((Originally posted this story on its own on the SWC forum, but put it into Almalodaka's story, as I saw it fit. This takes place two days after Elizabetha's loss of her eyes. Very short, but what the heck.))
A day and two after.
She stirred, slowly turning as she awoke from her slumber. Her senses quickly told of the sweet fragrance in the air, the bird song that resounded outside, the gently breeze of wind that passed the entrance to the garden, the touch of grass between her fingers - yet...all was black. Her mind protested in its hushed way, whispering in her toughts of her loss, and subconsciously she raised a hand to the bandage that covered the empty sockets that had once sheltered her eyes. Her fingers told her of the hollow feeling that they sensed as they gently touched the bandage, causing her to utter a pained sigh. And in that moment she wondered if she'd ever get used to it - get used to never see again. Before her mind's eye images flashed, of the stars, of her grandparents in the happier days long since passed, of her horses, of the beautiful valleys, forests and plains that she had beheld, of all the colours that she had once seen.
She quivered, holding her hands to her head, trying to calm herself just as she had done the first morning after her loss. Forcing herself, she recalled the voices of all those who had come to her the day before, the gasps as she had revealed the empty eye sockets, sensing only their grief on her behalf. She recalled their touch when she had held out her hands to them, yearning for contact, taking comfort in the sense of just to feel their presence, and not merely hearing their voices. Running her hands through her hair she knew that she had chosen her hands as eyes - without even deciding outright that it should be so.
Her breathing calmed as she recounted the conversations she had had with the people, people she loved or at least cared greatly for. And for that she silently gave thanks to the Light that she had been blessed so. Yet pain of having them suffer grief on her behalf hurt her deeply. She had been reckless...foolish, and she had paid the price. She knew deep within that she could've died, and she remembered that shortly after having come to her senses, she had wished she had died - and been spared the despair and fear that she had felt, feeling the full impact of her visual impairment.
She was blind.
Venting a short sigh, she sat up and listened. Something was moving close to her. She recognised the sound, and identified it to be the squirrel that resided there. A faint smile appeared on her face. "Good morning, little friend," she whispered.
Another voice replied melodiously, "Ah, you are awake, Elizabetha. Good morning. Shall I bring you something to eat?" It was a female Night Elf, most likely one of the priestesses from the temple.
Elizabetha stirred slightly stunned. "Oh...yes...please."