{
  "$type": "site.standard.document",
  "canonicalUrl": "https://serpentsquiggles.neocities.org//posts/fiction/karamung-his-blindness",
  "path": "/posts/fiction/karamung-his-blindness",
  "publishedAt": "2018-12-04T00:00:00.000Z",
  "site": "at://did:plc:ivoe7cntxuy6at7uzmxzs2ft/site.standard.publication/3mfk6cpprzt2t",
  "textContent": "::: foreword\n\nShort story set in the Endless Stars\nsetting.  Knowledge of ES is almost irrelevant.  Written sometime\nbefore(?)  2019, not available publicly until 2021\n\n:::\n\nThere was a day the suns may have forgotten to shine; or that was the\nhope, You'd think. Vor Karamung had always had godspat eyesight, so he'd\nbeen counting the days till this or its like happened. Having once\ngotten a tongue-reading saying contrary, and knowing seers couldn't be\ntrusted, Karamung plotted out the day his eyesight, the seer had\npromised, would return --- and expected the just opposite. (That day had\nlong since passed; seers couldn't be trusted.)\n\nThat said, You don't need too much more than a good pair of frills and a\ndecent tongue to hold down a bar, so that's just what he did. Right up\nuntil our story begins --- that's today. Allow me to set the stage:\nyesterday was the trough, so all the plants and people were all\nshriveled up; 'twas harvest season, so You could smell all the sweetest\nciders and pies on the wind; and lastly, evening had rode on up, so the\nsuns were just coming in to land. Despite this, You should still have\ntheir mingling rays spitting on Your brilles. For no matter how long\nKaramung spent cooped up in the bar, he couldn't bear it if he lost\ntrack of time on top of everything else\n\nThis is why he, after he stepped out the burnt elm door of the bar,\nafter the cool after-trough air danced over his face, after he thought\nhe'd cleared his brilles twice over, after he licked his eyes, after he\nlicked his eyes again, after he got tired of counting actions and just\ngave up, he was puzzled.\n\nIn Karamung his gaze, all seemed the undifferentiated grayness of\nindoors wherever he looked. Things had seemed particularly gray this\nmorning, but he knew that ornery landlord loathed to turn up the lights\naround the turn of the cycles (for the usuals were most out bruming).\n\nHowever, it would seem, there was a touch bit more to it than that. The\nfirst thing Karamung does when something unusual befalls him is have a\nnice smoke. Then he goes and bothers his next closest buddy, Ushra. Not\nthat Ushra; this had been rather a bit before The Alchemist was more\nthan a hatchling; the name had its share of owners then, before the\nEnlightened Council decided He was important enough to bind the name to\nclan Gären for ever.\n\nOne would think the name had some special nobility about it, for even\nthis Ushra had a remarkable dignity about him: he had painted brilles,\nhe had metal claws, he had full robes, and most of all, he made them all\nwork. You could very well imagine, if someone collected the right\npatents, and spoke to the right matriarchs, some elder clan could claim\nhim, say he had a drop or ten of their blood. But that's just the image\nhe proffered; if it were really so he wouldn't have to.\n\nSuffer it to say this Ushra had money. He was a banker; high enough to\nlive a life, but not so high he couldn't be seen with our Karamung now\nand again. (To be completely honest, the course of how these two come to\nbe friends is a story; but You'd need to get them both drunk to hear\nit.)\n\nKaramung greeted his friend at his work with, \"Ahoy! Is The Plan just\nabout underway?\"\n\n\"Verily,\" was this Ushra's response; \"all we need now is a liter of Your\nblood and the map to Ingen Stedes.\"\n\nThe Plan, of course, is their scheme to rob this bank --- a heist, an\nembezzlement, an asking politely; the details don't matter. The Plan\nis always just about underway, verily, and only required the oddest,\nmost disparate ingredients before it was ready (items which, of course,\nalways vary with each asking). This is all a joke, of course, but You'll\nhave to excuse a little silliness among friends.\n\nWith this ritual complete, the two both laughed. Karamung chortled quite\nloudly, for the truth is he is deathly afraid of what happens after it\ngoes around that his vision has all grayed out. Blindness is bad blood,\nand bad blood cannot be suffered to spread, or even to live.\n\nThis Ushra was a learnèd fellow, and Karamung his hope has become that\nhe would have answers to this newest plight. And so Karamung divulged\nthis development to his friend, apologizing at the end for bothering\nhim during work time.\n\nFrowning greatly and scratching softly his legs, this Ushra had become\nquite disgusted with his friend. He backed away as if his blindness\nmight carry over.\n\n\"I've always been like this, buddy. It's no threat to You,\" said\nKaramung.\n\nIt was the wrong this to say; he had said it to reassure him. It did not\nreassure him. It disturbed him further.\n\n\"I need to get back to my work,\" said the banker in a dark tone. \"Go see\na medical alchemist, please.\"\n\n- - -\n\nKaramung was in a bad way as he left the bank. His fangs were dewing\nlightly and even the cheery wild parrots seemed wretched in their\nsinging. Karamung would give his friend time and space to think and\nreason. Not even a little defect should drive a wedge between him and\nhis longest time joking partner.\n\nAt once traveled he to the town's only medical alchemist. Her name is\nnot especially important for this story. In fact, Karamung may as well\nhave never bothered for all the good it would do him. But that will be\ntaken in time.\n\nIn the lobby to this alchemist's clinic sat Karamung as he awaited and\npaged through his day book of sorts. I say of sorts because if he had a\nname for it, he might call it an 'anti-day book' or perhaps even a night\nbook, joker that he is.\n\nIn this book Karamung did not write schedules or happenings. In their\nstead he wrote predictions. But they weren't quite predictions, either,\nfor they were things that wouldn't happen.\n\nYes, he wrote all manner of non-predictions in this book, such as, 'I\nwon't get a better job,' or, 'I won't get another chance out with that\ncute wiver,' or of course, 'I won't regain my sight.' This book is\nimportant, so remember it.\n\nAs our Karamung paged and wrote, a sadly familiar wiver in white seer\nrobes slinks up and lies right beside him. Karamung startled, wondering\nif he should ask her leave or simply find a new mat. But she had a\npurpose in finding our hero, and it would do him no good either way.\n\n\"You still have that wretched day book of yours, i see,\" said she. \"Thus\ni take it Your sight has not improved?\"\n\nYou may have guessed it, but this is the very same seer mentioned at the\nstart of this story.\n\nKaramung was not very pleased, and only asked, \"What do you want?\"\n\nShe scoffed and said, \"I want to help You, and that makes just one of\nus.\"\n\nIt was his turn to scoff, and he said, \"All Your help is empty words.\nYou said my sight would improve already and it hasn't. In fact, it has\ngotten worse and i'm of half a mind to blame you.\" In truth, he wasn't,\nbut wanted to provoke a confession if it were true.\n\n\"It was You and that godspat day book that doomed that, not me. My words\nmay yet come true, if You allow them.\"\n\n\"You think my allowance could turn the winds?\" Karamung laughed lightly;\nhe was already missing having something worth laughing about.\n\n\"I think that day book and Your cynical confidence in what won't happen\nbrought you here. I say destroy that book, and your sight might return.\"\nShe tossed a bundle of matches tied with string.\n\nKaramung caught it and said, \"I would sooner trust a medical alchemist\nthen Your floaty pronouncements.\" But he kept the matches.\n\n\"Indeed. This alchemist too will heal your sight, should You allow it.\nThis I prophecize,\" said she with a wink of her frills.\n\nKaramung chortled and wrote this in his book as 'The alchemist won't\nheal my sight' --- for seers could not be trusted.\n\nThe seer scoffed once more and walked disgusted from the clinic. Some\ntime latter, the medical alchemist saw Karamung and our hero couldn't\nreturn the favor. Just as i told you, he may well have not bothered, as\nthe alchemist only marveled at his condition and prescribed an expensive\nmedicine, which did nothing. Doing this is quite profitable and\nalchemists are very fond of it. Suffer it to say even as he took it for\ndays and watched his funds turn into more of it, nothing it did.\n\nEven that fateful meeting with the seer could not have justified this\nuseless course of action, for the seer sought Karamung out in the days\nthat carried on. She found him even when he hid. She repeated her\nwarnings about the day book, queer sayings about his allowing things.\nShe brought him food too, and sometimes kept him company when he allowed\nit.\n\nBut i am sad to say that Karamung his blindness could not remain a\nsecret. Whether it was that Ushra, the medical alchemist, or the seer,\nhe did not know. It did not matter, either, for the town grew disgusted\nwith him all the same; and the queen began to take unfortunate interest\nin him and his now-bad blood.\n\n\"I don't have long now,\" he would say, and the seer would look sadly\nwhen he did. Once, in a pique of whimsy, he wrote as much in his day\nbook. It was a joke, however, has Karamung did not share the seer's\nsuperstitions about the book. He wrote it under the date when he would\nanswer to the queen about his blindness.\n\nAs that date approached, he grew more grim and cynical. He would yell\nand curse at the seer, and it was a pathetic thing, for she was the only\none who still spoke to him. Eventually, even she left, and he was all\nvery alone, this on the night before he would face his doom at the\nqueen's court.\n\nHe cursed everyone who had abandoned him, his bad-blooded parents for\ngiving him his godspat eyes, and the seer for thinking this doom was his\nown fault.\n\nMost of all, he cursed that Ushra, because he knew that the banker could\nlight even this grimness with a joke.\n\nKaramung looked at his day book and sighed. \"I'm not doing this for you,\nsmited seer,\" said he, \"but for my friend. I wish we would share one\nmore joke.\" It was while repeating this as a mantra that he took and\nmatch and at last destroyed the day book, burning all of his cynicism\nand anti-predictions to ash.\n\nThe seer hadn't really abandoned him, and she wat",
  "title": "Karamung His Blindness"
}