Send me a “💭“ and your Muse will experience one of my Muse’s Memories
Perhaps somewhere in her many lives, she had experienced a total lack of sight. Not a darkness exactly, but a backdrop on which Lee Sin’s other senses painted his perception of the world. His mind then had been much more fixated on the wind that buffeted his body, the sway of an unsteady surface under one foot, and the sound of a dry mouth as the smack of his lips bounced around inside his skull. There was nerves rumbling about his system, yet with arms defiantly crossed against his chest he wasn’t about to show them outwardly.
“I don’t know if I can do it, Master.” The voice of a young man rung out, and in its travel highlighted how much nothing surrounded the Monk. He stood in what vaguely appeared like a field of poles, yet their stakes in the ground were so far below that the sound of a voice never bounced back to his ears. The owner of the words seemed familiar to the Master, his brow falling heavy behind his symbolic wraps.
“If I can do it,” A swift, calculated stride took Lee to the air, only the vaguest memory of the next pole guiding his foot fall. Immediately upon having to re-balance himself against the subtle sway, his heart rose high into his throat. Thank the Dragon, thank the Dragon, thank the Dragon, “then you can do it. I trust your bravery. Why would we call you the Scales of our Dragon if not for your strengths?”
“What if I fall?” The young man sounded out, still an uncertain warble to his voice.
“I will catch you.” He replied without thinking of how he’d do it. In truth, he was internally unsure about all of this, but felt the power of his commitment was more pressing than his ability to execute on it, “The goal is not to succeed. It’s just to try. From one side to the other. Or here, and back. You only need to try.”
Silence. Unsettling moments left with his own thoughts, and his own sounds, unable to hear his acolyte for the minutia of his stance. He waited, keenly aware of the sweat behind a wrapped brow, anticipating another spoken protest. Instead, on the fringes of his hearing, he heard the sound of foot to wood. Tucking in his jaw, he turned an ear towards the earnest effort made to jump, land, and then recover from the thrill of any single leap.
“Good.” He said, voice restrained as to not distract from the lesson at hand. After the sounds of an uneasy form came into focus, he heard a strange impact that seemed to steal all air from his student’s lungs.
“Dragon... Spirit.” He wheezed out, and immediately Lee bounded a couple of poles over to be as near as he could, “G-Guh… It’s… so far down?”
“I would not know.” Lee replied immediately, the cutting tone stealing a pained breath from the teen, “Are you on your stomach? Find your center…”
“Don’t panic. Look at me.”
“Mmh…” It was hard to tell, given how much his ears wanted to focus on the boy’s unsteady breaths, and lurching heart. In fact, the whole situation rung painfully short of his perceptions, yet the facade of control remained,
“You made the jump. Now is not the time to panic. You’re stable, just feel it. Feel how much area you have under you. It’s enough to sit. Sit with me.” In demonstration, he made the careful transition from a stand to a cross-legged seat, all under the power of one foot. All the while, thudding against his memory, was all the times he himself had slipped and fallen, and the frantic grasps and climbs he’d made for safety. Today, he could at least instill some sense of calm when he had otherwise found himself completely lost, “You are most of the way. If something bad happens, I am here.”
“Okay, okay…” The Scales mumbled to himself, continuing to vocalize as he shuffled and tested his strength. Eventually, in some strained maneuver beyond any form he knew, the acolyte managed to find himself upright, “O-Okay..!” At the last, Lee smiled, especially as the boy’s legs seemed to dangle freely as his heels thudded against the wood, “I didn’t fall… Good!”
“Good.” Lee nodded, “You did it, and you did it yourself.”
“Enjoy it… because you’re still going to have to stand up yet, and make your way back.”
“Oh… Why’d you have to remind me, Master? Can we just sit here all day?”
“It’s either that, or you and I will have to climb down these poles and scale the cliffs.”
“I’ll… think about it.” The acolyte said, and his master couldn’t help but laugh. It was the first time Lee felt his heart finally slow to a reasonable beat, “It’s actually nice up here, once you get over the… hundred-foot drop?”
Quiet victories seemed to resound in the monk’s mind over any other contentment, especially when he extended a hand his student could barely meet with his own fingertips. The slightest touch, but an acknowledgement of a task well done.
