Eyes of Azyron

Chapter One

I can no longer see the fires that burned me, that turned me into what I am, but I can still feel their heat in my thin skin as it burns away in a flash, the flesh melting from my bones, reducing me to nothing but ash. At least, that is what the searing pain tells me has surely occurred when it racks my body into fitful spasms. It is all encompassing, and I know nothing else; whether the sun tracks across its zenith, or the full moon rises are incomprehensible to me in the state I exist in now.

And yet, I lay here breathing, impossibly alive. A small eternity drags its heavy body on by, and as it goes, the pain begins to fade with it. My lungs still shudder from the smoke and fire within them, but now it is no longer like I have swallowed a hot fire poker for the sheer pleasure of it. My ears can hear the shuffling of feet, and a kind hand reaches out towards me, touching a cup of water gently to my lips. I can hear my skin crackle and slough. Movement brings forth sharp shards of new pain, and I collapse back, nearly losing my new-found consciousness. I was only just able to swallow a small sip, but now I'm painfully aware of exactly how thirsty I am. I open my mouth to ask for more, but only a small croaking moan escapes. I hear the shifting of cloth as a person presses close by me.

"Now, now miss. Don't overdo it just yet. What is it?" I feel her lean in close, and catch the faint scent of her perfume, floral and sweet. I cling to it, desperate for the touch of softness, for anything that could ease my pain.

"Wah-" I manage to begin, but my voice falters, so I try again. "Wah..ter." The word escapes my mouth, crackling like dry paper.

She again presses the cup to my lips. This time, I am able to drink more, but she takes it away before I can drain the cup entirely. I sink back into the soft pillow behind my head, and nod. "Good." I mumble.

I listen to her move around the room for some time. I listen to the clinking of glass cups and metal instruments, the sound of a chair gently scraping against wood, and the soft sigh as her skirts brush across the floor. It is then that I realize I must be blindfolded because I haven't seen a single thing since I woke up. I slowly reach toward my face to remove whatever is holding my eyes shut. My caretaker again jumps to her feet to stop me.

"Oh, miss you mustn't. Your face is very badly burned. I would hate for you to wound yourself further. Now please, there you go, just rest your hands down here, then." She mutters more pleasantries, her voice low and soothing. But I would very badly like to be able to see.

"My... my eyes." My voice isn't very audible, but I know she hears me. Her breath hitches, as if she isn't quite sure how to respond. "I...can't see."

"I know, miss. It's a terrible thing. But you're young, I'm sure you will get used to it in time."

I'm not sure what she means. Was I burned so badly that she cannot uncover my eyes? A knock resounds on the door then. My bedside nurse jumps up from the edge of my bed, and walks over to it swiftly. I hear the heavy stomp of boots, potentially the stride of a man. My suspicions are confirmed when a deep, melodious voice arises from the visitor.

"How is she, Amelia?" He's well spoken, but he has an accent I cannot place. He must be a stranger in this land, and suddenly it occurs to me I have no idea where I am.

"Miraculously, she is still with us. However, with the extent of her burns, I-"

He cuts her off abruptly. "No matter that, Amelia. I have already given her what I could when I found her. She will need a transfusion if she is to survive. I see no other way."

Amelia shuffles nervously. "But, my lord, surely you cannot mean to-"

"I am doing what I must. The Council will understand. Do you have the instruments?" He walks towards my bed, his steps heavy and measured.

"Y-yes, my lord." Amelia hesitates, then shuffles over towards the corner of the room, and I hear the tinkling of glass again. "Would you like to have a seat, my lord?"

I hear the movement of heavy fabric, and what sounds like a large cape thump against the floor. "It would be preferable, yes." The chair creaks as he sits down.

I feel I need to say something, but I can't even begin to think what I would say. Every word and movement strains me, so instead I lay still in silence, enraptured in the hidden world around me.

I hear footsteps and shuffling again, then the soft clink of glass, followed by a soft moan from the man. "Forgive me, my lord." Amelia says softly. He gives her a wordless reply. Silence dominates the room and the minutes tick idly by. It's so quiet, that I would feel I was alone in this room, if I hadn't known better. I'm still in a great amount of pain, and I begin to wonder if it wouldn't be better to just sleep, and let everything drop away.

"Miss? Miss? Oh, please do not go to sleep just yet. There is something we still must do, I am afraid." She gently grasps my arm, but I can't muffle the moan that escapes my lips. Her soft fingers feel like razors cutting into me. Pain blossoms out from my arm, and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming.

"Hold steady, my dear." I feel the man approach me, his weight shifting the bed near my legs. He leans in over me, and presses his hands into my shoulders. This, of course, is painful and I cry out. I didn't know my throat had the strength in it to scream. He leans in closer over me, and the smell of cinnamon and cloves wafts over me. It poses a strange dichotomy as it soothes me even amidst the chaos. "I know it hurts, darling, but it is necessary. I cannot save you any other way." I do my best to hold still, to not make whatever they are trying to do more painful, but I have to admit I am terribly frightened.

There's a sharp pain in the arm Amelia grips, but it is no more painful than her hands themselves. I hold on determinedly, demanding to myself that I stay awake and breathing. Minutes pass on by, and as it does, the pain again begins to leave my body. The sharp, piercing pain of their hands on my body fades into a dull ache, and I begin to cry from relief.

A strange, glowing golden light seems to emanate from somewhere, but I cannot tell where exactly it is coming from. I find this very strange, as with me being blindfolded there should be no way I can see any light, where I could only faintly see it before. It is so bright, however, it feels like I've stepped out into midday sunlight. I feel calm, almost peaceful as the light grows from behind my eyelids. For some silly reason, I get the impression that I am safe, and a little less alone.

I must have fallen asleep not long after they administered whatever medicine they did in order to help me relax. My skin feels dry and itchy, so I reach over and scratch at my arm. I hear someone stir in their sleep, then leave the room abruptly. Soon after, the door opens again and I hear two sets of footsteps, both familiar to me now.

I smell cinnamon again as he nears me, and underneath that, an acrid smell, almost like that of death. It frightens me with a terror I didn't expect. But what am I to be afraid of?

"Well, it seems she is beginning to stir. The transfusion was a success. You did great work here today, Amelia."

"Thank you, my lord. Only...I do have to ask what this will mean for-"

"Don't worry about that now. You have a patient that will need tending to. He pulls back away from me, and with him leaves the terror that was forming a pit in my stomach. "It is a shame about her eyes though. Everyone handles it differently, and it would seem sometimes certain things can be too far gone to save."

"What do you mean?" I utter, surprising everyone, including myself.

"Oh, my dear, I am so terribly sorry. But you've lost your eyesight. I'm afraid you may never regain it." He leans in close this time, and the fear I feel isn't from his presence, but the growing anxiety as his words sink in. I've gone blind?