It had been about two weeks since his run in with the pirates, two weeks since the loss of his eye and two weeks since they shattered his pirates and drove his mind to the brink of insanity. Although it had been just about half a month since the incident, there wasn't one day when the thoughts of that awful night left his mind. The cruel laughter of those pirates, the screams of the women who got dragged off, the calls between brothers as one fell to the hands of pirates. They all plagued his mind.
It was undeniable that he failed that night, he made a promise to that village, to his friend, to keep them safe, to stave off those who threatened them. For all his efforts, he wasn't strong enough too beat them, and all he had too show for it was the loss of his right eye, broken hands and a depressed outlook. Although there was promise made that night that he intended to keep, he told that pirate leader, he would gut him like a fish, and the day he crossed paths with that pirate he would make due on that promise whole heartedly. However, Belen at this point was in no state to do that. Ever since he lost his eye he seemingly lost his ability in archery, and although his skill wasn't gone, Belen knew it would take time to learn again with his new disability. Then again the fact that his fingers were broken didn't help either.
Belen knew he had to get better, but he couldn't do it on his own, which lead him on the road towards Taengea. Belen didn't know the kingdom or it's people all too well, however he knew their forests and coin well, in earlier times Belen would travel down too Taegnea during the hunting season and then sell his catches on the market, namely during the large festivals Taengea was so well known for. This time however, it was far more urgent. Over his years Belen had heard of amazing healers residing in Taengea, blessed or not they were people of great skill, after all there was always some truth in myths. Whether they could fix his eye was unlikely, not even the blessed could do such a thing, only the gods could preform such a miracle, and last time Belen checked they were not on his side.
During his time on the road the road towards Taengea it stormed, and it stormed hard. Rain beat down on him almost every second day as he travelled. There where times where during his travels he would have to stop for shelter and reapply his crude bandages. It was only for the last stretch of the journey was he able to hitch a ride on a farmer's carriage, after he took pity on Belen's undoubtedly pathetic state, and for as much as Belen's stubbornness wanted to deny the offer, saying he could make it on his own, Belen knew his condition was already bad, he could already feel sickness over taking his body, he didn't need it to get any worse.
It was the eve of that day he arrived in the city residence of Taengea. Belen was always a figure that seemed to seep into the shadows, unnoticed, yet here he stood out like a shinning beacon. His leather armour he wore was tattered and scarred by the countless slashes of a blade he received, his brown and green robes and been ripped and shredded and plenty of new scars littered his face and arms. Crude bandages made from the cloth of torn up clothing were wrapped around his head and right eye as well as both his hands. The quiver on his back held all but two arrows and his hatch was beaten and beat. The only thing that seemed to be in any usable condition was his bow, yet with his hands bandaged up, he was in no state to use it.
It had taken some time, but by the sky was turning black and stars began to lit up the streets, Belen slammed his hand down on the door of a healer. He had asked around the residences and those who wanted him gone from their sight pointed him in this direction, and those of compassion did the same. Coughing loudly as sickness began too over take his body, he slammed his hand down once more. "Please, please please." He whispered too himself as he rested his head on the door. Slamming his hand down again for the final time as he screwed his eyes shut. He needed a healer, he needed them now, he needed a miracle. He needed hope.
It was undeniable that he failed that night, he made a promise to that village, to his friend, to keep them safe, to stave off those who threatened them. For all his efforts, he wasn't strong enough too beat them, and all he had too show for it was the loss of his right eye, broken hands and a depressed outlook. Although there was promise made that night that he intended to keep, he told that pirate leader, he would gut him like a fish, and the day he crossed paths with that pirate he would make due on that promise whole heartedly. However, Belen at this point was in no state to do that. Ever since he lost his eye he seemingly lost his ability in archery, and although his skill wasn't gone, Belen knew it would take time to learn again with his new disability. Then again the fact that his fingers were broken didn't help either.
Belen knew he had to get better, but he couldn't do it on his own, which lead him on the road towards Taengea. Belen didn't know the kingdom or it's people all too well, however he knew their forests and coin well, in earlier times Belen would travel down too Taegnea during the hunting season and then sell his catches on the market, namely during the large festivals Taengea was so well known for. This time however, it was far more urgent. Over his years Belen had heard of amazing healers residing in Taengea, blessed or not they were people of great skill, after all there was always some truth in myths. Whether they could fix his eye was unlikely, not even the blessed could do such a thing, only the gods could preform such a miracle, and last time Belen checked they were not on his side.
During his time on the road the road towards Taengea it stormed, and it stormed hard. Rain beat down on him almost every second day as he travelled. There where times where during his travels he would have to stop for shelter and reapply his crude bandages. It was only for the last stretch of the journey was he able to hitch a ride on a farmer's carriage, after he took pity on Belen's undoubtedly pathetic state, and for as much as Belen's stubbornness wanted to deny the offer, saying he could make it on his own, Belen knew his condition was already bad, he could already feel sickness over taking his body, he didn't need it to get any worse.
It was the eve of that day he arrived in the city residence of Taengea. Belen was always a figure that seemed to seep into the shadows, unnoticed, yet here he stood out like a shinning beacon. His leather armour he wore was tattered and scarred by the countless slashes of a blade he received, his brown and green robes and been ripped and shredded and plenty of new scars littered his face and arms. Crude bandages made from the cloth of torn up clothing were wrapped around his head and right eye as well as both his hands. The quiver on his back held all but two arrows and his hatch was beaten and beat. The only thing that seemed to be in any usable condition was his bow, yet with his hands bandaged up, he was in no state to use it.
It had taken some time, but by the sky was turning black and stars began to lit up the streets, Belen slammed his hand down on the door of a healer. He had asked around the residences and those who wanted him gone from their sight pointed him in this direction, and those of compassion did the same. Coughing loudly as sickness began too over take his body, he slammed his hand down once more. "Please, please please." He whispered too himself as he rested his head on the door. Slamming his hand down again for the final time as he screwed his eyes shut. He needed a healer, he needed them now, he needed a miracle. He needed hope.