The Ophthalmologist

Morvain glared at the old man. His cheeks still throbbed, and for many reasons, he believed the slap was personal, and he did not, in fact, like that.

He wanted to kill this man. Slap him across his old and wrinkled face. Break his prosthetic leg and make him crumble on the ground. He wanted to mount him and deliver a beating to this undying curse of a human.

But he couldn't.

Not only this man, but he also wanted to kill so many other people too. But he couldn't do that. Why?

Because even a little kid over the age of 10 could beat him up, and that too, just regular kids. If he tried to pick a fight with even the lowest-ranking awakened ones, they could kill him with just a slap.

His brain was his greatest accomplishment. He did not have any pride, though egotistical, he could lower his gaze whenever he wanted to and stab the knife when the right time arrives.

And he had vowed, that one day, he will kill this man.

"Good, very good. You carved his eyes just as I taught you. Everything is intact and with a little time, I think this will suit you just perfectly," his father laughed throatily. "Even in death, he's going to outshadow you, boy."

He wanted to slap him.

The old man pushed the chair back and limped to his worktable. It was filled with many gadgets and other technically advanced stuff that he and Eldric had stolen for their father.

He took some tweezers and checked the eyes. He examined it thoroughly.

"Yes...yes. This is going to be perfect," he chuckled. "Now, let me 'put' this on you." He approached Morvain with a small syringe. "Don't worry, it won't hurt. It's just going to make you a little bit dizzy." He laughed. "Lie down on the chair."

Morvain walked towards the adjustable chair and reclined. A bright light beamed directly onto his head. His father approached, checking the needle.

"Have you ever done this before?" Morvain asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

"Not yet." He pushed the plunger slightly, and liquid trickled out. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there?" He offered a reassuring yet ominous smile.

'Fuck.'

Then he inserted the needle into Morvain's right eye.

...

Everything was dark for Morvain.

He couldn't recall anything beyond the initial soul-sucking pain from the syringe. Even now, he couldn't see a thing.

'Was the transplant a failure? Did I really lose my eyes?'

He reached up to touch his eyes, but his hands met something wrapped around his head. It was cloth. A damp cloth enveloped his head.

"You'll have to wear that for a couple of days," his father explained. The sound of his father's voice indicated that he was occupied with something on the table. "Your new eyes need some time to connect and calibrate with your brain. After a couple of days, you can get rid of it."

"How long was I asleep?" Morvain attempted to move, but found himself unable to.

"A couple of hours," the old man replied with a hum. "What is this thing, anyway? Just a rock?"

Morvain heard a muffled sound from the table. He had intended to keep the stone hidden, but it seemed the old man had rummaged through his satchel. Morvain kept quiet about using the stone to shatter the Hound's metallic eyes. He coveted it. He absolutely needed it.

"That's what Eldric also said."

Gideon chuckled softly, despite his predicament. "Eldric, always finding the most peculiar treasures." His father's hands moved with practiced skill as he worked on some delicate task. "I'd say you two are quite alike in that regard. Always chasing after things that don't belong."

Morvain couldn't help but smile, even though he couldn't see his father's expression. "I learned from the best, didn't I?"

His father's laughter filled the dim room. "You did, my boy." The old man replied. "Well, at least something went well. Come on, I'll show you to your room."

Morvain listened to the scraping of the chair against the hard rock floor. Then came the footsteps and the touch of slightly rough hands on his arms.

They made their way to his room.

"Don't open the door if Lavender comes. I'll just say you're in deep pain and don't wish to see her at the moment, alright? I'll bring you the food on time as well."

'Bring me food on time? I guess he's deeply committed to this mission.'

"Yes," Morvain nodded. "What about Lavender? What should we do about her?"

"Well, you can't kill her because you seem to be the unluckiest person in the entire world, and I can't kill her because my ability is entirely focused on technology. She could easily take us both out without any trouble," he explained, then continued, "So, I guess we'll have to play along until we figure out a way to deal with her. Now, go on. Get some sleep."

He nodded and was about to close the door before calling Gideon again.

"Father, may I have the rock back? Since it isn't worth anything, can I keep it?" Morvain's voice held a note of earnestness, a plea laced with sentiment.

"Why?".

"Well, because it reminds me of him. It's a final remembrance for me." Morvain's words hung in the air, carrying the weight of his emotions.

There was a moment of silence, pregnant with anticipation. Morvain strained to hear, desperate to glean some hint of his father's thoughts. Then, to his surprise, he heard a low chuckle.

"Indeed, I have praised you for your acting. You've convinced Lavender," his father remarked, his tone tinged with amusement. "But my dear son, you'll have to do better than that to fool me. Now, I'll have to examine the rock thoroughly this time. Who knows, maybe you're hiding something from me."

'Bloody hell!'

His father had always been a step ahead, a fact that both irked and impressed Morvain.