Four Winds: Ascension

A Castle Fantasy AU

By Laura Picken

This story is in the continuing series of Castle fan fiction based on my fantasy alternate universe story "Four Winds". Honestly...this is the tenth and final story in the series. If you stumbled in here by mistake at *this* point, just go to my author page, look up the Four Winds series, and start at the beginning. You will be hopelessly confused if you don't take the time to get yourself up to speed. Don't worry, this story will be waiting for you when you're done reading the others. Unless you're one of those people who has to read the last page of a book first. In that case...well, good luck.

DISCLAIMER: Castle, Beckett, et al. are property of Andrew W. Marlowe and ABC. The legends and related legendary characters described herein are (mostly) adaptations of my own twisted imagination and should not be taken to reflect the traditions of any particular group. All non-English language phrases are courtesy of Google Translate, so please forgive me if I get anything unintentionally wrong.

Okay, enough business, let the adventure begin!

Beckett looked up at the clear blue sky above her, tempted to curse the vastness of the site. Some days, looking out at the majesty of the mountain range that surrounded the temple was profound and encouraging, reminding her of the the legacy that she and her friends had inherited and the wisdom and patience of the men who were instructing her in the finer points of that legacy.

And then there were days like this.

"Focus, Lièrén, *please*," Wangchuk, the Tibetan monk who had been her predecessor, seemed to be reaching the end of his usually limitless patience. "Need I remind you that your life might one day hang on your ability to master this particular lesson?"

"No," Beckett sighed as she wiped a light sheen of sweat off her brow. "No, honored one, you don't have to remind me of that." After all, she thought, it's not like I haven't heard the same comment the last three times...

"I heard that!" Lobsang called back. He switched to his mind-voice, not wanting to waste his precious energy reserves on things like getting up to have a verbal conversation. Lièrén, my brother would not be pushing you so hard if it were not important...

Beckett drew in a deep breath of cold, crisp air and let it out slowly, fighting to get her emotions back under control. She felt the Mùshī's presence increase in her mind, easing the frustration, and she latched onto it with the same grateful enthusiasm as if someone had handed her a hot cup of coffee...or a cold beer. I do understand. Thank you, honored one.

Lobsang gave her no reply, not wanting to waste further energy. Wangchuk, on the other hand, had no problem with talking to her. "All right," he instructed her, "do you feel your link with the Mùshī? What does it feel like?"

Beckett closed her eyes, pushing herself to find words to describe the sensation. "The connection between us...it feels like a tunnel of energy, with me on one side and the Sìfāng on the other. The Mùshī still does not feel like he's here..."

"That is because the Mùshī *is* the...tunnel between you," snapped Wangchuk, cutting her off. "Now, describe to me the connection between yourself and the Sìfāng."

"Like a tether," said Beckett. "Not a mind-link, but stronger. It feels almost...physical."

"And how is that link being created?"

Beckett parroted the words she had repeated several times already. "Ryan needs to ground himself to the energy of the Earth, then send that energy through Castle to me."

"And what *should* happen at that point?" asked Wangchuk with a weary sigh.

"I get the ability to use Castle's powers for as long as the tether lasts."

"So use them. Light the torch."

Beckett steadied her nerves and concentrated her focus. She put all of her energy into willing the torch to burst into flame, just as she had seen Castle...

"No, no, NO!" exclaimed Wangchuk, breaking Beckett's focus. Lobsang collapsed, conscious but clearly exhausted. And this did *not* make his brother happy. "You *still* do not understand..."

Apparently the fifth failed attempt was the breaking point for Kate Beckett. "What?!" she exclaimed, sharing her mentor's frustration. "What the hell am I missing?"

Wangchuk fought to regain his own patience, racking his brain to try to remember if learning the skills to pass down to his brothers had been this difficult for him. The Lièrén opened his mouth to speak to his protégé, only to have her stop him with a finger to her lips. She turned away from Wangchuk, focusing her entire attention on a conversation she knew only she could hear. Lièrén, Ngawang projected into her mind, I believe I can help. May I examine your memory of the last attempt?

Beckett was confused by the voice that had entered her mind. Ngawang?! Your brother isn't making this connection, is he?

No, Ngawang replied. He sent the last of his energy to me when your last attempt failed. It should be just enough...

The prophet's mind-voice trailed off, confusing Beckett even further. "Ngawang?!" she called out.

Ngawang crossed the courtyard from his observation seat when he realized that Beckett was no longer listening to his thoughts. "Forgive me, young one. My brother had less energy than I thought."

Beckett connected the fizzle-out to the explanation Wangchuk had been trying to drill into her brain earlier. "And since Lobsang ran out of gas, so did your ability to keep up the mind-link?"

Ngawang nodded...even though his frown of confusion showed that he didn't clearly understand the expression Beckett had used. "That is...correct, young one. May I, as you would say, do my thing?" Beckett nodded, allowing Ngawang back into her mind. The prophet replayed Beckett's memory, copying it into his own. "I see," he announced when he was finished. "I believe I see the difficulty here."

"What is it?" asked Beckett.

"Your mind seems to have broken down the Great Blessing into its five roles," Ngawang replied. "And because you associate each role with one of your friends, when you are asked to take on the role you associate with that friend, you find yourself incapable of doing so. In the depths of your soul, you seem to believe that if you acquire the ability of one of your friends, even for the briefest length of time, that you are killing that friend."

Wangchuk took up the mantle of continuing the explanation, now that he understood the obstacle facing his protégé. "Young one, the Great Blessing is *one* power. It simply manifests itself in different ways. You differentiate yourself from the group in order to protect your friends, when the truth is that the only way the Great Blessing can fully express itself is if you work together, united, as *one*."

Beckett carefully considered the advice of her instructors. "So...what you're saying is that because the same single power fuels all our abilities, then all I really need to use, say, the wizard's abilities, is a strong enough mind-link?"

Wangchuk finally seemed to relax. "Yes, young one. That is exactly what I am saying."

Beckett shook out her muscles in an attempt to loosen and re-warm them up again. She then turned her attention to the Mùshī, who just barely seemed to be able to focus a shred of attention on something other than his own needs. "Honored one," she asked, trying to sound as humble and contrite as she could, "forgive me for my insolence...but is there any chance you've got one more attempt in ya?"

I think I might be able to handle one more attempt, Lobsang's mind-voice rang teasingly through her mind. Since you asked so nicely...

Beckett smiled broadly and briefly before focusing her thoughts fully on the task at hand. Closing her eyes, she focused on accepting the connection with Jamyang, letting the power flow not just to her, but *through* her. She then opened her eyes with only one thought in her mind: seeing that stupid torch finally topped with a pillar of flame.

The torch lit up less than a second later.

It felt like all the tension in the courtyard had been whisked away by the breeze. Wangchuk gave his protégé a small bow of approval, as did Jamyang. Lobsang collapsed on the tile floor, underneath him, finally allowing himself to feel the full extent of his exhaustion.

And a visitor stood at the entrance to the courtyard, applauding for the performance he had just witnessed. The four conscious temple Guardians tensed slightly, centuries of reflexes kicking in, putting them on alert until they could safely determine whether the visitor was friend or foe.

Kate Beckett, though, recognized the visitor immediately. And she did the first thing she could think of doing when seeing someone she had never thought she would have the chance to see again.

She hugged him.

The visitor returned the hug of *his* old protégé, thrilled to be able to have one last chance to give her one. "Well, well, Kate Beckett the superhero," Roy Montgomery greeted his favorite detective with a smile and a hearty chuckle. "Who'd have thought, huh?"

"I kinda prefer Guardian myself," Beckett replied with a smile. It was then that she noticed how her mentors were still on a heightened state of alert. "It's all right, honored ones," she announced to the monks in the courtyard. "He's with me."

The Guardians stood down, trusting the word of the one who shared their legacy. Beckett then took her old mentor and introduced him to each of the Guardians in turn. The handshakes were casual, but still slightly formal, as each Guardian simply returned the handshake with a quiet not of acknowledgement.

Until Ngawang. The prophet held Montgomery's hand in a firm grip, copying the memories of the life of Roy Montgomery to add to his vast collection. A shadow passed over Ngawang's expression as he released the hand connected to his own. "Deliver your message, spirit," he ordered Montgomery firmly. "Time is of the essence."

Beckett's face fell as she watched the prophet's curt greeting to her old friend. "Roy?" she asked Montgomery, turning to face the man. "What's he talking about?"

"They're coming for you, Kate," Montgomery warned her in a tone that sounded terribly familiar. "They'll be coming for all of you. Soon."

Beckett nodded, understanding the message immediately. There was no need to explain who 'they' were. There was, however, one explanation that, Beckett knew, was absolutely necessary. "Why now?"

"Any animal is at its most dangerous when it is cornered and wounded, Lièrén," Ngawang replied cryptically. "But especially a dragon."

Cornered. Wounded. Dragon. To hear those three words strung together in a sentence was one thing. But to hear them strung together in a sentence in the presence of Roy Montgomery was another thing *entirely*. Beckett's mind was reeling, fighting through a torrent of confused thoughts and conflicting emotions. "Bracken's cornered and wounded?" she asked Ngawang. "How? And why would that push him to come after me?"

"This one you call Bracken, Lièrén," Ngawang replied, "he is not the dragon."

Beckett's eyes widened in surprise. "He's not? Do you know who the Dragon is, then? And why he's going to be coming for us?"

"I do not know who this dragon represents in your world, young one," said Ngawang. "But I do know why he hunts you."

"You do?" asked Beckett. "Tell me."

Ngawang grabbed Beckett by the wrist, pushing a memory to the forefront of her mind. Beckett gasped as she instantly recognized the incident the prophet brought up. "The black fog? It's coming back?"

"The fog will poison your dragon," Ngawang replied, "then use this dragon to launch an attack against you. It must not be allowed to succeed. At *any* cost."

Beckett didn't like where this conversation was heading. Still, she felt compelled to ask, "What will happen if the dragon succeeds?"

Ngawang's face drained of color as a vision hit him with such terrifying, shocking force that it took the assistance of two of his brothers to keep him standing. Even then, it took several tense, precious minutes before the prophet was able to answer Beckett's question.

"If the poisoned dragon emerges victorious, it will mean the end of all things."

Happy Guardian Monday everyone! Don't forget to leave your comments below!