Have you ever looked to the stars, to the bright blue sky, and wondered. Or maybe pondered, what would it be like to never see them again. To forsake the gift of sight and the blessing of color.
All for a nascent idea, a power understood by many, yet used by none. A touch, a sensation of the grass below me. Of the life that it held. It swayed in the wind.
And with it the day came to an end. As foretold by the clock that rang in my ear. But what would one be without sensations? Without the touch of another, the fragrant scent of the sea, or even just the morrows dinner. Would one truly be able to live? To sense their own life with the sacrifice of their own senses.
It was a question that rang through my mind. One that refused to leave, even as I gently touched the injured bird on my hand. A thought and a burst of pain, a sensation of the bird's injury. Of how it flew too close to the ground, snapped by a creature of significant size and with it, lost one of their only wings.
I could feel the pain, the sorrow, every sensation that the bird felt. It hurt so much. But I did nothing but smile. I was already used to such pain and I knew that if I were to voice my pain, that the bird would fly away free before I could fully heal it.
Yet even still, with every speck of pain tolerance I had clawed from the ground up. Even then my mouth let out a grunt. Greater than I wanted it to be. And with that grunt came the fluttering of wings.
A sound that saddened me, for I had not fully healed the bird and forevermore would it be touched by aches and pain. Pain that I would have been able to heal. If only I was a bit more sturdy in my pain tolerance.
"Gabriel!" A voice echoed through the air. It reached my ears and brought a smile to my face. I turned, the void of darkness, devoid of any light, was gone. Replaced only by a small glow.
"I'm here, but must you be so reckless? I can sense the injuries before even coming into contact with you."
The ball of light fluttered, something I had come to know of as embarrassment. But I paid it no mind. If she wanted to be all tough then I would allow her to be. It was a women's pride after all, to be tough and ignore all injuries that they had taken upon themselves.
They were such silly beings.
And so, with the knowledge of her bruises and injuries. I stood, the staff in my hand waving about and told me of the bumps and perils of the journey before me.
Yes, I was blind, but it was a small thing. What was the world for the ability to heal? I found it no great price, after all it was my greatest joy, to bring about peace and health to those that found themselves stuck in despair.
A contract that I found greatly to my advantage.
But to others, such as my sister that suffered so in her attempts for my cure. I giggled slightly, there was none. Yet I could not break that illusion of hers. To think that I might see again one day. It was truly a fantasy of the highest order.
"Careful." She whispered into my ear. Her hand attached to mine. It led me through the terrain and back into the carriage where the guards waited. They placed me back into the confines of the cage.
But I did not mind, even as all of them treated me like some glass bird. One that would break with every touch.
For I had gained the hand of them all. Placed the burden of their injuries upon my psyche, even to the displeasure of them all.
When a grunt came from my mouth, it told of my use of my power. It told my sister of how I took their injuries and gave them my health. I could tell, all by the fluctuations of that orb of light of hers.
"YOU" Her orb was so volatile, but I knew she could never hurt me. And as such I only giggled and leaned into her. The headache and pains of my use fading to the void of nothing that sat in my mind.
She could no longer stay mad, I knew because I had that effect on people. As I was told, apparently I was quite cute.
And I was not above using that in order to heal her, or even my parents.
…
…
…
My hand reached for the chair, guided by the gentle touch of my mother. I furrowed my brows when she sat next to me. An orb of power greater than the guards that stood outside the room.
My hand was guided once again to the fork and to the precut meal. One that was then fed to me by her. Her orb was fluctuating. Not in the usual, but in some way that told of worry. Of some important news.
I wished once again that I could heal their emotions. To take away all of their stress and worries. And do as I did their wounds.
But it was only wishful thinking. Such was my curse of altruism.
"Gabriel" My father said, his voice low and submissive, so weak in tone. But I smiled anyway, even as whatever the bad news was reached his mouth.
"The negotiations have finalized, you will be sent in the morrow"
A gasp escaped the room, several people that had listened in, most obvious of which, my sister, had all gasped at the news.
But I merely smiled, even saddened as I was from the news. It was my fate after all. And I was already quite old for this. Already fourteen and not yet married. It was quite scandalous for my family.
"But!" My sister interjected yet was interrupted by a wave of power that was sent from my side. I shivered at it but, as I hoped at least, had not moved or shown my discomfort.
"Neither I nor your father are happy about this but-"
It was then that I interrupted, "I will be fine, it is for the good of the family after all. At least tell me, was it worth it. Am I to be engaged to a fine lady or am I to be used and discarded by those sorts"
I waved my hand, my smile never wavered. Even as the atmosphere tensed. They knew the sort I spoke of. Women that used their power and influence to take young boys or even men. All for themselves and only send the family some influence in return.
Or at least until the boy that they had their eyes on grew disfavored. But even then, I was still happy, as long as my family thrived. For they had cared for me, for all of my life and through all of the hardships I had given them.
"Of course not, it should not be yes, father?"
Her tone was shaken, as if she had not even thought that I would be sold off to some noble like that.
But I appreciated it, even as unsure that it was. It still gave me untold amounts of warmth. All because I knew that she cared for me. Beyond the basest of uses.
The orb, of my father, wavered for a moment, and so too did my mother. And it was more than an answer.
Enough that my sister stomped from her perch on her chair, the orb that signified her stomping around the table and to my side.
I did not resist as she gently guided me out of my chair. And out of the room. Even as the orbs of mother and father soured.