An Eye For An Eye Makes The Whole World..

[Rahmil Binachi]

The search for the book had left the group exhausted.
They never found the book and the girl had managed to slip away during their tiresome trudge back to the tavern in which Rahmil stayed.
After a weary bargain with the owner and a few convincing words to the two men that had both been to hell and back, she paid for each of their rooms. Both on either side of hers, close together.
After what had happened, she was reluctant to let them go.
Even if one of them was a Templar.


The last thing she remembered was stripping out of her wet, bloodied rags into whatever was dry, and plunging into the sheets.
Then nothing but darkness.
Not even a dream to stir her,
just
black
silence.



But have you ever woken up to a feeling that something was wrong?


She jolted upright, the skin on the back of her neck and arms suddenly attacked by the chill of goose bumps, her breathing fast and uncertain.
She looked around the black of her room. It had to be during the early hours of the morning, even before the sun had risen because her head still pounded and the place she called home was nothing but an empty abyss.
" _{Who's there?} " She hissed, turning her head pointlessly to look around.
She sat still for a good five minutes, head cocked and ears strained. But with a headache sent from the deep pits of hell its self, her head eventually lowered back to the pillow.

Then all was still.

[Diego Liberatore]

The night was rough for Diego at the start. After finding medicine and a proper bandage for his wound, the next trick had been to find a comfortable way to sleep after agreeing to stay at the tavern. The room was unfamiliar to him, and the sounds of drunkards and other guests moving through the hall took the place of the usual peace and quiet he was accustomed to in his own house. After he had - with much difficulty - changed into his night clothes, he tried to lay down.

It wasn't as easy as it had been before, his muscles stiff, wound fresh and adrenaline gone. It took him fifteen minutes just to lower himself onto his stomach on his mattress, a pillow beneath his chest to elevate his shoulder. For a while he lay in the dark, until finally exhaustion took him and pulled him into a deep, deep sleep from which he never wished to awake. It was as if he were dead, in the most perfect slumber anyone could ever achieve. And yet, he felt as if he could control it, as if some part of him really was awake. But he chose to sleep.

Unfortunately, as daylight peeked through his window, he realized that he was more awake than asleep, and that strange control over sleep he thought he had was actually just him waking up. He shut his eyes and pulled the blanket over his head carefully. Just a few more minutes... ignorant of what was happening in the room beside his own.

[Nicola Rangé]

It was an exhausting day for Nicola, and he didn't protest at all when someone suggested to go stay at a local tavern. The moment he stepped into his room, he fell onto his bed, and went straight to sleep. His slept peacefully through the night, and awoke to a refreshing start at the first traces of sunlight that peeked through his window. Giving a long, rested yawn, Nicola sat up in his bed, his legs hanging off the side. He found himself looking out the window, feeling paralyzed and unwilling to move.

But slowly, gradually... He got up from his mattress and stretched out his muscles. He found himself to be drawn to the sunlight yet again, and for a few more moments, he stood next to his window, drinking in the new day.

[Rahmil Binachi]

It seemed like only minutes later when Rahmil awoke again, to what? She didn't know. It was still nothing but pitch black in her room, so again, she could not see.
Sitting up, she gritted her teeth, angry at being woken yet again.
She reached out and felt for the candle and box of matches by her bed side, fumbling until she could position the match on the rough surface of her bed side table, and yanking it towards her.
Nothing.
Her brows furrowed.
She heard the fire start, could even feel the warmth.
Or did she?
Reaching up she touched the tip of the match, only to be greeted with the scorching pain of fire burning the skin of her fingers.
Without warning, a loud yell erupted from her lips.
Both from pain and the shock of realization.
The match was dropped and her screams turned into panicked breathing.
She rubbed her eyes constantly, blinked,
did everything she could think of.
It was all
still
black.

Hysteria began to kick in and she began to scramble, kicking the covers off of her body and eventually falling to the hard floor.
She couldn't see she couldn't see she couldn't see
she
couldn't
see.

Her mouth opened in a silent screech as tears filled her sightless eyes and burned down her cheeks. She held her burnt fingers to her chest and pulled her knees up, rocking herself and she hiccuped and cried and begged.
" _{It's just a dream, It's just a dream, Oh God it's just a dream.} "

[Diego Liberatore]

Screams of terror tore him from his slumber, snatched him from under his blankets and ripped him from his bed. His shoulder screamed at him from beneath his bandage, but it was silenced by his immediate panic. Who?! What?! Why?! Huh?! The screams continued, and he realized they were coming from Rahmil's room.

Diego threw the door open with such a force that it slammed against the wall behind it. "Rahmil!" he shouted her name as he was met with the shocking sight of her on the floor, in the strangest state he had ever seen someone in. He knelt beside her carefully, trying to find the source of her fear. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the room. He put one arm around her, trying to steady her rocking, knowing that if she continued she would only work herself up more. "Rahmil I'm here, look at me." he commanded her, when he noticed she wouldn't even make eye contact. She didn't even glare. "What's the matter? What's wrong?" He looked down at her red, burned fingers she clutched in her hand, but dared not take them from her. She was trembling, but she didn't feel cold to him. Her blankets were thrown aside and almost touching the floor, and a dead match lay on the ground. None of it made any sense to him. She was in a fit, talking about dreams. "Rahmil, talk to me."

[Nicola Rangé]

A scream immeditely gripped Nicola from his peaceful state. Running, he exited the room and turned the corner just in time to see Antonnio throwing open the door. Entering cautiously, Nicola saw Rahmil sprawled across the floor, crying; and he didn't see any reason as to why.

"Rahmil..." was the only thing he could muster. Her eyes seemed distant, and Nico knew that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

[Rahmil Binachi]

Sounds filled her ears but the image of the source was left in the dark, which only made her cry harder.
Diego was in the room, that she was sure of, yet even when the arm wrapped around her she yelled out in surprise and jumped, cowering back against the dresser.
look at me He said.
She didn't know where to look, she barely even heard Nicola say her name.
Shaking her head she covered her face with her hands as her sobs grew more intense.
" _{I'm blind} " She choked out, still pushing against the furniture.
" _{Dear God I'm blind} "

[Diego Liberatore]

She startled him as she shrieked and backed away from him, backed up against the dresser. His heart sank as her cries became more clamorous, more panicked as she said she was blind. For a while he was silent, watching her helplessly. She reminded him of one of his sisters. An older version, perhaps, but still. He wanted to stop her tears, to protect her from something that couldn't be helped. He swallowed, thinking. Diego looked to Nicola, searching his face for guidance, for help, for answers.

But then Diego remembered. This was all his fault. Nicola's fault. He was the one who had wanted to go retrieve the book, after all of them were safe after the first blood bath. He was the one who went running off and came running back, asking desperately for assistance. He was the one who went against the plan. They were just supposed to rescue the girl. That was it. But he wanted to do more, he wanted to be the hero, save the book too from the hands of the 'evil' Templars.

Diego gritted his teeth, returning his gaze to Rahmil and swallowing his rage. This wasn't the time for Nicola. Rahmil needed to be the center of their focus now, and she would need the both of them. His expression and voice softened as he looked at her once more. "Nicola and I will help you." he promised her, and carefully reached out to her until his fingers rested on the top of her hand again. He didn't try to hold her hand, he was just showing her were he was. He didn't want her screaming and flying back a second time. Diego tried to think of words that would calm her, would some how soothe her fears. But he couldn't think of any that wouldn't also bring false hope. He said them anyway. "Don't worry, it's only from the swelling. Once that goes away everything will be fine again, you'll see." Poor choice of words. He thought of telling her not to cry, but he knew that wasn't fair. As much as he didn't want to see her cry, he knew that she had to. So he knelt there, silently, not knowing what to do and his hand reached out to hers. "Let's at least get you off the floor?" he offered, trying to be helpful. "We can get a doctor to come and help you as soon as possible." That, also, was an offer. An offer which he would insist on, should she deny it.

[Nicola Rangé]

Rahmil's words were like a punch to the stomach. They left him unable to catch his breath, to hardly be able to even stand. It was a difficult fact to swallow. He wanted to believe that maybe this would be temporary... That there was no way Rahmil would stay this way forever. But Nicola knew very deep down that brain injuries don't improve. Whatever sight she still held would only worsen over time.

Antonnio's glare didn't help him feel any better. Was he really blaming him for this?! If anything, it was the very faction that the dog was pledged to that caused this. They captured the girl; they dealt Rahmil the blow that blinded her. This wasn't his fault. Any blame that the Templar was trying to cast was only trying to shift the blame to someone else.

With bitter relations aside, Nicola needed to get help. "I'm getting a doctor. Keep her here." He spoke with expressionless eyes.

And then he ran. He didn't know how long it would take to find help, but he knew it was there. Somewhere.

[Rahmil Binachi]

Her violent sobs began to transition into soft sniffles, till she was finally quiet.
Diego's voice had comforted her, and even if she wasn't sure if she would see again, his optimism was surely welcome.
So she held his hand, ignoring the pain of her burnt fingers and just keeping it close for a good moment before letting out a long, shaky breath.
She covered her face again and leaned forward till her face was almost touching the wooden floorboards.
" _{Get me something to use as a blind fold.} " She nearly croaked, her voice hoarse from crying.
" _{The feeling of my eyes being open, but not seeing is....} " She trailed off, her voice wavering as if she was about to cry again.
" _{Oh L'orso, what am I going to do} "

[Diego Liberatore]

Searching through her belongings felt awkward, but he did so only to find a blindfold as she had asked. Drawers opened and closed quickly as he tried to respect her privacy as much as possible. At last spotting something useful, he detached a length of tie ribbon from a piece of clothing, pulling it until it came free of its bindings. Diego knelt beside her again, and he wiped her tears away and carefully brushed her damp eyelashes closed before securing the ribbon comfortably around her eyes.

He looked at her when she called him by his nicknamed and asked him pitifully what she would do. It wasn't an easy question to answer, and at first he met it only with hesitation. He put a hand on her shoulder, again showing her exactly where he was and also trying to offer some comfort. It took a while for him to answer. What would she do? Without her sight, her career was over. A blind assassin? That certainly wouldn't do. She would struggle every day to climb the steps in the tavern and to find the right room. Even feeding herself anything other than fingerfood would become a chore.

"You will heal." he answered her finally. "That's what you'll do. And you will relax and be patient, and let Nicola and I take care of you until you can see again." The hand he rested on his shoulder moved to be just beneath her arm, and he tugged at her, gently trying to coax her to stand. "But first, you have to get off the floor." Diego watched her with pity, took in the full sight of his friend without. He just wanted to hug her and tell her that it would be ok, even when he wasn't sure it would be.

And he would do so, if she would just stand up. The floor was a symbol of defeat, a place for the down-trodden, the broken and the dead. Those who sank to the floor rarely got up again, and if they did they were never the same. He tugged a little more insistently, though still gently as he mumbled words of encouragement. There was nothing wrong with her legs, it was just a matter of her having enough mental strength and determination to do it. "Come on, Rahmil. Up with you. You can stand. Up."

[Nicola Rangé]

Thankfully, tracking down a doctor in the streets of Roma wasn't too difficult. Returning a few minutes later to Rahmil, Nicola led the bird-masked man into the room. "She hit her head," he was explaining. "And now she's having difficulty seeing."

Approaching Rahmil carefully, the doctor began his exam, asking questions along the way.

[Rahmil Binachi]

She could hear him, fumbling around in her drawers. A sight sound that would, on a normal occasion, anger her to no end, but it was on her request that he search for she could not do it herself.
The floors creaked as he got closer, and even though she knew he was going to touch her, still flinched when he tied it tight.
She reached up to feel it, to make sure the fabric was there and pursed her lips. This was pathetic.
She was pathetic.
Just
Pathetic.

Yet encouraging words broke though her self misery, verbally petting her into telling her that it will all be alright. She wanted to believe it, in fact, she had to believe it if she was going to survive. It will all get better, and you will see again.
Using his support, she slowly stood up, keeping a hand resting on his arm to keep from swaying and focused all her weight into her feet to stay grounded.

The door swung open and the smells of sickness and strong medicines sweeped through the room as well as the sound of Nicolas voice, and some un-identified 'mmhms' in response.
The smell grew stronger, and on instinct she ducked back- very well knowing how poorly some of the doctors are with their beaks, and not wanting to be jammed in the face with this one.
Of course the flinch made her stumble back into the wall, and clutch onto Diego's arm for dear life.
But then she laughed.
It started out as a small chuckle and then bubbled into a fit of laughter,
a fit of sarcastic, ironic, laughter.
She couldn't see the beak,
yet she still flinched.
How funny.

[Diego Liberatore]

"There you go." he smiled as she finally stood, glad at least of that. He kept his arm available to her to keep her upright, and then Nicola came back with the doctor. A bit of hope stirred in him at the sight of the bird-faced man, even with his stench and strange uniform. But as Rahmil ducked back - surprisingly accurately - from the mask, she pulled on him for balance. Out of instinct he reached to her with both of this arms, grunting back his pain as his shoulder muscles moved. He managed to help her regain her balance quickly, but tasted blood in his mouth from where he bit his cheek for silence. After that he just linked arms with her, standing at her side as the doctor continued his questions, hoping there would be no more surprise flinches at least for a little while.

But then she did something else that caught him off guard. She laughed. And it sounded crazy to him, given the circumstances, like a madwoman laughing at her own pain. Diego exchanged glances with the doctor, and dared even to look at Nicola to see how he interpreted the situation. "How, uh, long has she been having this kind of laughter?" the man asked, but looked questioningly at Rahmil. Diego just shook his head. She hadn't been laughing, she'd been crying. This was news to him too. But he said nothing to her. If she wanted to laugh, it was best that he let her laugh.

[Nicola Rangé]

Her laughter stopped all questions that were happening. Nicola looked towards her, hopelessly confused. How hard had she hit her head the other day? "She hasn't been laughing like that," he murmured, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. His eyes trailed to the floor, feeling completely helpless.