The Tale of The Thief and The Blind
There is an old Ivratian story, often recalled in the foggy days of Autumn, called The Thief and the Blind. It’s a tale as old and hazy as the mists that inspire it—the details changing with every retelling, save for the name and the core of the story: two enemies caught in an eternal chase.
A cautionary tale about accepting gifts from strangers
Author's Notes
Word Count: 554
word count (5) + milestone (2) + world-specific (1) + familiar (1) + character development (2) + atmosphere (2) + dialogue (2) = 15 x 2 for prompt response = 30
Total: 30 gold
Overall Reward: +1 Power and an Elemental Blast Scroll
Prompt 3: Conclusion
Either one is absolutely horrifying—what does your character do?
Kivo chases after the two strangers, to try and help or hinder either of them
The choice was made. The decision was set in stone. Both the Thief and the Blind had given Kivo their offers and their warnings of acceptance. Now, it was time to reap the consequences of those actions.
Within seconds of the second stranger disappearing into the mist, the rest of Kivo's face began to melt. Not only was the skin stripping away but muscle, too. Chunks of flesh fell from his skull, dropping to the floor like a bag of apples that had been ripped open carelessly. The pain was unbearable, Kivo screaming out in agony, wishing for it to put him out of his misery. Was this what death felt like? It weakened him to his knees as he crumbled. With nothing to hold it in place, his mask slipped off too, crashing down to the ground with a metallic thud. All that was left from his poll to the wispy whiskers that had once sat on his roman nose was the underlying skull, picked clean of every last morsal, bar his striking red eyes. Was this to last forever? He dropped the blessing of bones to the floor, which clattered down to Earth to rest alongside his facial features. He stared at them as they continued to rot. There wasn't much Kivo regretted in his life but, perhaps, this would be one of those times.
Onyx looked shocked, staring at the skull of his pitiful master before his eyes wandered down to the disintegrating lumps of meat that littered the floor. The pain was quick to subside but it left Kivo a shattered man. I suppose, the blessing was that I got to keep my life, he thought. With the pain now gone, anger quickly filled its space. How dare they think they could do this to him?
"Bring my armour."
Without a second thought, he arose and set off at a gallop after them. The mist was clearing now, benefitting Kivo's advances. They had a head start but Kivo was quick on his feet, especially when a wrong needed to be righted. They weren't going to be allowed to get away with this. He turned this way and that way, charging down every pathway he believed they had taken but it was difficult to know as there were no hoofprints to follow. Without a trail, he was running blind once again. This didn't deter him and he was determined to enact his revenge. So, onwards he went, his trusted familiar following behind with his fallen mask. Should this disfigurement be permanent, he was going to need that redesigned. The second stranger had muttered something about the transformation being temporary but there was no trust to lay those foundations upon. He truly believed he was going to be stuck like this forever, his beautiful face lost for the rest of his eternity.
For hours, he galloped around in circles, attempting every avenue of escape. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack - an impossible find. Despite his impressive stature and fitness, he began to tire. They were gone. He had to accept that. Beneath his breath, he cursed the patrons for their trickery. He cursed his greed for taking on what he couldn't handle. Perhaps, this was to be a learning curve...but we've heard those precious words spoken before.