Vera removed her hand from her eyes and it still felt as if the hand was there. There was no vision from that injured eye. She couldn't see. She was blind. At least she wasn't a cripple.
Salyan came to her, evidently knowing something was amiss with the Imperial huntress. Soon after Aravi followed, and knelt down to ask what had happened and how bad was the condition of the injury.
She kept her head down while her ears tried to pick off the sound of the monstrous bats. She heard nothing at all. Darnand and his spells must have made short work of them.
She blinked and the pain flared in her skull. She winced and breathed, nearly touching her wounded eye in hopes to stop it. It was agonizing.
Vera looked up to Aravi to reveal her left eye. It was black and bloodied and instead of one perfect member like the other, it was just a mass of scarred tissue with yellow within. By all means, her left eye was gone. "I'm can't see with this eye."
She wasn't too worried, though. Not as much as she should be. "It'll be fine," she said, with a hopeful voice.
Though she's never had this sort of injury before, she wasn't certain for sure. Scars and cuts often healed with time. Flesh wounds knit themselves closed only if she was in her other form. If she was injured in that form, and she consumed another person . . . she would be healed. But now . . .
Now only a powerful spell could restore her eye, but with time she could fix this. There were other things to worry about. "We must press onward."
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And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed. I long for scenes where man hath never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept, Untroubling and untroubled where I lie The grass below—above the vaulted sky.”
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