[imgright]http://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/image ... uncert.png[/imgright]Guide us in the Darkness
There has always been a lead sight. Since the time of our early ancestors there has always been one who tirelessly patrols our borders, protects our way of life, and keeps us all safe. Who chooses and trains only a few to join him in this noble calling, and who's heart is steadfast and true. It is a tradition passed down only to the worthy. To those who face the darkness and prove themselves. Now it is your turn. Your mother has seen you into the forest, to a place few dare to tread, and she has left you to face yourself. To face your own inner darkness and either overcome it or be utterly consumed by it. As you are left on your own you suddenly lose your sight.
You are blind in the darkness. It envelopes you, cloaks you, and whispers into your ear softly. "Why are you worthy to see?" The cryptic question fills you with dread and confusion as you stumble blindly onward into the night. The night wind is surprisingly warm against your pelt though the icy grip of fear causes you to shiver despite yourself. You are so young, so green to the world, and this invisible entity is overpowering as it fills your senses and toys with your vulnerabilities. "What makes you strong enough to protect us all? To guide our warriors?" It hisses, covering your gaze with an impregnable veil of nothingness. Can you shake your fear? Can you convince it as to why you deserve to become the head of The Midnight Eyes? So few are chosen to take up the mantle of Lead Sight but, should you prove yourself, the honor of Sight may soon be yours.
The colt stands in the dark and listens as his mother’s footsteps seem to fade and melt into the darkness, until he is utterly alone in the black. The silence feels thick and heavy, at first, as if it might be trying to suffocate him and he shivers, hunched down by instinct to make himself small. He is not big and strong, yet, like his mother or the other adults in the tribe, after all, but he had agreed to this trial, even if he hadn’t entirely been prepared for what it would mean.
He is alone. Alone with himself. The only things he can hear are his own breaths and the slight crunch of leaves beneath his feet when he shifts, and the slight sound that water makes as it splashes over leaves. It’s begun to rain. Not heavily, but steadily. A light drizzle that further dampens any sound he might have otherwise been able to hear. Even the cicadas are quiet.
Finally, he begins to move forward, and the questions he’d been asked earlier seem to spring to his mind, and he hears them as if they are truly there.
He is not sure if he is worthy, or strong enough, or capable of leading those who consider themselves to be warriors. He is only a colt, still, just beginning to fill out into the buck he will one day be. But, he knows he must try, and must be brave, and look beyond himself to the future and to what’s important. That’s what it means to be one of the members of the White Crane Tribe.
They look out for one another, and for those who need their help.
As he thinks about this, Born Again’s steps become more confident, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.
That’s right, he thinks. We must be strong for those who cannot be strong, and lead them onto the correct path. In helping others, we become stronger for it.
Surely, that had to mean something? He keeps walking. The trees whip his face in the darkness, despite how he tries to avoid them. He stumbles, and falls, and bruises his shins - -but he keeps going. He keeps going be cause this is not the end, only a journey like the journeys of so many who come to them -- lost, blind, shrouded in darkness, heart-heavy and weary and bruised. Like them, he will find a way out.
Eventually, the sun begins to rise and as it does, so does his determination and his spirits. This is what it means to walk in darkness without knowing the way.
Finally, he makes his way back to the tribe, and looks into the faces of those who had sent him on his way -- and looks into his mother’s eyes, and the eyes of those who had asked him the questions -- and he answers:
“I will help them. I will lead those who are strong enough and brave enough to put others before themselves… What we have here is worth protecting, and it’s worth fighting for. I struggled to find myself in the darkness, to search myself for the right answers, but perhaps there is no single right answer. We must all do what we can to be good to one another and to those who seek our help. We are stronger together. That’s all I can say.”
With that, Born Again bows his head slightly, and then turns to walk back to his little den to nurse the cuts and scrapes and bruises he’s sustained -- and to sleep. Whether or not he is worthy will be decided, he thinks. If he’s not, well… that’s okay, too.
