Rid Me of My Gift

      "Have you seen her around? Flaunting that new staff that her latest admirer had gifted her?" gossiped the townsfolk as they eyed her from a near distance. "Surely any Xweetok with such a stunning gaze would be sought out by others from outside these lands?" they continued to whisper. The fine Xweetok merely ignored their words, whether they be a compliment or an insult, many said she didn't deserve all the attention she received, which could be considered seeing as how she almost always got what she wanted by batting her eyelashes. She honestly didn't care for that matter, for she had already found one she truly loved, one that she wanted to spend her life with.

      A young prince in fact, of the highest royalty behind King Skarl. He was a dapper fellow, but not of the Skeith descendant, but of Xweetok much like the lady. But she knew he didn't love her for whom she truly was, but because of her grand golden eyes, much like everyone else. After an evening visit with the kind, yet blinded, prince she strolled out beyond the borders and to the woods to seek closure from the grief. The prince bid her farewell, waving as she exited his house, saying how much he couldn't wait to see her- or her eyes- again.

      "These eyes are not a gift!" She spit in anger, following an old forgotten forest path. "But a curse! Nobody- not even the prince- will look over my gaze and into the true me!" It was the truth, she never had a conversation with anybody because they always commented on her brilliant yellow eyes. No one was fascinated with who she really was, because her eyes were of much more importance, it was the first thing everybody noticed about her, so it was the first thing they had to say. "The prince doesn't love me! He loves these two masks!" she continued to curse. Her stroll carried her far from her home, and deeper into the forest, where she cried and begged for a solution to her issue. And to her surprise, someone was indeed listening to her desperate pleas. Someone who had been in a similar situation.

      In the shadows, hidden from most of Neopia, listened a cruel creature of magical power, one that had been deemed of a fate unlike most.

      "I've heard your words!" the creature rasped, catching the attention of the Xweetok. "And I offer a way to rid you of your eyes forever!" it said, careful to stay in the shadows.

      Shocked, the lady looked out to the direction of the voice in search for the speaker. "Whose there?" she replied. "Is this true? You can help me?"

      The creature scampered from her sight, staying invisible in the dense forest shrubs. "Indeed my fair lady. I am a witch- er- sorcerer of that sorts! I can get rid of any problem!"

      "A sorcerer!" the Xweetok exclaimed. "How lucky!"

      "Please, come, follow me, and I can make your wish come true!"

      The Xweetok followed the voice, the forest soon began to grow dark. But it wasn't night, which was strange and made the Xweetok question where the unknown sorcerer was leading her to. The trees turned from lush and green to a sickly gray, and the grass turned to dirt beneath her steps, every flower that was once colorful and lively was now drooping with a dead sense of evil. "Erm, perhaps we should go back?" she mumbled, mostly to herself.

      "Back! No, there is no back!"

      Frightened now, the Xweetok turned around, determined to leave. "I'm going, we are far from my home, and I don't want to get lost!" she said once more, ready to make a dash out of the forest.

      "Don't worry, we've reached our destination ma'am! Now close your pretty little eyes!" the sorcerer said quickly. The Xweetok did as she was instructed, although a voice inside of her still pushed her to run, and covered her eyes, blind now to whatever was happening in her surroundings. She could faintly hear the chanting of the sorcerer, quiet and muffled. And suddenly, a bright light! She peeked through her eyes, but saw nothing but a hooded figure, with a large staff of magic proportion, but she saw a familiar face from under the cloak. A face that nobody could forget; the face of a corrupted, bitter Acara.

      "Vira!" she gasped, but it was too late. The chant had finished, and the ugly truth of a simple wish was unfolded and twisted. And then, within moments, darkness. The words of the Acara faded.

      "A curse for someone who cant appreciate a gift."

      "I'm sure she went this way!" said the young prince, pointing towards the forest. Twilight was approaching quick, and most of the townsfolk had grown worried of the Xweetok's departure. "She couldn't have gone far! She said she had gone to collect her thoughts!" He explained, leading a group into the dark forest in search of the one with golden eyes. They looked for the remainder of the day, until finally the prince came across a clearing, strewn with dead flowers and old creaky trees. And in the middle, sat the elegant Xweetok, her hands covered over her face as she swallowed small sobs, the area around her was in almost as bad shape as she appeared to be in. Torn and broken.

      "There you are!" the prince shouted, he ran with quick speed until he knelled besides the Xweetok, her dress was ruffled and covered with dirt. "Is something wrong?" he asked, attempting to remove her hands from her face.

      "No!" she cried, swatting him away. "You mustn't see me!"

      The prince was curious as to why his dear had suddenly grown so timid, she was once so quick to uncover her beauty and share it with whomever was near. "Whatever is wrong, please show me! My beloved, its alright," he persuaded, putting his arm around her in a small attempt to comfort her.

      The Xweetok choked down her last sob, and slowly uncovered her eyes.

      Horrendous. Dark pits, a black abyss with no end. Where her shining golden gaze once was, now where two holes. A scream, and everyone was gone. Including the prince, what had become of the one with golden eyes? "She's a demon!" they cried, running with all speed back to their homes, leaving her to herself, where she could only ask for forgiveness. It was a misunderstanding after-all, now none will ever peer at her again! It was a cruel twist of fate. The Xweetok was alone now, crying at her eyeless sockets, the eyes are a window to the soul as some say, and now she had neither. And a whisper could be heard, in the shadows.

      Be careful what you wish for.

The End