One-eye

One-eye is an eloquent but bitter old serpent who has been isolated for, in his opinion, far too long. After years upon years of residence in the deep jungle of Edenna, his fellow serpentine seraphim have come to regard him as somewhat of a leader of the community. Those who need healing, shelter, or even simply advice will know to turn to him in their time of need. Though he lives every day in agony both mental and physical, the mysterious old man somehow manages to get by (mostly upon the goodwill of his fellow fallen). His fight has long since withered away, leaving him resigned to his fate as an isolated outcast.

---

"I'm not a good person, Rhea," the old man said, weakly. His back was still turned to her, those glorious, ragged wings all laid out behind him. He wobbled on his cane. "The things I've done- the innocent lives I've helped to condemn- they're things for which there will never be forgiveness. For which there can never be forgiveness."
"And neither am I," she replied, plainly. "You forget what I was. What I *am*. The things I've done."
He turned around, his single eye staring sorrowfully into hers. "You were a scared child. You killed to survive."
"And then I killed, and killed, and killed some more. Some of them were cruel, or too drunk on power for their own good, but just as many were kind and innocent." She dropped her gaze from his, next words bitter on her forked serpent tongue. "I didn't kill to survive, doctor. I killed whoever got in my way."

"...he still remembers me?" He asked, voice thick and achingly gentle. Single eye glimmering like a beacon amongst the gloom, he turned to look at her. Mist swirled throughout his gaze as he took one fragile, raspy breath, mind somewhere far, far away. In that moment, there beneath the stars, she could see a ghost of who the Doctor once had been; proud, and eager, and desperate to break every barrier set before him.