1Thousand Eyes Looking Back
S'cyre Lecareixz
The sky seemed lonely as deeply melancholic shade of purple seemed to be its majestic attire this night. It did not even bother to dot its dress with diamonds, but rather took fancy to the wispy and amorphous gray smudges one would call clouds.
The wind seemed to be sharing the sky's sorrow as it moaned a sad, yet melodious tune sending a lonesome chill into anyone who would happen come across it.
He shivered, wrapping his leather jacket around him tightly, gathering the loose bandages around his body that were being blown by the gusts. Sighing, he looked down below as the cars whizzed pass the empty midnight streets with his pure white eyes. They were the blind's eyes, having no pupils or irises, yet he was truly far from being so. Instead, he could see everything, left, right even behind him, without so much as turning his head back.
His attention turned back to the cloth that wrapped his skin, having caught sight of one of the eyes embedded in his right arm. He pulled his sleeve up slightly, revealing more eyes slowly moving in different directions along with scars that might as well be vacant spaces for even more eyes.
He unwound his bandage slightly from his arm, slowly tying it back again, sighing. It truly was a tedious task, having to mummify himself ever single morning, lest someone caught sight of his abnormality. Such was the life of the Dragon of the Eyes.
He sighed, taking a gold coin from his pocket and flipping it idly, making a continuous tinkling sound. It wasn't much, but it was a slightly more jubilant company than the sky or the wind or the cars that sped by at least a hundred feet down below.
He flipped it again and caught it, his mind suddenly wandering into the memories of seventy five years ago, as clear as though he were looking at it through a window.
He remembered her face and the radiance of her smile. He loved her smile; whenever she did it he too would do the same. It was infectious and made it seem as though nothing in the world could ever go wrong.
He sighed, running a hand through his russet hair looking up into the sky. If it were truly his destiny to become the Dragon he wished only that she didn't die because of it.
Serphiel rummaged his pockets for two old photographs printed on a plastic card, taking it out and looking at it. The first was a picture of his family and the second was a picture of her. He smiled sadly at both, eyes falling onto the blank spaces in the pictures. He had been there in the pictures too, once, but he was gone as was his identity then.
He pocketed the pictures, a stray tear running down his white eyes. Perhaps, if she had not died, surely she would have forgotten him too… so maybe, just maybe, it was better off for the both of them that she had perished that day, at least she remembered him and that he somehow knew she was up there, smiling upon him, telling him, maybe some things in the world go wrong, but there is always a reason why it did.