November DWC 2025
Day 2 (Nov. 10)
Lucky / Heartache
@daily-writing-challenge
“You are a lucky little bird,” the Pandaren murmured as she paced around Serenis, a critical eye on the frail form covered in luxury. “To fly free from your cage for the first time and never know what it feels to fall. Tell me, girl. Have you ever felt the pain of a broken wing?”
It was a gentle inquiry from the Pandaren. A turn of phrasing suddenly upended by a fierce, sudden dive of her paw striking for an arm like quiet lightning.
It was a blow that never connected with the flesh, instead meeting with the golden glow of shielding magic, an instinctual defense Serenis could only manage with wide eyes.
Slowly, Meiyu returned to her natural, regal stance, paws sheathed within her wide sleeves. She sighed. “You will never learn to weave if you fall back on that magic. Our way is honing the body to flow with the spirit. You call on your Light, beg it to save you, to numb you. A monk’s way however is to feel the pain, bear the break, so that we may better understand how to will ourselves to mend it when taken, or avoid it entirely with our flow.”
The Pandaren shrugged. “Maybe our way is not for you. Clearly your Light does not abandon you as you tell me it does, Miss Serra.”
For a long moment, Serra eyed the shimmering shield around her. All she could think about was its golden fall on her, and the white hot sting on flesh that was not her own. A selective force that did not treat all existence as equal. Its golden shimmer felt deceptive, light motes and dust filtering from a hot sun baking a window pane. This was a prayer in an empty altar room, and the only voice that answered her call was her own, bled of its fervor.
“I…no I haven’t ever broken a ‘wing’”, the cantor admitted her fault softly. She let the golden fire wash across her fingertips, numbing warmth that no longer carried the weight of melody in her.
“But I feel pain in the way I feel heartache, because…because none of this feels right anymore. They used to call that a Rapture. A pinnacle of greatness in our Living Flame. And I feel something is so wrong inside of me because it doesn’t sing in me the way they always say it should.”
Serenis closed her fingers into a fist, dispersing the golden flames. Her golden eyes were wet, tears streaking down in a straining frustration. “I think it would just burn what’s left of me away if I let it, if anything.”
The Elder monk listened with quiet empathy, closing her eyes as she offered a nod for her student’s dilemna. Then with a slow, unfurling movement Meiyu let her soft paw release from a sleeve, fingers opening toward Serenis and her inward suffering. An emerald mist aperated from her claws. The dew soothed on the skin, revitalizing something that had been sinking inside of her. A buoy from a moat of hopeless uncertainty.
“Maybe it is time to find a different song, child,” Meiyu suggested with gentle tone. “But you must leave yourself open to it. You know this, don’t you?”
Serra could not stop the silent overflow of her tears - once they started it was always difficult to stop. But for once, she broke into a smile despite them, nodding anxiously.
Meiyu repositioned then, returning to her inviting stance, encouraging her student to echo her movement. “Then again, Miss Serra. As I showed you. And this time, do not let yourself give to that empty light. And do not worry.” Meiyu offered a humoring tone as she beckoned Serra’s first move. “I will not tear your pretty dress.”