The night had passed, and the sun was rising as usual. Rays of light filtered through the partially drawn curtain, casting a gentle glow on Von’s face. Slowly, he started to open his eyes, noticing that his vision was a bit blurry, similar to when one had a few tears in their eyes.
He rubbed his eyes, hoping it would clear the blurriness, but it persisted. Massaging his tear ducts didn’t help either. Von couldn’t understand why his vision had worsened overnight. As a Stage 1 Pagna warrior, impurities in his body should have been removed, and issues like deteriorating eyesight shouldn’t occur, unless his eyes were damaged or he had been poisoned.
To his right, the door opened, and he hastily covered his upper body, as he usually slept somewhat bare.
“Von, you need to get up for morning practice; you’re a bit late!” one of the other disciples called.
“Alright, already,” Von replied. “You could have at least knocked before you came in.” 𝑂𝒱𝑙xt.𝓬𝒪𝑚
“I did, I knocked a few times; it’s not my fault you’re deaf,” the disciple said before leaving annoyed.
Von’s vision was only slightly deteriorated; he could still read and see the disciples’ faces clearly up close. However, at a distance, things began to blur. He decided to ignore it for now and headed off to his morning training.
At the Red Brigade Clan, students usually started their day with a morning run and unarmed sparring before breakfast. Being a bit late meant that Von had missed the morning routine, and the students were already engaged in sparring.
They fought using only their fists with no Qi involved for a minute and then switched to new partners. Von and his opponent exchanged hits, blocking and attacking each other. After a minute, they moved on to their next partners. In between rounds, Von was vigorously rubbing his eyes.
“Are you okay?” his current sparring partner asked.
Von’s eye-rubbing continued, and he could barely hear something faint. He looked up to see his opponent, but his hearing was muffled, and his vision had deteriorated further. He could only distinguish the general shape of the disciple in front of him, with a few characteristics here and their.
“Are you okay?” the disciple asked again.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Von replied with a hoarse voice that came and went as he spoke, as if he had spent the whole night screaming. This, too, was something that shouldn’t have affected a Stage 1 Pagna warrior.
“I’m sorry; I think I need to go somewhere,” Von said, rushing off and leaving the clan base. Because of his status as a disciple, he wouldn’t get into too much trouble for leaving, especially if he stated his reason. Which he hadn’t done this time, but it would be no big deal.
As Von walked through the town, he tried to figure out what had happened to him.
“My voice, my hearing, and my vision. Why have all of them deteriorated? Was it something to do with that white-haired kid?”
During their scuffle, although he looked desperate at times, there were also moments where Von could have sworn he saw the other person smiling. It was hard for him to believe, as no one in that situation would have been able to smile.
“It might have been this strange earring as well. It did come from that kid; maybe he knows something about it,” Von thought.
Right now, he could still see, hear, and speak, but everything was slightly worse than usual. So Von decided to go to the main suspect, the person in question. It would be embarrassing for him to report it to the higher clan members if it turned out the kid had nothing to do with it. If things didn’t improve, he would speak to the clan about visiting a physician.
As Von walked through the forest and up the winding stairs, he started to notice that the temple in the distance was getting blurrier, and the world around him was quieting down. It was as if his head were underwater, and his senses were fading.
Sprinting to the top, Von crossed the temple walls and entered the training courtyard. Most temple kids were outside sweeping leaves when they saw someone from the Red Brigade arrive.
“Is that a disciple?”
“Yeah, he’s wearing the clothing; it has to be the disciple.”
“Is he looking for Sir Kron?”
Many of the young children in the town shared the dream of becoming Pagna warriors. However, this aspiration often waned as they grew older and learned about the difficulties and challenges that came with such a path. Still, living in a town with a clan nearby, everyone recognized the disciples of the Red Brigade Clan. However, the one who had just arrived was acting rather peculiar.
“Maybe I should go see what he wants,” Simyon said, starting to walk over. But he stopped in his tracks as Raze stepped in front of him.
After making an excuse to Kron about taking a tumble and landing on his nose while trying to test his strength, Raze had also insisted on taking a different job that would allow him to be outside in the sunlight. Kron, not thinking much of it, had accepted his request, and it had all led to this moment.
“Hey, are you looking for someone?” Raze asked loudly. “Or are you having trouble seeing them?”
As Raze shouted these words, Von turned his head, and he could see the white-haired figure before him.
“Yo…” Von attempted to speak, but his voice came out strained, sounding as if only air were escaping his lips.
‘What did he do to me, what is it? He knows…he definitely knows!’
“Are you having troubling speaking as well!” Raze asked.
‘Those words! What was it, was it the earring, I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him!’
Von’s attempts to scream yielded no words, and his vision deteriorated rapidly. It became a chaotic mesh of colors, and he grew desperate, striking out in front of him, but hitting nothing. The sounds around him faded into nothingness. Falling to his knees, tears streamed down his face, but he couldn’t even feel them. It was then that he realized he might have lost his sense of touch as well.
Panic consumed him. He reached around the side of his face and felt the earring that was attached. At this point, he no longer cared about potential scarring; he just wanted to get better, to return to the way he was. With a surge of desperation, he ripped the earring from his earlobe and flung it away. He had no idea where it landed, but his condition showed no sign of improvement. Von began slamming the ground, causing the tiles beneath him to break.
Amidst the chaos, one of the temple kids ran inside and brought out Kron. The sight of the red uniform caught Kron’s attention, and he rushed over.
“What’s wrong? Why are you here? Has something happened?” Kron asked as Von continued to strike blindly, unable to hear or see.
Korn avoided the hit’s and due to the situation he was left with no choice but to strike at the back of his head knocking him out.
“I’ll be heading into the town quickly to see what’s going on. I won’t be away for long,” Kron said, before hurrying away.
Meanwhile, Raze stared blankly at the spot where Von had been. He reflected on his actions.
‘If people knew what I had done, some might think that I was cruel,’ Raze thought, ‘but I have been punished by allowing people like you to live more times than I can count. You attacked me over a few words. You didn’t stop at a simple beating; you humiliated me with your spit as well.
‘And then, when you believed something was precious to me, you took it away. As you continue with your life, never facing consequences for your actions, you wouldgrow up to believe? it was only natural for you to take what you want without thinking about others.’
“That earring wasn’t precious to me, but in the past, I allowed someone like you to get off with light punishment, and they took away something very precious to me. So I won’t make that mistake again.”
Raze searched the courtyard for the earring, recalling the direction in which Von had thrown it. However, he couldn’t locate it.
“I was sure it went here. It has to be here, unless… did someone pick it up?” Raze wondered.
Inside the temple, most of the kids decided to rest while Kron was away. They relaxed in their rooms, except for one person in particular who sat on his bed, holding a black earring in his hand.
“Why did I pick this up?” Simyon thought, puzzled by his own actions.