#Now I just have to work out how to approach people for RP loooool X_x

[yi-dashi]

The Smoke Burned Black Over Bahrl

— two.

“You were wearing them upside down, you know.”

For a moment, the words washed over Yi as he tried to make himself comfortable. Though the smooth outcrop was wide enough for two to sit, it didn’t make the wind any less intimidating up so high.

“Huh..?”

“The Seven Lenses of Insight. A simple mistake. I was thinking of mounting them in a helmet, even if that’s a quaint solution.”

“Oh. Ah…” He pulled the bulky piece of machinery over his head, his amethyst eyes taking in its peculiarities before he set it upon his lap, “It doesn’t seem to work less, whether you wear it one way or the other.”

“And what do you see with them, Young Master?”

For whatever reason the curt question stuck into him, steeling his face against the view of the world below. A world so vast and distant that it plucked against the strings of his imagination. The joy of the unknown was there, though so too was the terror of things he would never know, now they were engulfed in flame. Out there lay the guilt of being able to fight, and the anguish of people who could not.

“Vulnerability.” Yi offered, though his uncertain tone betrayed his forced cordiality.

“Interesting,” Doran took his thick, braided beard in his hand, “I would have thought you’d say, ‘Well honestly, Master Doran, out there I see my distain for authority, and I’ve about broken all the teapots that Wuju has to offer at this point.’ Something like that.”

“Master.” The then student bit the inside of his cheek, quashing any outbursts before they had a chance to fly, “… It’s more than that. You know it’s more than that.”

“Do I? Are you claiming to know the function of my mind?”

“That… You—”

“— Though, I suppose I can’t know the function of your mind either, and that’s certainly been a puzzle.” Yi took a half breath to quip something back, but his Elder merely raised his voice over anything he tried to say, “What I really want to know, then, is what you’ll see once you’re down there, and you look up this way. Will you see a future up here, or will the smoke blind you to anything but the present?”

Yi’s brow unwound. Agitation became confusion. He’d never heard any of his Masters misspeak, or at the very least say something without clear intent behind every word. But the implication of being down in the faraway lands one day, or any day,

“… What do you mean, ‘When I’m down there?’ ”

“I’ve known you for every moment of your life, Yi. In fact, I’ve known your mother for every moment of her life, and her father, and even his mother. I’ve known a Yi for as long as I’ve been here, and I know the spirit behind the name.” Against all the seriousness of his façade, and the statuesque property of his stance, the Master broke character for just a moment. He looked at Yi out the corner of his eye, his lips pursing for a moment, “A Yi never makes a good Wuju student, because a Yi is somehow honour bound to their sense of adventure. That’s why the Yi family are our bladesmiths, and the entertainers of our Lowlander guests. That’s why they aren’t Wuju students.”

“But I am.” Yi blurted out, to which Doran equally exclaimed,

“I know, yet I’m sure your spirit has already decided what you want. You’ve already made up your mind, yet the Wuju student is here in my loft. The Wuju Student breaks in. He skirts the rules, and is generally miserable. You’re trying your hardest to fulfill your spirit while maintaining Wuju law. You can’t do both, Young Master. You’ve made an utter fool of yourself over these last weeks.”

The agitation crept back. Yi almost jumped off his stool, ready to shout back with a red-hot temper, but caught himself with clenched fists. If anything, it was the way the lenses clunked against their casings that alerted him to his ire. Somehow, the rhythmic adjusting brought him back down, and he could take his breaths in step with them. That wasn’t to say he didn’t feel attacked, but he at least took time to break down the feeling. His Master seemed to return to his previous state by the time he opened his mouth again. Unfeeling and distant; who was he to talk about one’s duty and one’s spirit?

“Why are you talking like I’m not forbidden from stepping a foot off this mountain? It’s not as if I have a choice to do what’s right. None of this matters.”

“You’re right.” Doran replied with a slight shrug, “This mountain is surely guarded at all hours by the hundreds of Wuju Masters we certainly have.”

“What?”

“The Masters we hide away, of course. Those ones that will physically draw a sword against you to enforce our decree.”

“Why are you…” Yi shook his head, “… What?”

“There’s this one delusion you hold, that’s stopping you from thinking clearly about all the options laid before you. Consider it a moment, then tell me when you understand. I’d rather see you thinking critically – making the right choice from a reasoned standpoint – than hiding behind arguably fake ultimatums. It can be damned what any of us Master say. What we say, and reality, are different, aren’t they?”

And Yi took his time as the gale whipped up from the swell below. The iron boxes out to sea inched closer, and the fires still burned, and people still suffered some unimaginable crisis. He took in the continuing disaster so far away, and he searched for some hidden command or lesson. Yet, the longer he thought, the more it seemed so simple.

“No one is to stop me,” He muttered to himself, “if I venture down the mountain? No one is to actually chain me, or fight me, if I try?”

“Congratulations, Young Master. You have remembered the very function of this School. Words above all other solutions, and action as less than a last resort. Anyone who stands against you is just as bad as you are.” Yi didn’t see the Master’s hand lash out, but he felt the sting when the Craftsman’s grasp wrapped around his wrist. The pain stole his gaze, and his eyes widened as they locked with the Old Master’s, “So stop using words as an excuse to act out. I’m tired of you shouting from templetops, and self-harming through tribunal punishment. You’re a Wuju Bladesman, at least right now, with a Wuju sense of mind. You know you have a choice to stay, or to go. Your choices are yours, but don’t pretend like this, or any of your stunts, are accomplishing anything. Indecision aids no cause but one that disrupts you, me, and all other disciples.”

Yi dared not try to break the grip, in part for fear of falling to his death, but also because of the sensation that he deserved it. Pinpricks shot up and down his fingers, but that was little against the unknowable expression of his mentor. Something akin to frustration, but with a note of sadness below the surface. He supposed he must have been looking into a mirror. Frustrated sadness was a good way to describe how he’d felt up until this moment. The feeling was slowly lifting however, replaced instead with what felt like… begrudging empowerment? Who could even know how to feel, in times like this?

“So, I’ll ask you again.” Doran continued, his calloused hand slipping away from Yi’s wrist, “Slowly, this time: When, or if, you go down there, will you see a future anywhere? Surely right now you can see your future down there, but what about once that future is your present? What then? Would you rather be assured in a future here, or uncertain in a future down below?”

“… I’d rather do what I think is right.” This time, Yi let the first thought out his mouth that came to mind, regardless of if he felt it ill considered. If he couldn’t explain away what he felt because he’d been ordered not to feel it, then he could only offer his heart, “Whether there’s a future in it is not a factor for me. I look down there, and I see a problem. I will look up here, and Wuju will continue on without me, as it has always done. The time to plan the rest of my life is after hard work is done, whether Wuju is a part of it or not. Who else is going to do it?”

“That’s stupid,” The Artificer sighed, “but it’s something Yi Hui would say, isn’t it? This School is too amoral and timeless for you. You’re just like your mother, eh?”

“The present is the only time we can take action. I cannot change the past, and the future is the sum of too many working parts to perfectly predict. You should understand that better than anyone.”

“I’ll not argue analogy with you at length, because I’m getting cold and we’ll be here all day. All I can say is that a machine with unknowable parts is not a machine, but an abomination. Reality has knowable parts, and can be known in all ways. Even if they are the function of mind, which I’ve yet to find all the working parts in. Just because you’re not aware of the parts, doesn’t mean they can’t be known eventually.”

“Absolute awareness in all things…”

“Including awareness of the things you can do wrong in this life, so that you won’t do them.” The desperation of the last comment had Yi cocking an eyebrow. Yet Doran was still and considered in his presentation, and rose from his stool with the same collected poise, “Doing something, while knowing there will be a negative gain for you, is idiotic. Gallantry, by nature, is one sided, because once you surrender to it there’s never an end. That’s not even beginning to consider the sanctity of what you know, and what should be done with it.”

“Master Doran.” He too stood tall, as his wind-spun hair flew about his face, “I’m so sorry, but I cannot agree with that. I understand what you are saying, but I can’t bring myself to agree.”

“Then I’ve said my piece. You know that the choice is binary. No more of this mucking about. Make your choice and live with it…”

“Yes, Master.” With a sombre dip of his back, Yi offered the last bow he could imagine giving to any of his teachers. As he bent down, he held the lenses in both hands towards their craftsman. Instead of feeling the weight lift, he heard the pad of Doran’s feet against the stone,

“Keep them, and go. I made them for you, anyway. You’ll find the helmet for them somewhere amongst the mess you’ve made. I also suggest you don’t be seen in the catacombs, if you’ve taken anything I’ve said to heart.”

Stunned, Yi merely hunched there for a moment. Eventually, he stared at the goggles as they looked back at him, ticking still. He thought it might have been a test, so it seemed right to set them down and go. But he stared, and so did they. They’d been party to the discussion, and seemed to know what he truly felt. Truly a Doran’s craft, so he put them around his neck once more. Giving one last glance to the smoke, burning black in the sky, he turned on his heels and walked back into the mountain.

Get a helmet, commission his parents for armour, and live for the present.