(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

I thought it over, I really did. But hells, if it was a piece of my past I couldn't
afford to be stingy, "It's a deal. Here's your money."
"It's a deal." He produced a darkened, wax-stoppered, wide-mouth bottle
from his pocket. There was the sound of liquid sloshing around inside it,
along with a heavier, squishier noise. Opening it, the stench of some sort of
preservative agent nearly made me gag... Powers above this damn city
should sell more nose-clips and perfumes. Floating in the viscid muck was an
eyeball.
"You'd better figure out what you want to do with that..." the barkeep said
sagely, "now you've exposed it to the air, you might as well put a pickled egg
in the jar for all the good it'll do you. Make up your mind, cutter... pickled
egg or not?"
With a moment's hesitation, I reached into my socket and popped my eye
into the palm of my hand. The pain was incredible. My vision distorted, and
for a moment I was slightly overwhelmed with a sense of vertigo as my
plucked-out eye pointed in an odd direction, the two images I read not quite
blending cohesively. The bartender helpfully severed the optic nerve, and
directed my hand to the jar of goo that sat on the bar. I deposited my
still-living eye in the preservative, wrapped my fingers around the old one,
and slid it into my empty socket.
~~~~~
With one finger I dug the ash from my empty socket, and it fell down my
cheek in flakes. The preserved eye wriggled in my grip with new life. The
optic nerve slid back in as if eager to return home, and I hissed in pain as the
world flashed into vision once again. A quick surge of energy filled me, the
bit of latent strength that the eye once held returning as it reattached. I
snapped a charcoal charm for good measure, and the heat around me
seemed to settle painlessly like the embers of a dying fire.
Ignus didn't expect me to come barreling through the flames so soon.
The skin of my arms blistered as I held them up to protect my face. My
charred lungs strained to drink in the air, and my head felt packed full of
wool at the lack of it. I strained to focus, sheathing myself in blades of ice as
I charged. Finally, I dropped my arm. My vision was still foggy with the flow
of preservative, but I could see the shock on Ignus' face when I was no more
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