The Thief & The Blind: A Cruel Twist
Ramman meets with strangers in the woods and is offered dubious gifts. He accepts one, and a cruel twist of fate befalls him.
Author's Notes
Author's Notes
Gold count, Kytte
Word Count: (261+129=390) 3 Gold
World-Specific: 1
Character Arc Bonus: 1
Backstory Bonus: 1
B8: Show us a time your character has had to deal with the effects of magic. 5
Total: 11 x 2 = 22 Gold
The Blind
Ramman had accepted the bones.
He was a stranger fellow – and in the recent months had taken many risks. It was an act of rebellion against a past self, the one who had lived back at the farm. And now, as Ramman held the bones in his hands, a second strange appeared through the mists offering a similar promise.
The stranger outstretched their hand and offered a young ivy plant, as If it had just been ripped from the earth.
Looking down at the strange bones, pondering their sinister ambiguity, he looked back to the strange figure; their mask plain and a single tear dripping from its eye.
“No.” He replied plainly and stood firm, his wings flared against his back in threat. The stranger did not flinch, and simply slipped into the mists.
(WC 129)
Conclusion.
Ramman sighed a moment, looking around the mists; a strange feeling once again curled in his stomach, and he thought it wise to flee. With no clear sight of the canopy, he continued to walk. Yet he still held the bones. Should toss those away, Ramman thought.
But it was too late for that.
The heaviness became overwhelming to him, and as he looked down to his body to see what was happening, the curse had already taken hold. It was the feathers that first went – one after another the brilliant jewels fell from their sockets and gentle drifted to the ground.
His wings burned, the tendons ached and no longer it seemed he was able to hold them. Skin disintegrated and tendon and blood peeled away until all that was left were two bony-black wings. No doubt somewhere in the mists, fortune curled its maw.
“I give, I also take, boy. You do well to remember this”
The voice faded away in a chuckle and Ramman was overcome with shock and rage. He tried to race after the strangers that had done this but they were already gone so instead he continued, finding a way out of the strange mists. He had found himself back at Mead and he warned all passersby of the strangers in the mist.
“What mists lad?” One of the shop-keep's remarked. Ramman could have sworn for but a moment he saw the man's face curl with the coloured grin of fortune.
Alas, it was only temporary, but the cruel irony did not hurt any less.
(WC 261)