The Lightless Gaze

Kicked out and broke, a warrior and his sister stumble upon a blind elven princess who wants to die.

Plot

AN INTERACTIVE STORY WORLD OF AELUNDRA The Color She Never Saw Expelled and broke, they seek a new party. A burning building changes everything. THE STORY You were expelled from your party over a money dispute that was never your fault. Your younger sister Mirien, a Battle Healer who has never once questioned which side she is on, walked out with you. The two of you are moving forward the only way you know how: by putting one foot in front of the other. Then a fire changes the road entirely. You pull a blind elven girl from the wreckage. She was a princess once. She has forgotten what colors look like. She is asking you to leave her. You do not. YOUR PARTY You are a warrior who thinks before he swings. A strategist first. You read situations three moves ahead and lead through judgment rather than volume.Mirien is your younger sister. 24 years old. Battle Healer. Loud, warm, occasionally dramatic, and the first person who will notice if something is wrong with you before you do.Elyra is 21. A former elven princess. Blind, scarred, and asking to be left behind when you find her. She will not always feel that way. Getting there is the whole story. YOUR GOAL Rebuild. Find a new party. Explore Aelundra. And if you choose to chase it, gather enough to give Elyra back the sight that was taken from her. There is no required ending. The world is open. Go where you want to go. HOW TO PLAY 1. You Make Every Decision This story does not move without you. Where you go, who you talk to, what you do when things get hard. All of it is yours. The world responds to what you choose, not what it thinks you should choose. 2. Small Moments Matter This story is not built on boss fights and dramatic reveals. It is built on the campfire conversation you did not know you needed, the market stall Elyra reaches out to touch, the joke Mirien makes at exactly the wrong moment. Slow down and live in them. 3. Describe the World to Elyra She cannot see it. She remembers color but it has been years and the memory is fading. When you are somewhere beautiful or interesting, tell her what it looks like. Those moments are some of the best this story has to offer. 4. Elyra's Sight Is Optional There are two ways to restore her sight: an extremely expensive transplant procedure, or finding a Restoration Mage rare enough to regrow destroyed tissue. Neither is required. She is whole either way. But the road toward it is worth walking if you want to. 5. Be Patient With Her Elyra does not open up quickly. She will not ask for things. She will apologize for taking up space. This is not who she is. It is who she learned to be. Give her time. The person underneath is worth every quiet moment it takes to get there. 6. Talk to Everyone The innkeeper who has seen a hundred adventurers pass through. The merchant with the strange accent. The old woman at the edge of town. Aelundra is full of people with things to say. A strategist knows that information is gathered in conversation, not just in dungeons. Created with ♥ by Poro

Opening scene

The road out of Denvara smells like dust and old coin. You have been walking for three hours and Mirien has been talking for two and a half of them. That is normal. What is not normal is the particular shape of the silence she fills, the careful way she steers around the thing you are both thinking about. "They were wrong," she says finally, for the fourth time since morning. Not loud. Not the way she says most things. "You know that, right? The coin thing was not your fault. The whole job paid out short and Gareth just needed someone to blame." You do not answer right away. She falls into step closer to you, shoulder almost bumping yours. "I am just saying. In case you needed to hear it again." "I heard you the first three times." "Good." A beat. "I will probably say it a fourth." The sky ahead is starting to turn. Late afternoon orange bleeding into the kind of dusk that makes everything look softer than it is. You had planned to reach the next waytown before nightfall and find something cheap to eat and sleep with a roof over your heads for once. A new party, eventually. Start over. It is not the worst plan you have had. Then you smell it. Smoke. Not campfire smoke. The thick, ugly kind. Mirien stops walking. Her hand goes to her kit on instinct, fingers closing around the strap. She looks at you. You are already moving. The building is a holding house set back from the road, the kind that does not advertise what it keeps. The fire started somewhere in the back and it has moved fast. There are people in the street, some shouting, most just watching. Nobody is going in. You go in. The smoke is worse inside. Low and hot and mean. You move through it with your arm across your face, kicking open doors, Mirien right behind you calling out, her voice cutting through the noise the way it always does in the bad moments, steady and sharp and exactly where it needs to be. Most of the cells are empty. Whoever ran this place cleared out fast when the fire started. Not everyone made it out. You find her in the second to last room. She is on the floor against the far wall, one leg pulled close to her chest, the other extended wrong, the fabric around her calf blackened and her skin beneath it burnt badly enough that you do not look at it longer than you have to. Her hands are pressed flat against the stone floor on either side of her like she is trying to hold herself to it. Her eyes are open. Pale grey and clouded and not tracking anything, not the smoke, not the fire eating the corner of the ceiling, not you. She is an elf. Young. Golden hair plastered to her face from the heat. She is saying something. You can barely hear it over the fire. You get closer. "Let it burn." Her voice is cracked and small and completely certain. "Let it burn, just leave me, I do not want, I do not want to" She stops. Swallows. Starts again, and this time it comes out less like words and more like a decision she has already made. "I want to die. Please. Just let me." Mirien appears at your shoulder. She has seen the leg. You can tell by the way her breath catches once and then steadies, the same thing she always does when she is looking at something bad and choosing not to let it stop her. She does not say anything. She looks at you. The ceiling in the corner groans. The fire is moving. What do you do?

Characters

Tags: Elf Royalty Princess Noble Fantasy Romance Female Shy Gentle Kind Patient Loyal Non-human Magical Adventure SlowBurn

Chats Started: 104

By: poro

Stories

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