“Blessings, little muse.”
The wind of a soft voice rolled over fields of little muses, rousing them like waving grain. Its glory and grace filled them with love. The same voice, the same being, spoke at once to all and to each. She was the great elder muse, the first muse, there to greet those who were newly born. She was as beautiful as she was commanding. Her long, sparkling green hair flowed into the world itself, bleeding into the sky and ground beneath them.
Green skin, pointy ears, and big, golden eyes were the signs of a muse. Each of them was born simple. Like all things in life, that would change. The muses were each charged with a species and flew off to see who awaited them. The voice guided them to their worlds and their first task.
One young muse arrived at a sea of floating planets sprouting tall, coiling trees of light. They were surrounded by clouds with twinkling lights. Throughout the endless sea of worlds were many strange flying creatures.
“Those beings in the sky are ideas,” the elder muse said, hearing the little muse’s questions before they could be asked. “And the planets, those are humans. We live to help intelligent beings and ideas coexist. Neither of them understands their relationship, but you will. Come with me.”
The elder muse led the little muse toward the base of a human. The world around them twinkled like they passed through an invisible tunnel. They arrived at a little floating shrub. The trees had rounded, triangular leaves, and the flowers were blue with an orange center. The little human glowed brightly near two giant humans that intimidated the little muse. Humans were a world unto themselves. As the muse dove into the human’s planet, the shrub’s twigs and branches became baby trees in a field of grass. They landed on the surface of the human’s mind.
With a hand on the little muse’s shoulder, the elder muse guided it to a nearby tree struggling to spawn. She held an arm toward it, and a curtain of blue smoke lifted from the shrub. The cloud became a creature that looked like a muse. It had two arms, two legs, and a head, but round ears and no tail. The pudgy creature was clumsy and had trouble grabbing a colored writing stick.
Once it had a grip, a cloud of sparkling pink and yellow joy erupted from the baby human. Right away, the little muse knew what the clouds around the humans were. Little ideas took shape from the cloud and were drawn to the human. Two triangles fluttered around it like a butterfly. Grass sprouted from the ground, and a wobbly circle above shone a wheel of light rays around them.
The joy halted for a moment when the human tried to draw a car but stopped short. It drew the frame and the tires, then a box for the top of the body, but was confused about the doors. The front and rear doors were different. In the muse’s world, the little car drove around wildly as the young human grew frustrated. The pink and yellow clouds turned bright red with agitation.
“Go, little muse, help it.” The elder muse nudged the little muse into action.
The little muse chased down the car and jumped on top of it. Hanging on with both clawed hands, the muse needed more. Its feet transformed into claws to help it hang on. Pulling a hand free, it used its finger to draw a line around the rear tire. In an instant, the human’s frustration vanished. In a moment of inspiration, he drew a curved line, and the cloud around the muse turned happy again. The car settled down, and the muse jumped off before it zipped off to happily drive around the human.
A tingle swept through the Muse’s body, and it took in a deep breath. The little muse grew slightly. A sense of nourishment filled it from within. Then, the struggling tree in this little human’s mind sprouted to life.
“Continue your deeds, little one. Grow strong and be mighty. But beware, some ideas are dangerous. You should be prepared to defend yourself,” the elder muse said. She kissed the top of the little muse’s head and floated away. She blended into the world and disappeared.
The little muse needed no more direction than that. That sense of nourishment was amazing, and it craved more. The muse returned to the little shrub, growing alongside it. Other muses came and went, but the little muse stayed until it came to know failure. One day, the muse was unable to help the little human with an idea. The human tore apart the paper, and the muse watched the idea shatter. The pieces fell to the ground like ripped rags, slowly burning at the edges.
Feeling hurt, the muse found another human nearby having trouble with her work. It drifted away to help that human instead. The muse traveled from human to human, realizing the great variety of ideas and people in the world.