They lost their sight to illness, severe cataracts formed from high fever, and could barely see more than the occasional shadows in the grey haze of their world. They met Wraithvine and Bibrid by accidentally bumping into them. Fortunately, neither was offended when asked if they could be touched so the being could see them. -- Anon Guest
Red-rash fever had put his world into a permanent fog. Barin could see light, and if he was close enough, the vague shapes of things. Most people were used to him and helped in various ways, and used a stick in less familiar spaces.
Which was why Barin literally bumped into the strangers. The rest of his town knew to avoid him, or to at least announce their presence.
It was helpful that they apologised first. One relatively tall. One definitely smallfolk, though there was a sense of something truly powerful about the smallfolk. The taller one had a similar aura, though Barin couldn't be certain he knew the words for it.
"Most folk around here know I can't see well," said Barin. "May I... see you?" He reached out with one hand. Not as far as their voices, but far enough that they could suppose the rest.
One hand guided him to an elven face. Shorter than most Elves he had met. Warm from the sun. There was a large hat that felt like it was made with patches, some well-worn clothing, and the purring cloud of a long-haired cat at the shoulders. There were callused hands, rougher than they should have been for a Wizard.
Barin felt like he was touching something tremendously old. The same with the smallfolk. Gnomish, thick eyebrows. There was something... odd... about his skin. Something that seemed like scales, but when felt again were smooth skin. He felt a chill run down his spine.
No mortal should be allowed to touch such power and live. Barin shrank away. "You have important work to do here. I should fetch my stick so I don't get in your way again."
"We could help you see," offered the Gnome. "It's no bother to us."
"I don't remember what the world's supposed to look like," said Barin. "I don't even know if I want to see again. There's more important matters than me, at any rate."
"That's exactly why we want to help," said the Elf. There was a sense of movement, but nothing of a threat. "If we didn't care for those seen as least important, we wouldn't be able to care about that seen as most important."
A warm, callused thumb pressed to Barin's brow. A tingle of magic... and then nothing.
"May you see better days," said the Gnome.
"Pleasant journeys," said the Elf.
It was, when Barin got down to it, an unusual encounter. What he didn't expect was a slow lifting of the fog that had been all he could see for most of his life. Over months, he could see more shapes in the fog, then colours. Little by little, allowing him to get used to it, his vision came back.
Just one little miracle in amongst a million others.
[Photo by Artem Sapegin on Unsplash]
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