A Soulscaper’s Misery

[Inspired by: What it Takes to Fly by Yuumei, (a super inspiring artist who I recommend checking out) I added a link in the comments.]

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One chain. Two chains. Three.

“Wow, Meiyuu, how are you doing that?”

Little Avi gaped at his master and the birds swooping around her. Their colours and fragrance, their formations and feathers, her control of it all, it was enchanting. Each bird was a pearl of white with streaks of pink and green, yellow and blue, there were other colours too. All bright and refreshing, and Little Avi was mesmerized whole-heartedly.

Meiyuu stood at the centre of a glass, vast pedestal, each petal a symmetrical net of ornate designs sprouting away from her feet. The platform gave the impression of delicacy and defiance; Hubris’s peak. It was a meditation circle of sorts, atop a stained glass temple; The Temple of Dreams, hanging above the mist of the city. A place always graced by warmth and sunlight. A gentle, sparkly hue...

Meiyuu seemed to glow atop this platform, like she was a goddess flying above the rest. And like everybody else, Little Avi admired her. He sat by her feet, like a child watching a magic show. Her poise had the grace of a contemporary dancer set to slow motion. She held her hand out in the air as if picking an apple from a tree that wasn't there, and the birds—the beautiful, colourful birds—flew in sequence around.

Four, five, six chains threatening to drag her down.

She twirled with the shadow of a smile, like a sigh on her face, while her eyes held the sky's blue. Her irises carved through by immense loads of power, as though she'd trained for centuries to do what she did. And the work of a Soulscaper was taxing indeed.

She was not centuries old; not even one; not even half as young. But the expectations and formalities her days required of her; the gruelling hours took upon by a soul-guider, it gave her this appearance. It gave her this stage.

It ripped and gnawed at her back like a bird stripped down by its cage.

She had not lived centuries of life, she'd witnessed it. She'd peered into minds and spirits alike, seen the paths of souls falling apart. Her job was to build them back up, sometimes out of a broken heart, just as she'd guided birds to fly. She strung their souls, entwined them to her dreams and set them free. Uplifting, inspiring, her work begets healing.

Ten, eleven, twelve wounds, bleeding.

She really was magical. It was not just for show. To be on a pedestal is to be vulnerable, susceptible. Meiyuu behaved as though she were nothing special. That did not stop her from seeming untouchable. Navy black hair swept by the breeze, pale porcelain skin neglected by the sun's ease.

Little Avi swayed and hummed, caressed by her silent song when he perked up:

“How do you make the birds listen to you?”

'With broad brush strokes of my blood.'

Her smile was her answer. At times, words were too much. The weight placed on each syllable could feel like a strap and a buckle without touch. Her apprentice didn't mind.

"How long will I have to train to be like you?" he cried.

"Endlessly,"

Painfully. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen shackles and then you'll see.

This, she said. Dark spirits tore them out of her head. Meiyuu corrected her tone, "you will get there, it just takes time."

A sacrificial climb.

A scraped soul.

It was a path she was hesitant to teach.

The job of a soulscaper was taxing indeed.

Others saw pretty birds...

She felt the raking of their feet.