The Search For His Compassion
Singapore International School, Alex Yu, Fiction: Group 2
T
here was once a man, named Bataar, who was an archer, which lived in the outskirts of
Govi-Altai. He was a handsome man and was adored and fawned over by many. Bataar
was the most skilled archer in his generation, and rumored to be the best archer the
country had ever seen. Finally, as Bataar grew older, he took on a wife, who bore him 4
beautiful and healthy children.
But, even as he aged, his archery abilities kept growing stronger, and he shot animal after
animal down without hesitation. As the number of animal skins piled up in their house, Odval,
his wife started to worry about him, and why he had no compassion for the animals, or anyone
else for that matter. So that night, she asked him “ Bataar, my dear, how is it that you are so
heroic and skillful that you feel no sorrow for the animals you shoot down?” Cautious flattery was
draped over her words like a translucent cloth.
“Yes… how do I do it? Such bravery that I have; but is this skill of mine good or bad? Is it
better to fight ruthlessly without feeling sorrow for the ones I kill at times of war, or is it better to
care for my loved ones and to feel empathy and compassion for others?” Bataar murmured slowly
to himself, tilting his head to the right curiously.
That night, he paced around his room restlessly. “Why can’t I feel compassion for others? Am
I really heartless and ruthless, just as the animals in the forest probably know me as?” He thought
for a while, “ I will travel to the Gobi Desert and take a break from hunting for a period of time.”
he decided determinedly. He leaped up in a surge of excitement, throwing his possessions into a
bag, and with an afterthought, his bow and arrows too. Just in case. And at the crack of dawn,
he left, with a short, hastily written letter addressed to Odval and his children strewn carelessly
across the dining table.
It was not until 2 days later till he reached the Gobi Desert. The intense heat struck him first;
the mirage seemed to play tricks on his eyes and his mind, the sand dunes in the distance seemed
to sway, waltzing with the merry song of underground bug chirps. Bataar tried to drag every
piece of information he had about the desert he had to the surface of his mind. He hazily recalled
the story his mother had told him, about the spirit of Gobi Desert.
Legend says that if you manage to wake up the spirit of Gobi Desert, it will answer one
question that you yearn to know the answer to. Bataar thought for a while, then his eyes lit up. He
took out his bow and arrow, then slotted an arrow into it and aimed, released it and let the arrow
fly. The arrow flew straight and true and buried itself into a small jerboa mouse nearby. He then
shot another arrow, which lodged itself into a Gold Eagle, which came sailing down from the sky.
“I don’t think even the spirit will overlook two of its animals being shot down.” Bataar thought,
swinging the bow and arrows over his shoulder.
“Spirit! Show yourself! Reply to my summons! Or do I need to prepare another arrow, just for
you to wake up?” He yelled boldly, his words resounding across the dunes.
Suddenly, the sand in front of him started swirling up, until it was just a yellow blur, and
then, all the sand tumbled down and a young man stood in front of Bataar. “I am the Spirit of
Gobi Desert. Why do you summon me?” he bellowed, his eyebrows curving in to touch each other.
“I want to know why I cannot feel compassion.” Bataar said bluntly. The spirit sighed and
