RP:Tea for Wounded Voices
Summary: A couple of days have passed since the battle that rendered Kanna voiceless. Upon receiving a letter from her, a familiar monk comes to her aid to help restore her voice, and try to find the real reason why she stays distant.
Kanna sat on the edge of the bed, tears quietly streaming down her face as she waited for Bastion to come. That is, if he was able to understand her shaky handwriting with her barely healed hand. Self-healing was usually reserved for scratches and bruises, never did she try to mend broken bones, or acid-eaten vocal chords. The sound of footsteps alerted her to the door and she looked over, giving a raspy sob at the sight of the healer. She held up a piece of paper with shaky words on it: "Can you fix my voice?!"
Bastion found himself dismayed to the extreme at the extents to which the tournament champions went to win their victories... it was a wonder they almost always survived, even in a world of magical healing. Bastion moved swiftly through the room, starting by first setting his small pack down, and pulling a needle out of a bracelet, sticking it in the back of Kanna's neck. There, no pain, just like that. All of her pain would fade to numbness and minor irritation, while he scrutinized her wounds with eyes that didn't need to look directly at any of it. "Dear gods, Kanna. I hope it was worth it, dear heart." He'd kiss her on the forehead, then sit next to her. "Your throat's injuries will take some time to heal, through only my means. Erosion of the sensitive tissues can be more quickly mended through magic, and I will summon a trustworthy friend to help with that, a priest. Along with my acupuncture, I believe you'll find that your voice will be more... resilient against such things in the future. Endurance training such as this is markedly effective with the proper application of Ki techniques. Here, take your clothes off, and lay down on your stomach. I'm going to be using a few longer needles than usual, though you won't feel a thing, I promise."
Kanna tensed at the sight of the first needle, opening her mouth to protest, but of course giving none. The soreness of the various bruises and hairline fractures all over her from Rorin's attacks subsided, and she visibly relaxed. At his fretting for her visible wounds, she motioned up and down with her good hand, fingers extended and palm facing down as if to say 'those are fine, it's fine.' At his insistence, she disrobed and laid down, though reluctantly. Bastion was one of the few men she only recently did not fear being vulnerable with. Perhaps being in this continent was changing her fears. She took the page and flipped it over, adding, "I have so much to tell you since the Yuletide Ball." Clearly in pain as she wrote, for the fingers of her right hand were still swollen and discolored, but she showed him the note with a smile.
Bastion arched a brow at the note, and shook his head. "No need to keep writing. I'll make things easier on you, just relax." A few more needles in her back, and she didn't have any choice... she would find her muscles going slack, her heartbeat slowing, her eyelids growing heavy. Her pains were gone, and soon, all she felt was restful, peaceful contentment. Not a needle was felt... Bastion was giving her a hefty treatment, targeting her intestines as well as her spine, to dig into her Ki channels and help hurry along her healing. She'd feel a gentle probing on her mind, and though it wasn't quite in words, she'd feel his presence there, his thoughts. The communication they'd share was intimate, sending emotions more than ideas, but it served as a mode of telepathy. "Now, show me that which you wish to show," he'd urge her, like a patient parent, their comforting warm hand on her head, promising love and safety, without need to fear judgement or rejection.
Kanna felt like she was floating after a while of the acupuncture therapy she had so feared before. The sensation of Bastion being within her thoughts was unusual, but she attributed it more to the dreamlike trance she was in. Her memories began to replay, of her time with an avian that she had become infatuated with, how the morning after their conversation at the Yule Ball, she tried to reject him to protect herself, and how he had seen right through the cold words. Bastion would see the memory she retold to that man, of a smaller version of herself stumbling through a dark forest, gasping sobs giving away her location to her pursuers, of the kiss of a dryad that took pity on her, and of how her fear twisted the gift of nature's protection into a weapon.
Bastion watched her story unfold with an inscrutable gaze, as he worked. It was when she addressed her fears, that he smiled. Fear was... an important thing to address. The source of all our ills, so to speak. He'd swim with her through memories and visions, highlighting those fears, big and small, and slowly guiding her through them, holding her hand all the way. Those who hunted her, rejection, the consequences of those fears. They always seemed to large in the moment, but here with him, watching them from beyond her own body, they'd seem smaller, much smaller. He'd show her that separating herself from her fears allowed her to look at them objectively, to see just how big or small they really were... and more importantly, that by doing so, she could address them much better. They were all smaller, then. Hopefully, this new perspective would help her to overcome her fears, somewhat... to learn to maintain better self control, even in the face of terrible danger, and especially in the face of the little things that nibbled at the edges of her mind.
Kanna scrunched her nose slightly as Bastion tried to comfort her. Admittedly, it helped some, and she was able to distance herself more from that event, but the recall brought back another memory, one that she actively tried not to think of. Though they had distanced themselves from the memory, seeming to be looking at them from a distance, suddenly they were back at ‘’that’’ place. Kanna stared in horror once again at the soiled feet dangling just inches from the floor, just above the hidden panel in the floor that hid something precious. Before more information could be garnered, Bastion would feel himself rejected from her mind. "Don't want to think about that." She mumbled sleepily, her voice still hoarse.
Bastion watched her recoil from the memory, and frowned. She shouldn't be able to feel such horror, not now. Ah, well. Stranger things happened in these lands. He watched, though. He watched with an impassive eye, perhaps accustomed to such horrors. She rejected it from her mind, and he left it as well, to let her slip back into something more comfortable, while he worked. It wasn't good for her therapy for her to close herself off, so he made sure she stayed in a peaceful, restful state. Her flesh would begin its slow process of healing, and growing stronger, more resilient, while Bastion called in another healer to work upon her while she rested. All in all, it'd only be an hour before he had her awoken, needles gone and being dressed. "The state of restfulness will last up to a week, and most of your injuries are better... not so much thanks to me as to a traveling priest of Cyrus. Be gentle on your throat, though... it might take a little longer for your voice to return to its proper sound, though you should be able to speak, regardless. It was a... cruel thing your foe did to you."
She still seems to be in that dreamy state once the needles are out and she is redressed. She shakes her head softly as her eyes watch his hands as he packs up his equipment. "Not my opponent who hurt my voice... There was a poison in the air during the fight, but I had to keep singing... It all worked out though..." Her voice is soft, almost at whispering levels. There is a pause, then she wipes at her eyes. "That day in Larket, when you were attacked... I'm so sorry for snapping at you."
Bastion looked at Kanna, puzzled. "There is no need for apology. I take no offense." His words might seem strange, but only because they were as they were spoken, even if it sounded impossible. He sat on the floor, then, cross legged. "Kanna, will you sit with me? I ordered tea. They're using a special blend, one of my own. I'd love it if you'd join me for a cup." He seemed fine with sitting on the bare floor. Really, there wasn't much that made him uncomfortable.
Kanna tilts her head curiously at the comment. Of course, he was far too kindhearted to take offense. She gives a shake of the head. "Felt like I should still say it." With a befuddled look at how he sits on the floor so casually, she for some reason is reminded of a distant time. That's right, did they not also sit on floor cushions over a bamboo mat during tea time? With a nod, she takes two of the pillows from the bed and sits on one, handing the other out for him to take. Whether uncomfortable or not, she seems adamant in how she holds it out that he allow himself this trivial comfort.
Bastion looks at the pillow as she hands it to him, and smiles. "There is no need." If she continued to insist, he'd tell her, "Look closer." If she looked, she'd find he wasn't sitting on the floor at all. He was sitting a scant inch above it, and only his clothes touched the floor beneath him. The tea arrived, and he'd accept a tray with two cups and a kettle with thanks, placing it between them. He'd pour slowly, methodically, with practiced grace. "Do you know, in the order of the gentle fist, as with most orders, there is a level of mastery above any labeled level. Masters teach their students, and grandmasters teach only masters. But, there is another level above grandmaster, known to none beneath the level of grandmaster. It is called the Sage." He sipped his tea, looking for all the world more relaxed than even she... though, come to think of it, wasn't he almost always so relaxed? "Tell me about your music. What it means to you, what it makes you feel."
Kanna widens her eyes in surprise at the display, tentatively waving an unlit incense stick along the floor underneath to see if it was a trick of the light or not. "That's so cool!" She exclaim-whispers. Once the tea is served-- with two cubes of sugar added, as per her demanding sweet-tooth's requirements-- she ponders the question. "I sing of tales long-forgotten by history. They are usually stories that I find in books left untouched to the point where my fingers cannot even remove the dust from its jackets. I would like to think I am doing those tales justice by not letting them fade into memory. They were written because they wanted to be remembered." She winces a bit at how sore talking so much makes her throat, and she takes a sip of the sweet tea.
Bastion listens to Kanna well. "Tales, that want to be remembered. Tell me, Kanna. You delight people by keeping these stories alive, Kanna. You are an artist, and the wonders of imagination are your paint, the emotions and intellects of men your canvas. But I'm more interested in what your art means to you. How does it capture you, why does it? I believe you wish to express something quite profound through your chosen medium. I would love just a glimmer of what that is." He sipped his tea, watching her carefully with those cherry blossom pink eyes of his.
The bardess gives a smile at that, though it seems more indicative of something self-deprecating. "I'm afraid that there is nothing too profound in my music. Entertaining the wealthy was something that I initially started as a means to survive. When I first began to find those obscure texts, and I realized how little people knew of them, I think I had that realization. That one day, there wouldn't be a soul in the world that would remember I was here. I haven't any family, if I were to perish, I would be put into a pauper's grave. That in itself does not bother me, but I do not want to die not having left an impression on a single person. When passerby suddenly remember these forgotten stories, I somehow believe that in turn, they are remembering me as well." A sip. "Perhaps it is selfish. Does....this answer your question?"
Bastion smiled to Kanna. "That it does, Kanna. Perfectly so." He rose and walks beside her, bent down, and grabbed her up in a big hug. "I'll never forget you, Kanna. I promise." There was one thing Bastion was after, forever and always... to validate people. He worked with commoners and the poor mostly, but not just them. With anyone that felt something was missing from their lives. Kanna had a hollow spot in her heart, and he'd stuff as much friendship in that hole as he could possibly manage. "You will not be forgotten for so long as I live, nor will you go unappreciated. I promise." He'd pull back, and take up his seat again. "But I do think you sell yourself short. I believe many people will feel worlds better when they hear your song, listen to your tales. I believe you leave a bigger mark than you realize."
Kanna looked surprised when he hugged her, though it quickly faded into a heartwarmed smile and a hug returned. "Sweet monk." She cooed when she put a hand on his head. At the praise, she simply lowered her head a bit, smiling wide from the recognition. "Thank you."
Bastion smiled again. "Ah, the acupuncture will make you feel calm for the next week or so. Your rest will be peaceful. Everything else should be normal... or somewhat better. And by the end of the week, all of your current wounds should be fully healed." Well, most within a day, but there was never any sure thing when it came to something as strange and wild as magic in these lands. He sipped his tea, until it was finally gone, and poured another cup, offering to pour for her as well.
Kanna smiles and takes another cup from him, along with another two cubes of sugar. "I'm glad. I do not know yet who my next opponent will be, but I hope I can escape that fight with much less injury." She says lightly.
Bastion shook his head. "I will never understand glory fighting, I think. But it seems to be a very popular sport around here."
Kanna purses her lips into a bit of a frown. "It is not for glory. It is just for a chance at the prizes. I can put my opponents to sleep, though I had no time to do so in the last match. It should be a breeze otherwise."
Bastion gives Kanna a smile, and shakes his head. "The Titan of Winter, the Champion of Frostmaw. Surely some come for the prizes though, as you have. Either way, it is violence as a sport, and will always remain strange to me. It seems to be a rather common practice around the world, though. I'll admit, I know it is my view which is odd in this matter."
Kanna scoots so her back and head rest against the side of the bed. "No, I agree there is something barbaric about it." She closes her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the relaxed state his abilities induced. "Yet, you still came to encourage me and tend to me after I got wounded. For that, I'm happy. I've... never had friends before, that would do that for me." The admittance is put out in the open.
Bastion smiled. "Well, you do now. And I can't wait to see how far you go! Even if I don't understand something, I know it is important to you. Enough so that you're willing to suffer through all of this for it. And I hope you find what you seek, in this competition."
And so the two shared their tea in a comfortable silence, likely the first Kanna had allowed since they’d met. Perhaps… she could call him a friend as well.