The Scholar was excited. After years of research, his first experiment on a living human was a success. The blind orphan boy’s eyesight was restored. It had taken a few days after the procedure for the child to fully regain his sight; the boy reported that his world was becoming lighter and clearer every day. This was in line with the Scholar’s animal experiments – they had all started off by walking very cautiously, but then became bolder as the days passed. He had assumed that this was due to the initial fear of their new sensation, but this explanation worked just as well.

The Scholar’s first success was with a rabbit, although the celebrations were short lived. The rabbit died a few days after it had fully regained its sight; its heart stopped. The Scholar suspected that this was unrelated to the procedure – rabbits were timid creatures, and it was likely something had just scared it to death. Nonetheless, he decided to use more resilient animals in future. When one of the townsfolk brought in four cats that had been blind since birth, the Scholar proceeded to try the method on them. The results were exactly as he had hoped, so he arranged for the orphan boy to be brought to him. Once satisfied with the boy’s results, he requested an audience with the king.

‘So as I understand it, the procedure involves harnessing lightning in some way? Surely, if something went wrong, or if it was a more powerful bolt than expected, the force of it could have killed the child?’
King Alther was trying not to get his hopes up. His only son, and heir to the throne, had been born blind.

‘No, Your Majesty. The equipment is tuned so that it only allows a certain amount of lightning force through. Whether the bolt is weak or strong makes no difference. I believe that the worst that can happen is…well, nothing at all. That is, Prince Kelter may not regain his sight, but no harm would come to him.’

The king observed the orphan boy, who certainly appeared to be in rude health.  He ordered that the child be given two silver coins and be sent on his way – to be a sighted beggar this time, perhaps. He was reluctant to put his son’s life in any danger, however remote the possibility, but Prince Kelter was adamant that he wanted to try the procedure.

“I cannot command armies if I am blind, Father. I would have to give up the throne, you know that – to Jemmen of Arkh of all people.”

The king watched the previously blind cats race around the room. They were brimming with health, playing with each other, chasing shadows and hissing at nothing. He thought of the damage Jemmen, who was next in line for the throne, could do to the kingdom. He relented, and Kelter cheered.

The procedure took place the next time there was a suitable thunderstorm. There were a tense few hours while the prince’s eyes had to remain covered, but finally the time came to remove the bandages. The Scholar tentatively called it a success. The young man could could make out shapes and some colours. It was exactly as it had been with the little beggar at first, so the Scholar was quietly hopeful.

The prince spent the next few days in a state of wonder. His vision improved daily, and he delighted in the new experience. He took in everything with glee: trees, people, horses, the sunset. Both king and prince expressed their gratitude to the Scholar for his research, and for the new lease of life – not only for Kelter, but for the entire kingdom.

One sight that delighted the prince was that of the four cats. They spent most of their time in his quarters and, while not friendly to anyone else, they would curl themselves in his lap and stay when he stroked them. We have a kinship, he thought. We have all been touched by lightning. He smiled as the tabby hit something that wasn’t there with its paw, then purred at a point somewhere in front of its face. Wait, there is something there. Some kind of shadow-like cloud. It was something he hadn’t noticed before, so he asked the Scholar about it.

‘There is nothing there, Your Highness. It is getting late in the day, it was probably just a trick of the light.’

Kelter wasn’t so sure. He observed the cats the following morning and saw the shadow-things again. If anything, they were more visible now. He walked around the castle and its grounds and saw more of them; they didn’t appear to be confined to cats. Humans, horses, dogs – any living creature he saw had a few of the shadow-things in its immediate vicinity. He looked in the mirror. There were even a few around him, hovering over his shoulders.

As the days passed, he found that the things were taking on a more concrete form. They were darker and somehow more…substantial. He also noted that only he and the four cats could see them. Other cats – and of course other humans – seemed oblivious to them. A side effect of the procedure? He decided not to mention anything further to the Scholar, and certainly not to his father. Why worry the king unnecessarily, after all – his vision was fine apart from that. That night, as he lay in bed, he thought he saw a pair of red dots in the dark; they looked a little like eyes. Now that will be a trick of the light, he thought, laughing at himself. It’s bound to be one of the cats sitting on the windowsill.

As Kelter drifted off to sleep high in the castle, the Guardsmen were called following a disturbance outside one of the town’s taverns. They eyed the dead body with raised eyebrows.
‘What happened to him? Did you see who did this?’  The innkeeper shook his head.
‘He ran out of that alleyway, screaming. Then he fell onto his knees, did…that to himself and bled out. The alley was empty when I looked.’
‘Poor mite,’ said the innkeeper’s wife. ‘I used to give him a few scraps sometimes, when he hadn’t made enough pennies to get himself fed.’
They all looked at the boy, the bloody gaping holes in his face, the blood on his hands. A peaceful smile was on his lips.

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Tags: blindness, eyes, Fantasy, Flash Fiction, fridayflash, Horror, Writing

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