Time continued its relentless course.
Vaelor was seven years old when his body began to betray him.
It all started with headaches. At first, they were mild, barely bothersome, and Lyria assumed they were due to the stress of constant training. But gradually they became more intense, more frequent. Then came the blurry visions.
"Lyria." Vaelor was sitting by the window, as always. But his voice had a tone the servant didn't recognize. "Could you... move the candle closer?"
Lyria frowned. The candle was already less than a meter away.
"Young master, can you see it?"
Silence.
"Barely."
Lyria's world crumbled with that word.
◇ ◇ ◇
The following days were filled with denial.
Lyria searched for excuses. Maybe the candle was defective. Maybe the blindfolds were too tight. Maybe he just needed more rest. But deep down, she knew the truth.
The curse was taking its toll.
"It's common in bearers of the Cursed Eyes." Vaelor explained with a calmness that contrasted with the devastation he felt. He had read about this in one of the books Lyria had brought him. "The power of the curse gradually consumes the bearer's vision. Most become completely blind before turning ten."
"There must be something we can do." Lyria's voice trembled. "Some healer, some spell—"
"There is no cure." Vaelor interrupted. "What is broken cannot be fixed."
The phrase sounded strangely mature for a seven-year-old. As if it came from somewhere deeper, from memories that weren't his own.
Lyria fell to her knees before him, tears running freely down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry." She sobbed. "I'm so sorry, young master. If there was something I could do, if I could take your place—"
Vaelor extended his hand and gently placed it on her head.
"Don't apologize for something you can't control." His voice was gentle, comforting. "Besides... losing sight doesn't mean losing the way."
"What do you mean?"
The boy smiled faintly.
"It means I'll have to find another way to see the world."
◇ ◇ ◇
The adaptation began immediately.
Vaelor dedicated every waking hour to training his other senses. He voluntarily closed his eyes, even when he could still see, forcing himself to rely on hearing, smell, and touch.
"Listen." He told himself as he meditated in the center of the room. "The wind against the window. Lyria's footsteps on the stairs. Gris's flutter."
Gris was the name he had given the bird from his first contract. A simple choice, perhaps uncreative, but the bird seemed to respond well to it.
Through his Dominion bond, Vaelor discovered something fascinating: he could perceive fragments of what Gris saw. It wasn't full vision, more like blurry impressions, colors and shapes that appeared in his mind when he concentrated enough. It was like looking through murky water, but it was something.
"It's because of the contract." He explained to Lyria one night, after weeks of experimentation. "The Dominion bond allows a certain... sensory connection. If I strengthen it, I'll be able to see through my beasts' eyes."
"Is that possible?" Lyria seemed skeptical but hopeful.
"The books say elite tamers can do it easily. I just need practice."
And he practiced.
Day after day, night after night. Vaelor pushed the limits of his connection with Gris, trying to clarify those blurry images in his mind. It was exhausting, often frustrating, and more than once he ended up with nosebleeds from the effort.
But gradually, the images improved.
By the time he turned eight, he could see through Gris clearly enough to distinguish faces. It wasn't perfect, and it depended entirely on the bird being nearby, but it was an extraordinary achievement.
"Now I understand why tamers are so feared." Vaelor commented as Gris flew in circles above his head. "It's not just the combat power of the beasts. It's the information. Eyes everywhere."
◇ ◇ ◇
But blindness wasn't the only price of the curse.
At nine years old, Vaelor discovered that his eyes, even closed, still emitted that supernatural terror. The intensity had increased over time, as if the curse fed on itself.
"I need a mask." He decided one night. "The blindfolds aren't enough anymore."
Lyria looked at him sadly.
"A mask, young master?"
"Something that completely covers my eyes. That blocks any... emanation."
The servant nodded slowly. It made sense. If Vaelor ever left the tower, he would need to protect others from his curse.
"I'll see what I can get."
Three weeks later, Lyria presented her creation. It was a simple mask, made of black leather reinforced with shards of enchanted crystal she had stolen from the castle's storage. It covered the upper half of Vaelor's face, from his nose to his forehead, leaving only his mouth and jaw visible.
"I tested the crystals." Lyria explained. "They absorb part of the cursed energy. They don't eliminate it completely, but they significantly reduce the effect."
Vaelor put on the mask. It was uncomfortable, heavy, and made his face sweat. But when he looked at his reflection in the water's blurry surface...
He saw a stranger.
A young man with a sharp jawline, black hair like the night, and a dark mask hiding his cursed eyes. He didn't look like a child. He looked like something... more.
"Thank you, Lyria." He finally said. "It's perfect."
The servant smiled, though her eyes shone with held-back tears.
"Anything for you, young master."
◇ ◇ ◇
The following years were for preparation.
Vaelor trained his body with exercises he found in the library books. Push-ups, sit-ups, runs in the tower's limited space. His physique developed faster than normal, as if his body compensated for the loss of sight with extra strength.
He also expanded his contract arsenal. Besides Gris, he bonded with three mice Lyria caught in the kitchens. They weren't combat creatures, but served as extra eyes he could deploy around the tower.
"Four Dominion contracts." He murmured one night, assessing his progress. "All rank F. Not much, but a start."
'In my previous life...'
The thought came out of nowhere, and Vaelor tensed. Sometimes, fragments of what seemed like memories surfaced in his mind. Images of battles, dragons, a sky on fire. But they vanished as quickly as they came, leaving only confusion.
'Previous life? No... that's impossible.'
He shook his head and returned to his training.
He had a long road ahead.
And something told him time was not on his side.