't know what happened." his hand flew back up to his face, feeling what felt like an alien planet.
        Dan walked back over to Quillet, crouching down next to him and putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
        "That's just what happens. You're weak, you haven't even walked in nearly a month. Let alone your eating habits." he looked briefly at the campfire that was still eagerly burning in the center of the clearing. "But trust me, the better you get, the better you'll look. I promise." Dan stood up and walked back to his tent, grabbing a bucket before smothering the burning embers with dirty water.
        "It's getting late. We should head to bed, don't you think?" he said, offering an arm to help Quillet move. He nodded, grabbing it and limping across the clearing and into his tent. "Sorry to end this conversation so abruptly, but I'm sure you wouldn't want to keep talking about your injuries anyway."
        "No, don't worry, it's okay. It just... caught me off guard that's all." He insisted. Dan looked slightly sad, slowing his pace a little. Quillet didn't think much of it. In his mind, Dan was just worried about a little kid being insecure.
        "Hey, it's okay, I have scars too!" Dan mentioned, shifting his hair away from his left eye, where a skinny but long scar layover. There was also a shorter scar across his nose, kind of like Quillet's, just less severe.
His feelings towards Dan had shifted, despite his strong wishes to leave. Those weren't nearly as strong anymore. In fact, a large part of him actually liked Dan. Maybe he can help me more than I thought.
As he crawled into his cot that night, something felt like it had changed. For the first time in a week, he was able to sleep without issue, feeling like he could sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Maybe nights would be like this more often. He wondered what had changed at all since nothing seemed to be particularly good. Unless you count the fact that he was around a much better person than before, of course. Or that he wasn't dead or starving... okay maybe his life was better now, even if most of his bones are broken.
        Maybe Dan was right. His mental health really is important. Without mental stability, your body can't heal, and if your body can't heal, then you die. Ha, is it possible Dan actually knows what he's talking about? No way that's true, even if he does have a lot of talents.
        Quillet was still confused as to why Dan knew all these things in the first place. He always dodged the question, especially when Quillet asked what his job was. Plus, if it was his job before there's no way it is now since he's been helping some random kid at a campsite for almost a month now. He could have been here for even longer before Quillet came along.
        What the hell was he doing out here?
        God, another question. Quillet was tired of being so damn curious. All these questions that he so desperately needed answers to. It was tiring.
        His real name isn't even Dan... who is this guy? Some spy? But what would that have to do with me?! It seemed that every connection he managed to make involving Dan was torched and burned because none of it ever made sense. Even more so, it's so hard to tell what's true and what's a lie. Maybe he's doing that on purpose. After all, I really don't know shit about this guy. God, that just makes it all worse. One of the only people I can actually trust, and I'm already second-guessing myself.
        It honestly felt like this cycle of endless questions would never end. Every time he got an answer, it would only result in even more questions popping up. Rather cliche, isn't it?
        Whatever. The answers to these questions weren't going to come any time soon, especially if Quillet kept bugging him about it. Hell, they might never come. For the time being, he forced himself to think about something else until he was able to finally drift into sleep.
        Even feeling unfulfilled was better than torturing himself over so many unanswered wonderings.