Cilwynthryth sat on the edge of her bed in her dark blue nightgown, her fingers curled about her tresses, tying them tightly together, while her other hand raised to run an ornamented comb through the light blonde waves of her hair.
Her pale dead eyes looked vacantly in front of her, seeing only darkness - if it could be counted as looking, or seeing.
The darkness had fallen over her four years ago. No one knew the reason why, and none of the healers were able to cure her. She had accepted her fate more quickly than her brothers and father had, who had for at least two years sought a solution for her lost sight. Eventually they had given up as well, accepting that she’d be forever lost in the lightless world.
She had learnt not to mind. She smiled bravely and with courage sought to be part of the world of those who could see. She had learnt to carry the frustration of tripping over fallen items with elegance. She had learnt to not scream, when someone or something suddenly touched her out of darkness. She had learnt to listen, to smell, to touch, to memorize. Although unfortunate for her, she wasn’t that skilled in memorizing routes, for which she often got lost. In those occasions - she had learnt not to panic.
She had adapted, yet none would say her life was easy. The borders of her homeland had grown restless and eventually her family had deemed it wise to send her to live at a safer region - she was sent to the quiet town of Bree while her brothers and father remained to safeguard the kingdom. She understood they merely wished to help her, yet she had not left willingly - nor without a fight.
Eventually she had learnt to live with their decision. Her older brother, Eothric, sent her coins and her younger brother, Bronhric, sent her wood carvings. Eothric had adviced her not to leave her late cousin’s house in Bree, and had paid for the neighbour to bring her food and all the necessary items. She tried to respect his wishes and remain positive, but at times she felt like a prisoner, the solitude slowly starting to gnaw her spirit.
It was a particularly cold morning when she stepped out of the house, holding tightly a thin dark cane. She ran the cane lightly along the road, across the stones, into the blackness afore her, before taking the first determinate step toward the Town of Bree - her humble goal to find a friend from the world without light.
