Snippet #1972042

Dúlin watched as two men near him were crushed by falling debris a cruel bark escaped his lips A simple truth running through his head; Death finds everyone there is no escape. Was there any point to what he was doing helping this man only prolonged the inevitable. Even with these protests in mind his hands continued their work, hours of training had removed the need to look at a wound more than once after he began to stich it closed.

He finished wrapping the man’s wounds and turned to wash the blood off his hands when he saw an old man crawling weakly towards him. The man reached towards him saying “My... glass eye. It helps the blind... see.” The man reached up to his face and flipped back an eye patch. Inside the socket was a glass eye unlike any he had seen before it looked like an eye but where his eye was white the glass eye was a deep dark blue and where his eye was black this one was purple. The old man took a deep breath and spoke again “It must get back... To the Order... in Kryn. It must…” before the old man finished he took a final weak breath and crashed to the floor in front of Dúlin.

Dúlin stared at the eye the man had said it could help the blind see; he realised with a start it was an artefact of power like in legends. “It’s magic, real magic” He whispered to himself, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years not since his mother had told him of ancient kings and powerful magic a time when hero’s reigned and monsters cowered. He forgot about the storm he forgot about the death of his mother and of his mentor instead he was lost in the old stories he had heard as a child. Filled with a childlike awe that brought tears to his eyes he reached and gently removed the glass eye from the old seer’s eye socket.

Abruptly reality came back to him as he remembered the old man’s last words; the man had said the eye must get back to the Order he assumed the man had meant the Order of Magi for that as the only reasonable answer. The eye disappeared into one of the many pockets that were sown into the lining of Dúlin’s cloak the eye would be his secret for now until he decided what to do with it, it was safer if those who wanted it thought it was lost.

Dúlin sat back looking at the body of the Seer, this man had not used his last breath to beg to any gods or to moan, he had used the last of his strength to fulfil his duty to a higher cause. This sacrifice set the seer above so many other men, but it struck a chord within Dúlin as well. Dúlin’s mentor hadn’t begged or cried as he died instead Dúlin’s mentor had only coughed up blood and complained that he wouldn’t get to help any more people.

Dúlin stared at the body and decided he would return the eye in honour of the seer.
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After the storm

After the storm had left Dúlin moved into the wreckage of the city he began to find and help survivors but more often than not he would have to quietly end a life that was beyond saving. He didn’t help because he cared about their lives but simple because he was playing the part of the doctor and he was expected to help or it would arouse suspicion. As he stitched a child’s leg up he thought about his promise to return the eye. He would not leave right away on the journey, he needed to get ready and he needed the money his job would get him. The thought of more death in this city elicited no response in him he was killer it was life.

He moved to a body that was impaled on a broken wooden beam as he approached the body moaned he knelt beside it, only then did he notice it was a woman and she wasn’t human she was an Elf. He called softly in elvish “Hello lady of the east” his elvish was rusty since he hadn’t used it in years but he still remembered how to speak the language. Her eyes opened and she looked into his dark eyes, she saw the truth there, she was dying but she didn’t cry instead she opened her mouth to speak “Please release me to my gods”.

Dúlin nodded to her; gently he closed her eyes and lifted her head up as he whispered an elvish prayer into her ear he slipped out a knife and slipped it up into her head kill her instantly and painlessly. He gently placed her down and whispered his own blessing “Greet Death as an old friend for he knows you and will take care of you.” The blessing was one his mother had taught to before she had died. He turned away from her when he suddenly heard a call for any available citizens to head to the lords manor.

He picked up the elvish lady’s sword it was good steel better than his own and he felt that soon he would have need of it.