OPEN blind to the truth // introduction

[DEAD EYE]

[If you want to skip the backstory and go straight to interacting, please read the first three paragraphs and then the last two. I would love for you to read his story, but no pressure.]

Gummed jaws parted above the sacrificial lava pit. The sound of heavy breath echoed along the cave walls as the maned wolf started his daily morning routine. Careful paws navigated down towards the box that contained the supplies for applying his makeshift dentures and grabbed at the fresh bowl of latex. His paw pad scraped at the edges of the wood to grab as much as he could. Once suitable, his mouth parted further than before and he drenched the top of his palette in the sticky material. The stench reeked, but the taste was even worse. So, he held his breath. 

His first paw dropped to the floor. The other paw was in play now. Shakily, he grabbed at the partial dentures in front of him and maneuvered them up. He pressed the light clay fixture against the roof of his mouth and let it linger for a minute before dropping his paw. That seemed suitable. The canine snapped the teeth together and let them connect a few times to test his bite. Satisfied, his gaze shifted down to the box again. The edges of his maw lifted up to show off the teeth in the mirror underneath him. The teeth were a collection from canines that he had killed and successfully cannibalized, each with their own story, hence he couldn't exactly call them 'his,' but he did anyways. A victor deserved that honor.

He shifted his head down a bit and his eyes were revealed in the mirror. A golden eye stared back at him, but the cloudy orb on the other side did not. Instead, it stared off into what many would presume would be nothingness or a blur, but he saw more than that. It was his punishment. 

The old dog had his fair share of fights in the past. For the longest time, he prevailed as a winner in the fighting pits due to his ability to strike with speed and strategy. He was not wise then. Instead, he was cocky. With a smile, he would undercut his fellow Descendants. He'd taunt them until they got reckless enough to challenge him just so got the opportunity to show he was the dominant Descendant, only to sweep them off their feet and pin them till they submitted. 

"Pray to your Gods," he'd snarl. Even as a full-blooded Descendant, he did not believe there could be someone or something that could control his fate. His life was in his own hands. He was a God amongst men.... or so he thought.

Even in the winter, the heat of the Descendants of the Departed still raged. Nothing stopped. Back then, under Valerius' reign, the seasonal tournaments were unhinged. Meteor had rules, but they never did. He took full advantage of that. 

With his teeth bared, his next opponent of the seasonal tournament stood before him. They were the final two among the brackets that came before. As finalists, they had to put on a good show and he was intent on delivering. The canine always had. With flashy pearly whites and a glint of mischief in his gaze, he paraded the edge of the fighting pit and started his spiel towards the panther. His opponent glared at him from the middle. He could see the fur on the back of their nape start to stand and claws slowly unsheathe. Unlike his other opponents, they did not snap back. He found that to be frustrating. 

He continued to press... and press... and press... until something clicked. The panther bolted forward. He darted to the side, but was taken off his paws moments later. A surprising kick from the feline's back legs had thrown him to the ground. His head collided to the floor violently. The world started to swirl around him and he tried to get to his feet. While doing so, his legs grazed the flames at the edge of the pit. He tried his grit his teeth to stifle his response to the pain, but as his tongue moved, it lapped over loose shards of what had broken during his fall. 

The panther did not give him enough time to let him yap further. They preferred to send a different message. As he spat out a mixture of teeth and blood, they turned back to him. Their paw raised to the sky, only to strike down upon his head moments later. Unable to dodge among the nausea, he collapsed. This time was worst than before.  As if he was heavily inebriated, he tried to raise up from the ground, only to fall into the flames. The smell of singed fur filled the air. 

Most would tap out at this point. Many would even panic. There was no time though. His vice had caught up to him and the panther was here to dish out the punishment. With a heavy breath, he tried one last time to shuffle his way up, but a paw pressed firmly against his back. The audience howled, whether it be in mercy or enjoyment. He felt his body tensing up. Everything felt cold. Clammy, even, despite being engulfed in flames. The pounding of his heart filled his ears and his eyes widened, staring up at the panther. 

"What does a non-believer see when they die?"

His vision started dwindle. He tried to tap with his paw or speak out, but the canine could not move and found no words. His eyes started to roll back. The final pinhole in his vision allowed him to look up the sky. The once blue sky was now falling into dusk. He could swear he saw feathers dancing among the clouds. Then all went black.

When the canine came to, he was alone. Hell, he was barely aware. The cave he was in was dark and exceptionally hot, but he did not seem to mind. Something else was off instead. It was not the burns expected along his legs and across his pelt, nor was it his teeth. His vision in one eye was now gone. It wasn't dark or black like many thought. Being blind is the absence of sight, hence there was nothing.

As he lied there motionless, he tried to recall what happened. In time, he would remember some and piece together the missing information through the Descendants, but in the moment, there was nothing for him to retrieve. A pounding headache and the pain kept him from finding out at the time.

The sound of steps caused his ears to twist and his gaze to shift away from the ceiling. A domestic feline poked their head through the entrance. Their eyes widened. They exited momentarily and turned out towards the hallway. "He's awake," they simply said. Their words prompted a groan from someone in the hall, but they did not seem concerned about it when they finally walked in.

Behind them, another figure followed. While the feline smiled in greeting, the following deer remained emotionless and stared at him with an empty gaze. The feline explained that they were a doctor and were there to tend to their wounds, along with provide any context that was missing now that he was awake, but the follower did not speak. He focused on the deer while the doctor continued. Their pale hue stood out from the dark cave's murky tones and their blank stare unnerved him, especially as it never broke contact with him.

"Hey."

The maned wolf's eye snapped over to the doctor. 

"Are you listening? We can try this again another day when you're rested. I don't mi-" 

"They're staring," he mustered up, despite his lack of teeth.

"What do you mean?"

With a weak gesture, he pointed to the side of the doctor with his burnt paw. The doctor turned, but quickly returned their attention back to him. Rather than pointing out the lack of a tall deer, they just nodded. "I see," they murmured to themselves. He clearly heard their dismissive tone though and squinted his eyes. With tension filling the room and two different scenarios playing out in their minds, the doctor headed out of the cave and back into the hallway. The deer remained though.

"See, I told you. He'd be delusional when he'd wake," came the voice that groaned earlier.

The doctor sighed. "Let him rest. He'll come to."

"You think 'Dead Eye' in there is going to come to? Please... We should have ate him earlier. He's already cooked."

"Lower your voice."

'Dead Eye.' The nickname rang in his head. So, that was it? He was a blind bastard fit for barbeque now? He groaned audibly and closed his eyes... but he did not stop seeing. Among the nothingness, the deer remained. The cervidae tilted their head to the side and inched closer. Their outline started to shift and their form started to shutter as his eyes shot back open. Through staggered breaths, he raised a paw out towards them in an attempt them from moving any further, but the strange figure pushed forth and loomed over him. 

More figures apparated from behind the hooved creature. Rather than their cold gaze, they now stared in intrigue. The rest shared the same sentiment and the same pale, fluctuating silhouette as the deer. He started to notice that some had deep wounds or maims, many that would kill, while others seemed perfectly healthy. They ranged in age and species. The one thing that they all shared was something that he did not want to believe. They were deceased.

He tried to shut his eyes again to no avail. They still were there. The deer leaned down in front of his face, his translucent figure not hiding the beings' gaze behind him, and spoke. "A mortal outside of the underworld sees us... and we see them," they remarked, as if they were talking to the rest. "Has Vayu provided us a connection to the living world?"  The other exploded into soft chatter as he reeled in disbelief. 

A soft chuckle sounded out from him. The figures' heads turned back to him. Their reactions were a mix of their own disbelief, disgust, and excitement. The deer in particular sighed and shook their head.  "Ghosts. Delusions. Splendid..." "We are no delusion." "Prove it." "And how do you expect me to please a non-believer?" "Figure it out."

"See, he's talking to himself."

He turned to see the animal from the hallway gawking at him. They appeared to be the doctor's assistant. The doctor stood nearby with a displeased frown aimed at their apprentice and promptly whisked them away with a flick of their tail.

When he shifted back to the looming figures, they were still staring at him. While he was momentarily distracted, they tried to devise a plan, but came up empty. If he was delusional, they could answer any question he asked with the right one. If they were the dead, and they very much were, they only had information from the newly deceased and from watching the living. They were not tell-alls. He looked disappointed and somewhat frustrated upon their answer, but the deer stepped in for the rest with a suspicious, "You'll see."

As time passed, the beings before him remained distant. He tried to chastise them to leave him be, but they were only gone for so long before they came back to stare. It was like they had seen a ghost. In the meantime, he tried to distract himself by watching the doctors' work on the patients that joined him. They'd come in, get treatment, and go back out into the world. Every now and then, a long-time patient joined him. They'd talk, but it was rough considering his toothless mouth. Some were more sympathetic of his troubles, while others knew of his past and let him rot. 

Eventually, an older fellow joined him. As the fox was ushered into a nest nearby, he wearily offered a wave of his tail. They started to talk in no time. The gentleman seemed to be a wise soul and deeply religious, something he could not relate to. The fox spoke of his family, friends, and those that had passed in his life that were important to him. In particular, he spoke of his young daughter that had succumbed during the right of passage ritual. She had captured another fox successfully and dragged them onto the volcanic island, but their enemy retaliated brutally when in the fighting pit. Clearly, the way he spoke of her indicated that he was watching when it went down.

While the elder was choked up, the deer phased out from the cave walls and into view with a fox following them. "What does she look like?" the apparition urged. The maned wolf stared back, realizing what was at hand. Turning back to the older fox, he repeated the deer's question. The fox hesitated, but answered. An exact description of the fox figure that lurked behind the deer was provided, including the wound that had ended their life. 

As the realization set in for the maned wolf, the older man continued on with his woes. He clearly had regrets. What he didn't say, what he could have done, and whatever else that could have changed the situation. Above all else, he expressed his love. The deceased daughter watched with tears swelling in her eyes. Clearly, neither of them had moved on. 

While the horrors of the deceased and doubt had plagued him for the past few weeks, a weight lifted off his shoulder as the old man finished. Through slurred speech, he offered his condolences. "She knows and does not blame you," came his reassurance. Through tears, the other nodded. 

The deer looked down at him. 

"Do you see now?" 

He did. 

After many years, he had grown adjusted to his condition and the name they had given him. To the Descendants, the nickname 'Dead Eye' represented his blindness. To him, it meant something different. The punishment Vayu had put upon him was something he had to live with. The deceased were always in his vision, interfering with him daily. Even as he closed the box to his denture supplies and looked up, they lurked in the background. Dead Eye, still tired from waking up, offered a weary greeting to the dead before rising to all fours. They offered their hellos in return as he stretched out.

While he was with others across dimensions, he was alone in the living world. Someone was bound to sneak up on him while he was talking to 'a wall' eventually, just as the doctor's apprentice had. As of now, it was better if they were blind to his truth.

[XANTI]

the hardest thing to me is facing the fear i live

no one can help me now, it’s under my heart!

Personally, Xanti thought the sacrificial lava pits were beautiful. Orange, yellow, red swirling together like a molten hell. The cheetah often liked meditating here because of this beauty. Even if Vayu was the god of destruction, seemed he had an eye for aesthetics.

As the doctor padded into the cave, however, xe sighed. Not alone in this sacred place, then? Dead Eye. The oddball who stared at the wall and mumbled to himself. Xanti could understand sitting still and doing nothing for hours, because that was meditation. Xanti could understand restless insanity, because that was Vale. But Dead Eye appeared neither enlightened nor insane, and Xanti didn’t like not knowing the peculiarities of how another’s mind ticked.

“Paying respect to Vayu, Dead Eye?” Xanti asked. Xe glanced at the supplies for the old man’s dentures, but politely looked back at Dead Eye.

And then, perhaps not so politely, grinned. With a tilt of xyr head–pointing one horn dead straight at Dead Eye’s white eye–Xanti asked, “If that eye’s giving you trouble, I can always remove it for you. Surgery is one of my specialties.”

As xe waited for the reply, the cheeetah straightened up. Stopped pointing that horn unsettlingly at Dead Eye’s, well, dead eye. And realized, out of the many eyeballs xe has eaten in xyr life, xe’s never eaten a blind eye.

Would it taste that much different? Probably not, but now xe was curious.

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[DEAD EYE]

At the sound of another, the maned wolf's head turned. The rest of his body followed it's lead as he realized it was only Xanti. "I am indebted to him," he remarked back. "So, I must." Dead Eye was not too pleased with their arrangement, but he learned to accept it. After all, seeing the deceased came in handy sometimes, even if their presence was forever looming over him. 

Xanti's horned tipped down and pointed directly at his eye. That prompted a glare from the older descendant while the cheetah's head was down, only to soften as their head returned back up. The canine was not unfamiliar with the idea of removing his eye, especially after the cruel nickname and the punishment that followed, and had mulled over the concept for quite some time before giving it up. With his luck, it wouldn't work. Vayu had chained him between two worlds and it would remain that way until he slipped over to the other side. 

The canine was quite firm on his decision and vocally expressed it. "Not interested." He knew he sounded quite rude when saying so, especially after Xanti was 'kind' enough to smile. In order to lighten the mood, he shifted to something different. "Though if you could fix these-" His furless paw flicked up towards his mouth while his tongue ran over his replacement teeth. "-then maybe we can talk more."

[XANTI]

the hardest thing to me is facing the fear i live

no one can help me now, it’s under my heart!

The cheetah’s right batwing fluttered. But that was the only reaction Dead Eye’s oddness elicited. Neither insane nor enlightened. That left quite a few options, and these were only the first three Xanti considered: martyr, fanatic, philosopher. Dead Eye didn’t seem like any of the above. But, then, was Vale what insanity looked like? Was Xanti what enlightenment looked like? Assumptions led to defeat.

Xanti blinked. “Eh, your body, your choice.” Then a shrug. “But if that eye pops? Starts losing its spherical shape? Leaks fluid? Swing by the doctors’ caves. Trust me, you don’t want an eye infection seeping into your brain.”

Then, at Dead Eye’s gesture to his mouth, the cheetah barked out a laugh. The laugh was almost a perfect triplet. Then, xe shook xyr head with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t dream of ruining your dentures’ rustic artistry. Why, a person’s teeth is one of the first things a stranger notices. If we change your teeth, people might not recognize you anymore.” As xe spoke, a shit-eating grin wormed its way onto xyr lips. 

“Seriously, though, I’ll help, but you’ll have to pay me. It’s not a skillset I’ve needed to develop, so the payment will have to account for the relevant books, the acquisition of materials, the cycles of trial and error… my time’s not cheap, old man, and fixing your dentures is a long and boring project.”

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[DEAD EYE]

His body, his choice. That was right. Dead Eye did not expect to get rid of his eye anytime soon, nor did he see it popping or leaking fluids either. Vayu probably thought the same. "Will do," he replied dully.

The cheetah's sudden laugh startled him slightly. He crooked his head off to the side as he listened to the other, offering a chuff in return. "That may be for the best," the canine pointed out. Dead Eye used to seek out recognition and fortune, but he had long given that up since his life-changing injuries. Nowadays, he chose to stick to the caves or wander off elsewhere, rather than being bothered by other descendants. He already had the dead bothering him constantly, so why would he want more company?

Xyr shit-eating grin did put him off the idea though, especially after the mention of trial and error. Xanti did not seem too interested in the idea either. "If it isn't broke, don't fix it, I suppose." Considering how often the clay crumbled while he was eating, his dentures were sometimes broken, but it was nothing he could not fix. His mouth, on the other hand, was a different story. Xanti's method of 'fixing it' would be much harsher. The dentures provided a suitable solution without any associated pain.

Shifting back to the previous subject to avoid talking about his condition, he pointed a paw out towards the doctor curiously. "Have you come to pay your respects, Xanti?" His tone was slightly teasing and somewhat doubtful. Xanti showed up with no sacrifice and, unless they planned to give themselves away to the lava, Dead Eye doubted they were here to dedicate themselves to Vayu.

[XANTI]

the hardest thing to me is facing the fear i live

no one can help me now, it’s under my heart!

Xanti blinked thrice at Dead Eye. A slight grin as a thoughtful look in xyr golden eyes. In xyr mind, calculations on the question of what was a Dead Eye. Those barbs about personal appearance and boundary poking wouldn’t have received a chill reaction from most. Redirection to a known safe topic? Excellent conflict management, conflict deescalation skills.

Meteor would be interested in this sort of assessment. Not many Descendants had the right traits—or even the desire—to become an inquisitor, but having one alongside Vale for Vayu? That would hit the right chord with the balancing of creation and destruction after the volcano shook up the status quo.

Xanti tilted xyr head. Blinked and refocused on Dead Eye’s single usable eye. “Today, I’ll be sacrificing my most valuable thing to Vayu: my time.” A slight grin.

Personally, Xanti didn’t believe meditation (or, as xe liked to think of meditation, doing nothing) was a sacrifice. Watching xyr own mind as observer and observed, without judgment and with awareness… that was a daily practice which paid for itself with astonishing results. As a doctor who relied upon mental magics, Xanti found meditation invaluable.

Then a slight wavering of that smile. Maybe xe should dump xyr mother’s body into the lava pool. That bitch didn’t deserve reincarnation. But, well, that would draw weird attention from Dead Eye and the rest of the Descendants, wouldn’t it? Maybe xe’d just feed the bones to Vale. The inquisitor could shapeshift into a vulture that’d eat ‘em if xe asked.

Another blink. Then a shrug. “Time isn’t flingable into the lava pool, unfortunately, so who knows if Vayu appreciates my sacrifice… but, hey, I can’t compare myself to a paragon of piousness like yourself, Dead Eye.”

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