Dr Blights’ Calling

Few possessed a nobler soul than Blight, the kindly village doctor who faced the Black Death's grim arrival with tireless compassion. While others fled in terror as the plague erupted, Blight alone had the courage to care for the suffering despite the risks.

When the first victims emerged covered in sinister boils, raving with fever dreams, Blight vowed to help all those afflicted. He knew his medical skills could ease their pain, at least for now.

Donning a protective mask, Blight made his rounds to homes and hovels where the stricken were quarantined. His mask spared him from breathing the contamination as he examined and treated each patient.

Through chilling nights, Blight stayed up mashing herbs for tonics to lower fevers and sedating those riddled with agonizing swellings. As death crept through door after door, Blight remained steadfast. His hands did not tremble when closing the eyes of weeping children now at peace.

But the Black Death spared none, striking indiscriminately. After weeks of exposure, Blight awoke to find himself covered in the gruesome rash, his skin blackened by lesions. The mask could not hold back the plague from claiming its next victim.

Yet even wracked with merciless pain, Blight's only concern was for the townspeople who still needed him. Each morning he donned his mask and with feeble strength continued on his rounds. He worked diligently until the last patient left under his care recovered.

It was only then, his duty fulfilled, that Blight relinquished his fight at long last. They found him slumped quietly over his desk, mask in place, the candle finally extinguished. A healer until the end.

But Blight's kindly spirit could not abandon the people he had served so devotedly. Soon after the funeral, villagers began witnessing a ghostly figure drifting through the streets. The spectre's hands still clutched medicine bags, ready to assist the ailing.

Drawing nearer, they saw it was Blight, pale as ever but with the left side of his face seemingly consumed by inky shadows - the plague's scars etched into his ghostly form. And his mask remained fastened, a testament to his tireless crusade against the outbreak.

Those desperate for salvation rejoice upon glimpsing Blight's ghost, knowing help has come again. Though medicine could not save his own life, in death Blight has returned once more to battle sickness alongside the people he gave everything to protect. Where illness persists, his healing hands follow.