Blind
There wasn't anything she could recall of the world above. She remembered when the day of sacrifice had come she’d volunteered. Ursula had been taken immediately, they bathed her, scrubbed her till she felt raw, and dressed her in a fine gown. The last thing she did was clasp her in irons. Then they brought her a stone dais and said he would come when it was time. She sat and waited unsure of the passage of time. Something came for her as she felt suddenly ripped off the dais. Ursula had been left in a room and told to sit by some unearthly voice no a command that was not even spoken
Time passed and her mind wondered if she had made the right choice. She thought about many things. She had nothing left that she knew or cared about in the world above.
She sat in the darkness, the space was cool and smelled earthen. There was an odd warmth coming from one end of the space. She sat holding her knees to her chest. Her ankles were bound. A form stood in the corner of the space studying the girl as if it were his dinner, He made no movements or sound. He stood poised as if on edge.
“Tell me your name child” his voice was strange and beautiful. It held a gruff raspy edge to it, She jerked her head up as if to hear where the noise came from. She tilted it slightly with uneasiness as her hair fell into her eyes.
“Ursala Fiore” she stammered out, as she held her knees tighter. He only moved a step or towards the hearth. His eyes fell over again and something about her intrigued him. He sensed every single drop of blood in her body, the sound of her heartbeat all but too enticing, He made a motion for her to come to the hearth yet she did not move. He raised his chin in thought still watching her,
“Come to the Hearth,” he said, commanding her to move. Ursala stood and raised her head brushing back the hair from her eyes. She opened them for the first time, they were pale and silvery. She looked towards the sound of the command but did not move as if she were unsure of her steps.
“I.. Cannot see the hearth,” she said as shuffled her feet as if her body were trying to sense the warmth of the lit fire. He stood rigid suddenly and moved to her quickly. His touch was odd as he grasped her hand. He looked into her eyes as she stood in the light of the hearth, they were wide. She stood still, there was a hastened breath as she reached up a free hand and she touched his face. The moment is odd, cold, and surreal. He let go of the hand so quickly and moved away from her. She touched him.
“Sit Down” his raspy voice bellowed from the other end of the space. She sat down slowly, the ripples of the white cloth she wore pooling around herself. She held her knees again looking as if she was cold. His eyes stared at her.
“What’s your name?” she asked. Her voice echoed in the room as the fire cracked. He cocked his head to the side looking at her, this creature spoke to her, who was she to speak to him, he was infuriated, and yet, still her simple question he wanted to answer it. He felt compelled to answer it.
“Julian, forgive me I don’t usually converse with my dinner,” he said as he leaned on the wall Julian’s gold eyes watched over her still. In all his centuries of living, he never spoke to his food, not once It was simply brought to him. Usually, some beautiful girl the town chose as their sacrifice, to maintain the rites of protection, this tradition upheld. He could count her every breath, and heartbeat yet he stood there watching,
“I was told it would be painless Julian,” Ursala said. Her eyes were wide and open yet looked at nothing in particular. Julian made a noise like swallowing as she said that. He licked his lips for a moment. He moved across the room and she was still as he pushed her head to the side looking at her neck.
“Why you?” he said into her ear as they were locked into a holding pattern now. Ursala wasn’t even struggling; it was as if she had resigned herself to this moment. Julian felt a raw nerve being poked at this moment, his food should beg for its life, it should scream in terror. There was no game, no sport to be had.
“What use is a blind girl to the town? What more could I offer when I cannot see? What use am I if this is how I may serve, then let it be painless” Ursala spoke with a clear resolve. Julian went slack as he looked at her neck still.
“I volunteered to do this”
After those words were spoken the air went cold in the room and he was filled with an intangible amount of rage. The people above treated this girl as if she was nothing. Why else would one willingly give their life? He didn’t realize he was squeezing her wrist until her small whimper of pain broke the silence.
“Forgive me” he sighed
“Please…” she said in a hushed whisper. “If I go back it is death all the same” Ursula put her hands over her eyes struggling to fight back her tears now. Julian sighed deeply, sending her back would be death, and eating her would be folly. He felt a crease starting to form between his eyes as he gazed into the hearth. The gods have cursed me he thought as he held her in his arms.
“Ursula, I need to feed,” he said as he lifted her and carried her to a rather plush chair in the corner. Julian sat her down and broke the shackles on her ankles. Taking deep breaths he reached for a blanket nearby and draped it over her legs.
“Stay in this chair I will return in a few hours, you must stay right here.” His words seemed only gentle as he stood up. “I will find something sensible for you to eat” Julian sighed hesitantly heeding the cool air of the night. He needed away from her and his mind reeled and the room felt like it was swirling around him.
Julian exhaled slowly, the weight of her words sinking into him. Sending her back meant death, keeping her here defied his very nature. He looked toward the hearth, feeling a tightness in his chest as he struggled with his instincts—desire, hunger, and something else unfamiliar. The warmth of her body against his skin had been overwhelming, a reminder of a closeness he hadn’t known in centuries. He reluctantly let her go, stepping back, his gaze lingering on her trembling figure. Without another word, he turned and swiftly exited the room, his long strides carrying him down the dimly lit hallway.
The cold stone walls greeted him as he leaned against them, struggling to catch his breath. What is happening to me? he thought, pressing his palms to his temples.
Footsteps echoed softly down the corridor. Julian turned to see a man approach, dressed in a formal black suit, his appearance precise, glasses perched neatly on his nose. He adjusted them with calm efficiency as he addressed Julian.
“Master, shall I clean up the body for you?” The man’s tone was matter-of-fact, devoid of emotion.
Julian shook his head, the words falling from his lips almost absently. “She isn’t dead, Emory.”
Emory paused, an audible gasp escaping him as he blinked in surprise. It was rare to see any emotion from the usually stoic servant. He adjusted his glasses once more, regaining his composure. “Then what would you have me do with your… food, my lord?”
“Wrap it. Save it for later,” Julian replied curtly, though the usual sharpness in his tone was softened by a hesitation. He cleared his throat. “No… actually, find her a room. Make sure she’s taken care of. She is blind, Emory.”
Emory's brow furrowed slightly, his confusion visible despite his practiced calm. “But, my lord… she is human. Surely you—”
“Enough,” Julian interrupted, raising his hand. His voice resonated with an icy authority, the air around them growing colder as the shadows along the hall deepened, snuffing out the faint light. “You will treat her with care.”
The command echoed off the stone, leaving no room for argument.
“Yes, my Liege,” Emory replied with a low bow, his voice steady though there was now a tension in his movements. He turned and headed down the hall, his footsteps fading as Julian watched him go. Julian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. What was this emotion? This strange, sudden feeling that had taken hold of him?
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