He approached the training grounds from the right, observing them with pride and fullness of his abilities, feeling confident about what he was about to do. He looked towards the door, where stood his master and adoptive father. Shifu beamed at him, as he always did, eagerly awaiting for a performance from his best student. He was sixteen years old: he was a master, and he would not fail in the master's task.
She approached the training grounds from the left, glaring at them with a steadfast determination, not ever letting herself to fail in the task to come. She gave one last glance at the door, where her master and adoptive father watched her. Shifu was, as usual, coldly expectant, waiting almost passively to see how she would do. She was sixteen years old: she was a master, and she would show him that much.
Eager to please his teacher, he began with the Gauntlet of the Wooden Warriors, aggressively lunging at the motionless soldiers, arousing them awake with his first blow, blocking or avoiding their attacks, splintering many: wood was no match for a fist of iron.
Seething with desire to prove herself, she leapt straight into the middle of the gauntlet, expecting where the strikes came, parrying or dodging all, countering aggressively and explosively on many of the instances: they were nothing after the ironwood.
Triumphing from the wooden horde, his catlike feet easily took him up to the Rings, catching them with his left hand without breaking a sweat. His grace was flawless, his form perfect, as he passed from ring to ring without touching a single blade, receiving not a single scratch.
Baring her fangs at the seven motionless, yet razor-sharp, talons presented by the first Ring, her right hand struck up and easily took a firm grip of it. She did not break her pace even for a second, jumping ahead and diving through the next Ring before catching the third with her tail.
After the final Ring, he landed on the jade bowl with surprising lightness, one a casual viewer would not have expected from a heavyweight such as he. It took him no trouble whatsoever to balance himself on top of the tortoise, and he deflected the approaching arrows away almost without noticing them at all.
She descended in a controlled manner to the green bowl, lifting her hands straight to her sides as she leisurely steadied herself, letting her body flow along with the tilting shell. Circling around, she appeared to not notice the projectiles at all - not until she kicked them aside at the very last moment, as if by accident.
With a single vast pounce, he flew right past the Warriors again to the other side, where the Field of Fiery Death resided. Growling in anticipation as he landed right in the middle of it, he avoided the first flame directily from under him, smoothly dancing his way to the left, evading the subsequent jets of fire. He quickly grew bored with this exercise, and instead of keeping on evading them, he would punch his fist through every burst of death coming out from under him, not missing even once, nor getting hurt.
Through with balancing on top of the shell, like a feather she leapt, with a single bound reaching the firey field. Picking up confidence, daring to hope for a word of approval this time, she instantly bounced away again to avoid the first fire, keeping the balance and the form even as she had to dodge the flames, not letting a single one even sing her fur a little. She began to take great delight in deliberately slowing down, almost daring for the burns to come, to harm her, yet never receiving even a single one.
But he saved the best for last, for he had something waiting for his master, and he smiled as the moment grew near. He leapt up to the final obstacle of the training hall, balanced himself perfectly on top of the mechanisms, and then, as the clubs arrived, he not only dodged them all - but as the final one approached him, he struck it with both hands and it stopped mid-swing, picking up a different route and heading away from him, not ever coming back towards him even as it swung around once more, as if it was afraid.
The final challenge was her favourite, and as such one she saved and savoured until she had dealt with the rest, and thus jumped on it with great delight. It took not much effort on her part to balance herself on it, and avoiding the swinging clubs was not, with her training, anything she could not have done, and went through without a scratch. As the final club approached, she prepared to dodge it as well, but then an intriguing thought entered her head, and she instead decided to show her master something to be proud of, giving it a single two-fisted strike and shattering it in a hundred splinters!
As he landed down in front of his master, beaming for what he saw a job well done, he was happy to see Shifu smiling just as wide. And he spoke thusly:
"Well done, my son! You are truly the finest student I have ever had the pleasure of training: you are the first to go through the entire gauntlet so young! Although it was not entirely perfect - your hand seemed to take a small cut from one of the arrows - it was still a truly impressive feat from you."
As she leapt down and faced her master once again, she looked expectant and wary - and her heart sank as she saw him frowning instead of smiling. He said:
"You could have done worse, but you were too slow and your form was clumsy. In a real battlefield it would not be enough to keep you alive. But I don't remember anyone ever smashing a club to pieces in the history of the hall." And although he looked like he was trying his best to fight it, his lips bent to the tiniest of a smile.
They bowed, and he walked outside, but although he should have been happy, there was a hint of failure and shame deep within. He was wounded. He could have done better! He was not the best yet, unworthy of the wisdom of the Dragon Scroll, the title of the Dragon Warrior. He would have to train more, and never falter, to reach his goal.
Her mood had been lifted to unexpected heights as she exited the building. Having expected mostly just harsh words, she had been surprised positively by having her master actually compliment her, even smile at her! This was a good sign: perhaps if she kept up with it, if she trained hard every day, she could one day bring him peace!
It had just been said that he was the best student his master had ever had, yet this did not strike him as such a compliment as he had hoped. It said less about his own skill and strength, and more of the even greater flaws of those that had come before him: even he was still imperfect, after all. His master, his father, was a wonderful man and a teacher that deserved nothing short of perfection: after all, what would it be said if his greatest student was still flawed? Were he to be the great Master Shifu's best student, then he would also be perfect.
She knew of his past, of course. She knew of his failure with another student. And she knew that it would not be repeated: she would surpass everyone, she would claim the Dragon Scroll, and she would purge away the guilt and shame of her adoptive father. Sometimes she thought it impossible, that she would never be good enough, not worthy of the honor: but it was the days such as these, when she could actually show herself, and him, that she could do something, that the hope within her was rekindled anew.
She was the first to enter combat with him: whereas most would have fled in terror, she leapt up and kicked him in the face without the slightest speck of hesitation or fear. She seemed insecure about the accusations of not being the Dragon Warrior: clearly he had hit the mark, and she was not happy about it. Yet when she charged him again, she did so calmly, not letting her anger overcome her and costing her victory.
In many ways, she reminded him of himself. From the moment he saw her, it was clear to him who was responsible in raising her.
He roared as he leapt up at them and she responded in kind, feeling nothing. In fact, she had anticipated some fear and doubt, a nagging feeling deep within her telling her to run away, yet there was none. She supposed she was ready for this after all. He was proud and stubborn, the claims that she was not the one meant just as much for himself as they were for her. He was calm when she struck, defending expertly and soon going to the offensive.
It was like looking into the mirror. A shattered, fractured one, at that, but nonetheless. She did not like coming to this realization.
And she was almost as good as he was, but only almost. In the end, she required the aid of her friends, and though they did well against him and provided him some entertainment, they all fell when he brought his newest and greatest technique to bear.
Failing to defeat him in a single combat hurt - so much more than his blows against her face had done. For all her life she had been striving to be his equal, his better, and here they were and she was found wanting. She turned the tables again by overpowering him with sheer numbers, but the advantage did not last long.
She was the last to fall, too. Even as three of her companions had been paralyzed and the fourth knocked out, she kept on coming, roaring with anger. Fascinated by this, he let her try for a while before he took her down as well.
She would rather die than give up. Even when she was the last of them standing, even when she was certain it was but a matter of time. He had gone back to the defensive as she struck, studying her, looking deep into her eyes... coming to the same conclusions as she had, probably.
"It looks like Shifu did not do any better with you than with me," he mocked. "Although this time he dropped the pretenses a little earlier, hm? No love to share for those he doesn't think are worthy." He spat out the last word. "I suppose this... Po... got what we should have had, in more ways than one.
Well, time to prove him wrong. Show him I was the one who deserved it, what a grand error of judgement he made."
Having every muscle locked out, she could not even muster the strength to respond to his taunts. Which was good, perhaps, for she was not even certain what she could have said. It hurt, not because they were meaningless mockery, but because somewhere, deep within, she felt the truth in them. Indeed, the tone of voice of the speaker said something similar of him too, that he thought the same way as well, even if he had wished he would not.
He left them behind. With the crane still able to move and fly, once he came to, they would certainly reach home before he did, just the way he wanted.
The battlefield fell back to silence as he left. She could not even look to his direction, being still competely paralyzed. Which was good, perhaps, for she was reasonably certain she would have wept.
"You... can't defeat me...!" This was not happening.
He refused to believe it. This fat imbecile could never be the Dragon Warrior, could never stand for a second in a combat against him, let alone actually defeat him. He would never see that happen: he had gone through too much, faced such challenges, that having the title claimed by someone like this... panda... was unthinkable!
And then the scroll... he did not understand. Why was there nothing there? What was the panda talking about? Was there some magic there that even he did not comprehend? Did it pass its power to the first one that would read it, even if it was some talentless oaf, then become nothing more than a piece of paper afterwards?
Yes... yes! That must have been it! This panda could only stand up to him through such a fluke! And even then... no... he would not defeat him... he would not defeat him!
"You're just a big... fat... panda!"
Through the mist she saw him walk, address the crowd with a simple, humble smile.
It was difficult for her to believe her eyes. The panda, whom she had not believed in at all, had actually gone and done it: he had stood his ground against something that defeated the all of Five, and triumphed! Looking at him made her feel odd: this was something she had been looking forward to for all her life, and in spite of having her dreams taken away from her, she knew it was all right.
She could never have understood the Scroll. She would probably have reacted with outrage and denial. And most of all, after doing what he had done, she could never have simply smiled at him like that. She was unworthy.
But now she understood what the scroll had said regardless, and so, she did the only thing she could: she bowed at him. And she smiled.
"Master."