Cyril looked towards Varce with irritation. 'Of all the people it had to be this bastard!' Cyril suddenly realized he was grimacing. He hurriedly fixed his face to the aloof expression he was known for, but Varce had seen it clearly.
He watched Cyril amusedly. He hadn't seen his fiancée for some time before the breakfast meeting. He had been dismayed to see that Cyril was even colder than he remembered. He was beginning to think that maybe the kid didn't have emotions at all as Cyril's reputation said. But now his perpetually-serious fiancee showed expression in front of him for the first time he could remember. Varce was intrigued.
"Hello, Little Cyril. Happy to see me?"
Cyril was the picture of sophisticated grace as he rose to his feet. His face was unmoved as he lightly dusted his immaculate robes where he stood.
"I can't see you. I'm blind."
Varce nearly choked. Was that... a joke? Was the sky falling? Was the sun rising from the West? Who was this person with Cyril's face that made blind jokes?
Varce collected himself quickly as his curiosity begged to know what else Cyril could surprise him with. What's next? A smile?
"I know you can 'see' me just fine, Cyril. Don't you have anything else to say to me?" He probed for a reaction.
Cyril's face was unreadable.
"Hello… Varce."
Varce's smile widened at Cyril using his name without prompting, even as he wanted to laugh at the serious boy in front of him. He was his fiancee, but Cyril was after all, still just a child as far as dragons were concerned. Varce had not had his coming of age ceremony either, but it was only a year away now. Cyril on the other hand, reminded him of a half-grown kid with the air of an old man. Cyril really spent too much time with that ancient godfather of his. Arvel's aura was infecting the kid. He should get out more. No, never mind, too many eyes would be drawn to his little fiancee. Varce's inner dialogue tugged between shielding his beautiful fiancée from dirty, prying eyes and not marrying Arvel 2.0 in the future. He almost shivered imagining it.
"I have other matters to attend to. If you will excuse me… Varce."
Cyril walked toward the garden's exit with his hands clasped behind his back. Perhaps his earlier conversation with his Master had snapped something in Cyril. Cyril was acting outside of expectations, including his own as he threw away his patience for dealing with the young man in front of him. It was definitely better to leave before he said something regrettable and irked Varce's nasty temper.
Varce's attention was brought back to the present as Cyril moved away. There were people who would need to be taught hard lessons not to even think about looking at his future mate. But that was for later. For now, Varce just wanted to enjoy seeing what this new and unpredictable Cyril would do next.
Varce had noticed the deeply tinted glasses while watching over Cyril as he cultivated. He hadn't seen him wearing them before, he was sure of it.
"Why the glasses?"
Cyril stopped short. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not Varce. However, Varce held one of the highest positions in the sect. More importantly, he was special to Master Arvel. What his Master saw in the brute, Cyril did not know. Was it just sentimentality for his old friend? Arvel and the Older Draek had been inseparable. Was Master's insistence on the marriage because of that?
"They help me see," Cyril replied with a straight face, deciding to give a reply to the sect master however half-hearted it may be.
Now Varce was stumped. Did they really help him see? His godfather had explained what Cyril had told him about how he saw things, but Varce didn't fully understand it all. To be fair, even Arvel didn't really understand how Cyril did it. Were these glasses specially forged? He would remember Arvel talking about an important item like that. He also had sharp eyes and even though he didn't approach Cyril closely, he was close enough to tell whether they contained inscriptions or not. An item that supported Cyril's senses would have inscriptions, but he saw none on the glasses.
Cyril almost wanted to laugh as he sensed the confusion from Varce. He could even sense the parade of weird expressions Varce was making as he tried to figure out if Cyril was telling the truth or not. Teasing Varce was surprisingly amusing when he wasn't acting crazy.
"You… Don't use glasses to see." Varce was sure of it. He would definitely remember if Cyril used a support item like that. Varce's eyes narrowed as he watched Cyril more closely. Cyril had made a joke- and lied to him. He couldn't tell if he was excited about Cyril's expressiveness or angry for Cyril trying to make him out to be a fool.
Cyril's face almost twitched- almost. Varce wasn't turning into a raging dragon though, so that was something.
"They hide my eyes." He finally replied honestly.
"Why?" Varce was shocked. He remembered Cyril's eyes. They were beautiful. His phoenix-shaped eyes were framed with long dark eyelashes. Varce thought they were mesmerizing. He had even been a bit irritated that he couldn't watch those pretty eyes earlier, though he wouldn't admit that part to Cyril. The glasses obstructed his view now as well.
"Your eyes are beautiful. Were your eyes always that color?" He wouldn't admit he wanted to watch them earlier, but he was more than happy to compliment them. Varce was also curious about their unusual color. His curiosity got the best of him as he asked the insensitive question and immediately regretted it. He knew Cyril hadn't always been blind so he had wondered if they were naturally that color?
Cyril tilted his head slightly. Did this idiot think he knew what his eyes looked like?
"I mean- can you remember colors?" Varce tried again, realizing what Cyril was thinking. He had already asked the question anyway. Cyril wasn't angry, so that was good.
Cyril was quiet for a moment. "I remember some, yes."
"Do you remember pink? It's like, light red, I guess? Your eyes are pink."
Cyril tried to recall memories with colors. "It's like red?"
Varce nodded his head. He already knew Cyril could sense his movements perfectly, so it didn't matter if he nodded. Actually, if Arvel was telling the truth last time he came bragging about Cyril to the other elders, Cyril might be more sensitive to movement than Varce was. This was even more impressive as Varce was still two cultivation levels above Cyril at the peak of the Core Building Realm. Your Divine Senses were supposed to upgrade with each cultivation level, but Cyril's senses definitely defied the normal rules.
Cyril remembered red, bright red. Vibrant red feathers that were warm and comforting. Vivid red feathers dripping red blood. Cyril pushed away the painful memory of red feathers and fire. An obscure memory of a toy came to mind. That was pink, he remembered.
"I remember the color pink and I remember seeing my reflection. My eyes were red as a child," red like the feathers he remembered. Cyril's voice was oddly soft.
Varce realized that something in Cyril's demeanor had changed. 'sh*t, now you've done it. Why did I have to run my big mouth and ask something like that?' Varce's thoughts were a mess as he looked at Cyril. This was the emotionless Cyril he was used to.
"I'm… sorry." Varce was a prideful person. Only his father and godfather could make him apologize. But Varce realized he must have touched something he shouldn't have. Cyril was important as his future mate. This abrupt change in Cyril startled Varce. The defenses came back up without warning, but he knew it was his fault. Varce wanted to see the other side of Cyril again. If that meant stepping on his pride to say he was sorry, then only his father, his godfather, and Cyril could make him apologize. Though really, it was just Arvel and Cyril now. Hopefully, that was enough.