Diary of a Rogue (3)

Part III:

Two days later Rassa was sitting in an Inn in Southshore, listening to a minstrel playing a tune on her flute to the delight of those around him. His concentration, however, was on the book sitting on the table in front of him. His fence had refused to buy it since he had stolen it from a warlock and it was too dangerous to try and sell. Or so he said.

Rassa had tried many different ways to read it, under different colored lights, by moonlight, by starlight, and even by rubbing lemon juice to try to bring out any hidden writing. All to no avail. The whole thing was beginning to give him one large stabbing headache. Here he was sitting on something that was probably a once in a lifetime find, well a once in a lifetime steal anyway, and he had no way of selling it or reading it.

He closed his good eye in frustration and was so startled that he nearly fell backwards out of the wooden chair. He could see the page clearly. He could make out the smooth, neatly written common script as plain as day through his blinded eye! He could make out the writing and see it through his empty socket without even concentrating. When he opened his good eye it disappeared.

What kind of magic was this where only the blind could read the writing therein? No wonder mages more intelligent then he could not figure out how to read it. For the first time in his life he felt truly lucky for losing his eye. He now possessed a skill that could make him rich.