Enucleation

He continued down the arching cobblestone hall. With uncertainty about his destination, he glanced into each doorway he passed. Most were empty rooms, some with bare beds. But he could sense that they all were filled with memories of the past, waiting to be discovered once more. The castle was familiar to navigate for the man. He walked through the halls with blind confidence. He knew not what his destination was, but he knew how to get there.

Coming upon a winding staircase, he knew he was beneath the castle tower. Below his bare feet he could feel the cold and damp stairs as he climbed the tower. He neared the top, his final destination. He could sense it.

A large wooden door with a grille at head level barred his entry from the room at the top. As he approached the door he could hear, and sense, movement on the other side. He peered through the grille and a dark cloaked figure approached.

They spoke without speaking. The man was clearly apprehensive of the cloaked being, but knew better than to fear him. Speechless words having been exchanged, the cloaked figure seemed satisfied, and the door glided open. He glanced inside, realizing that the room was pitch black. It didn't matter though. His eyes were gouged out anyways.

The cloaked figure had retreated to the ends of the room. He was preparing the room for the man, placing mirrors on the walls of the circular room. By the time he was done, they were surrounded by shadowy figures of themselves. Darkness was soon remedied by candlelight. The cloaked figure approached the man once more. With his scaly hands, he grabbed the man and guided him towards a chair in the center of the room. Sitting him down, he placed an eye in each of the man's hands.

The man was ready. He knew he had to face himself once more. One final time. He covered his face with his hands and bled a final tear before he slid his eyes back in. The cloaked figure spun the man's chair around before hastily leaving the room, locking the door behind him.

Cries and screams echoed throughout the castle. The cloaked man watched through the grille and saw the man break all the mirrors and rip his eyes out again once more. But even the image of himself in his mind was too much for him to bear. He dropped unconscious.

The cloaked figure let himself back into the room. Going over to the unconscious man, he picked him up and he carried the man through the castle all the way to the bedroom. With almost a maternal warmth, he placed the man on the bed. Dim contentedness filled the castle once more.

Feeling his presence no longer needed, the cloaked figure phased off of that plane of existence. That reality was inundated with false peace. True peace could never fall on that land again. It had been tainted by a curse bestowed upon it by its very creator.

Be sure of your actions, wanderer.