Surprisingly, he stared right at us with absolutely no emotion, then disappeared down the side passage. Only then did my brain processed what my eyes had seen — two nasty scars across his right cheekbone, all the way up to the brim of his hat. Scars that ran right through his…
“Damn…” I whispered.
“Did you see that, Elb? His face…”
“He’s blind,” I replied quietly. “I mean, wow! That’s amazing.”
“You think it’s amazing, goblin? Blow up and die! The guy’s blind! He has to feel his way around! I wonder where he’s going.”
“To work, of course.” I said, moving forward again. “Where else would he be going?”
“But he’s blind!”
“What else is he supposed to do? That’s right, he’s blind. Those scars look like claw marks. Something nasty happened to him. What options does he have? Starve to death? Sell himself to afford food? Beg at intersections for slimy, half-eaten food cubes? Or, even worse, for someone’s thick, beef-flavored spit? Or a little delicious snot?”
“Yuck! Shut up, Elb, that’s gross!”
“Not so loud.”
“What are you even saying?”
“Just telling it like it is. He didn’t have much choice — either beg and slowly wither away, or adapt and stay independent.” I continued in a softer tone. “Don’t freak out, goblin! What I’m trying to say is he’s doing great. I mean, did you see how he moves around and finds his way?”
“Speaking of which… How does he even find his way without a stick? Isn’t he supposed to have, like, a white cane to tap the floor and the walls with?”
“He chose a different strategy. He has all his limbs. He moves without hesitating, and doesn’t make any mistakes, so he must know the route by heart. Hmm…”
“What?”
“I don’t think he’s completely blind.”
“What? Those scars went right through his eyes!”
“His eye.” I amended. “We couldn’t see the second one. I bet it’s still there, just badly damaged. But I’m sure it works at least a little.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The system messages,” I explained. After a moment, Yorka slowly nodded as understanding hit her. I added: “Unless they get sent straight to our brains.”
“I get it. The messages… He must be able to see them to get his daily jobs.”
The messages popped up in front of our eyes… At least as far as I could tell.
“It used to be a topic of some pretty heated arguments. Lots of yelling and fighting,” Yorka added, breathing on the back of my shoulder while I looked carefully around the next corner. “Screaming, bloody noses, faces hitting the tables! Goddamn goblins. They argued ‘til they were hoarse about whether your brain or your eyes get the messages. But that’s all settled now, and they don’t argue anymore. What do you think?”
“I think we should find a totally blind person. Like, someone without eyes at all. And ask him about the system interface. Then we’ll know.”
“Ugh…” Yorka shivered. “Mother save us! Anything but the eyes! I’d rather lose both my legs than my eyes! You’re right, though. There was this goblin who lost both his eyes, and he stopped getting system messages. He was a solid goblin, even made it to orc sometimes. But when he lost his eyes, he became a zombie almost immediately, and then eventually a worm. When he got his last limb cut off, he went crazy. He’d just lying on a bench all day long, laughing his head off. Then his laughs turned into weird gurgling sounds, and then he died. I didn’t see it — I did my best to stay away from that path so I didn’t have to see that blind, cackling stump of a man…”
“Interesting.” I stopped. “That’s really important information. Thank you.”
“Did you miss the part about the mad worm and how badly he suffered?”
“The past is gone for good.” I looked at my partner. “We can’t help him. The smart thing to do now is to forget about it. Look to the future, goblin, don’t look back! Figuratively, of course. You should look back when you’re in these dark hallways.”
“I get it. I’m not that dumb! Screw you and your figures of speech. Why’s that information so important, anyway?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “At least not yet. Shh! Get down!”
I pulled at her arm and crouched down, staring forward attentively.
