There's Nothing to See (7)

I'm tired of being treated like a beast. Like a monster. I had seen how actually beasts were like, how they could massacre an entire village in the blink of an eye. They could slice up your body without warning, or gouge out your eyes to be spiteful.

That is what a beast was. And just because my eyes couldn't be healed, because they were stuck looking like this, that made me equivalent to one of them.

I didn't have the words nor the emotions to describe how that made me feel.

Though even if I was treated normally, where would that get me? I pulled out one of the remaining masks from my bag. Although they all had the same texture, the same make, each was a different color. And yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't discern what they were, how it differed. I only knew once someone else said so. Maybe if I was able to enhance my sense to levels beyond an ordinary bat, I could make out some minute difference, but that didn't mean I knew what color it was. It didn't matter how close I got to normalcy, it would always be just out of reach.

That's what it meant to be blind.

Back when I was a kid, I cried over that for countless seasons. I begged for any kind of companionship, for someone to not leave me alone.

But five years had passed since then. Sadness, fear, and happiness were luxuries for those with someone to rely on. Otherwise, they were just a hinderance that could get you killed. I had to suppress those feelings to survive, from my time as a slave to my journey southward.

At times like these, I just wanted to give up.

I wanted to end it all.

And yet, at the same time, I didn't want to die, just be left alone.

Was that too much to ask?

Well, I doubted life would ever be so kind.

"So, what do you want?" Even with the occasional breeze, I could notice when the tree trunks grew a size too large.

Including the one I was laying against. I was rather surprised. There were no sounds of footsteps, and there presence stayed hidden until the wind picked up. They were clearly quite skilled, even more so than those four bandits.

The person in question stepped out from behind the tree, likely facing towards me. My hand tensed around the sheathed blade, ready to defend against any attack. However...

"Such a cruel fate you have." I recognized her voice. Yes, that mid-ranged pitch and short tone...

"Adeline." The girl I saved. However, unlike before, her words rang eloquently, each syllable emphasizing the owner's power. A noble of some kind, perhaps.

"Do you agree?" she continued.

I do, but I'm not going to admit it. There was a difference between acknowledgement and admission, even if her words struck a cord within me.

She continued. "How could those people disparage you for helping out someone else? For saving a child? You were like a hero, and they treated you like dirt. It's utterly despicable." She spun the tale of our meeting like a preamble to an epic, her words a mix of truths and falsities. And yet, I felt no need to correct her. Rather, they were reassuring, odd as it might be. Still...

"What about it?" I couldn't help but be passive aggressive about it. She clearly had some other intention for being--.

"Don't you want to be free?"

My heart leaped.

"Don't you want to be left alone? To stand proudly against all those who wanted to tear you down? You don't deserve such horrible treatment for things you didn't do. For things you would have never done. You can just be yourself, without having to worry about anything else."

It was a clear mix of contradictions. A cold reading to try and resonate with everything buried deep within. A play put on to seduce me.

And it was working.

"Words are just words." Still, I resisted. I was no fool. They were the same honeyed phrases fed into my ear when I was a slave, from the people who could be kind one moment and violent the next.

"You're right. My words are just words. But you were the one who reached out to me. You were the one who saved me. So now, I want to do the same for you, however I can, no matter what your goal may be."

She can't be telling the truth. She has to be lying, I told myself over and over. If you give up here, will you really achieve what you're looking for?

However, my head didn't want to think anymore. My heart wanted to hold onto this thin thread of solace. The years had worn me down to the bones, the vultures tearing off whatever's left.

If someone can ease my burden...

If someone can take away my pain...

If someone can help me...

Those thoughts filled my mind, as if my entire life and misfortune had led to this moment.

"So, won't you please join me?" She reached out her hand, her head obscuring the heat of the setting sun. The cool breeze blew rapidly as the faint scent of lavender tickled my nose. The rustling leaves chorused in unison, turning the scene into a beautiful painting I could feel.

I understood what taking that hand would do.

She would become an infatuation.

A dependence.

An obsession.

She would throw me into a world probably much more harsh than my own.

But for a person like me, a woman who had lost everything, that was more then enough.

For her, I'd even become a hero.

"It doesn't matter whether you're a beast."

And just like that, the glass shattered.