An ageing doctor hurriedly entered the room, the soft material of his shirt wrapped around his slightly sagging shoulders and his pristine white coat trailed flapped behind him. His balding head reflected the light like a mirror, and it was this glaring reflection that woke Vance up.
"Young Master! Please don't strain yourself", The doctor ordered.
"I'm fine", Vance murmured through a wince. The Doctor could tell at once that he was anything but fine.
"You don't have to create false bravado in front of me young master, you had a mighty injury. Quite frankly, this is one of the worst injuries I've seen in a while, and it is remarkable you are even able to have a coherent conversation with me yet.", The doctor's friendly but stern tone warned Vance not to argue.
"What happened? I knew I hit my head on the floor, I remember that, but why can't I remember why I fell?" Vance seemed distressed, his words coming out in a flurry.
"Regretfully I must say I'm not quite sure young master, when you were admitted the only visible damage was to the back of your head where you fell. However, I have one concern and one I tell you despairingly; originally we were under the assumption the blood around your eye area was due to your head injury, but then I realised that you were not turned around when we retrieved you from your manor. I apologise for this young master but if my assumption is correct I believe you are suffering from the same ailment your father had.", The doctor's dark, woody brown eyes did not stray from him the entire time he was relaying the said news. "I apologise for being pessimistic but seeing as how you're now a young adult I thought it would be best to be transparent with you. Hopefully I am wrong, but I'm concerned that bleeding from the eyes was one of your father initial symptoms and from the limited research we conducted we believe it was hereditary but remains dormant until a trigger. Although, once again, we are unsure what this trigger is."
"How long did my father have until the other symptoms began to show?" Vance questioned, forcing a faint smile.
"Don't despair yet young master, I still need to run some premilitary test to confirm", the doctor attempted to pick up the mood.
"How long." Vance gritted through gnashed teeth.
The doctor's face fell, "2 days." he remarked mournfully, "After the second symptom appeared, your father gained symptoms around every 12 hours before he ultimately passed by the 4th day".
"Fuck."
A singular tear ran down Vance cheek, it was burning hot and sticky and left a trail of crimson down his face. He could tell immediately that this wasn't the same tears he had had as a child when he would fall over playing and his mother would pick him up and kiss his knee better; these were the tears of his father's disease, the tears of those marked to be hated by the Gods.
"Young master I'm afraid we will have to hurry as if you do have your father disease we will need to try to treat it as fast a possible", the doctor interrupted Vance's spiral into despairing over his current condition. " I'll be back in a short moment.", the doctor turned and wandered out the room, leaving Vance alone with his thoughts.
Vance stared upward, his eyes tracing the intricate and ornately tiled ceiling. Before he could begin his moment of respite, the doctor burst back in the room. His breath was heavy and his brow slightly damp; Vance realised that the man must have run to try to gather the necessary equipment possible for the test.
"Thank you -uh", Vance paused awkwardly, clearly indicating to the man he wished to know his name.
"Doctor Tarvk", the man quickly replied, obviously trying to quell the small talk to get on with his work. He pulled out a scalpel, the shiny blade glinted in the light.
"What's the scalpel for?", Vance chuckled nervously. Doctor Tarvk reached across the bed, pushing the tiny but sharp blade closer to his face. Vance pulled away, terrified at the thought of what the test was.
"Please, young master, it's for your own good; if I'm correct, you won't even feel anything.", Doctor Tarvk gave Vance a pleading look. Vance slowly nodded in response, appalled at the idea of an object that sharp being even remotely near his eye. The blade lightly pulled across his eye, a moment of pause occurred, both wishing that blood would begin to drip down from the cut. Vance moved his hand toward his face, rubbing the cut with his finger. He pulled his hand away, slowly searching his finger for any traces of blood.
"I'm sorry young master, the most we can do now is try to find a way to slow down the effects of the illness", for the first time that day Doctor Tarvk looked truly solemn.
"What's happening to me?", Vance's voice cracked.
Doctor Tarvk turned to Vance and his faced morphed into an even more serious expression, "Your father was the only case of this disease I know of. I'll try my hardest for you, young master, but I'm not sure how much I can do."
"What's happening to me?", Vance's voice pleaded for an explanation, his shock evident as he repeated his question.
"You, young master, are the second to ever have the eye of glass."