New Yorkers, in general, are very blase when it comes to unusual occurrences. Mainly because anything considered "unusual" could fit neatly into three little boxes: Oh Great Another Publicity Stunt; That Asshole Needs To Stop Showing Off Their Element, We Get It, You Aren't Special Dave; and, more often than not, I Can't Really Explain It But It's None Of My Business Anyways So I'm Going To Keep Walking And Hope I Can Get To My Yoga Class On Time For Once.
So a six foot tall man in a pressed black suit and sunglasses staring intently up at one of the windows of the apartment complex did not register as anything truly needing attention. A pink-tracksuit wearing woman with a blonde ponytail did not spare him a glance as she jogged around him on the sidewalk. If she had bothered to look at his face for two seconds, she would have gotten a deep-seated gut feeling that she'd definitely seen him before. And if she had looked for ten seconds, she'd recall seeing his likeness on a news site a few years back. And if she had stopped and thought about it for fifteen more seconds, she'd have won a large sum of reward money for turning in the FBI's ninth most wanted criminal.
However, she was already late to yoga class. So those things did not happen.
The sun glinted of the man's shades as he walked through the doors of said apartment building. The man, currently the ninth most wanted criminal in the States, known to his enemies (and friends, and, well, pretty much everyone) as Garmadon had come here for one purpose and one purpose only.
He reached the door at the end of the eighth floor. Deep red and nondescript, nothing made it stand out among the five other doors in the hallway. Garmadon fished out a piece of scrap paper from his pocket and double checked the address. Yep, this was the place.
He ripped up the paper and swallowed it, mostly just out of habit, before banging on the door.
x
"Feel the ground underneath your feet. You're not feeling it, Kai!"
"Um, no offense, Sensei," Kai said from where he was trying to balance on a pole. "But I don't see how I can feel the ground if I'm not actually touching it."
"That's because you depend too much on what you feel with your body. Feel it with your soul."
"Right. Soul." He muttered, looking down.
"It's easy once you get the hang of it," Nya said, having stopped wobbling minutes ago.
"Yeah, Kai, just feel it in your soul. You know, the one next to your spleen." Jay added helpfully. Kai stuck his tongue out at him. The freckle-faced teen reciprocated the motion.
"Try leaning to the left a bit," Zane suggested in a genuine (not sarcastic) helpful way. Kai tried it.
"Whoa!"
Despite his efforts, he was the first to fall. One by one, the others followed, until only Zane and Cole were left. They others watched intently, like it was some intense Olympic sport, gasping when one of the poles wobbled even the slightest bit.
"Lloyd." The blond teen looked up as the hand of his uncle-slash-martial arts teacher rested on his shoulder. "Come with me."
He wanted to protest, because holy heck this competition was just starting to get good and he wanted to be there when Zane won (because he'd totally win. Not because Cole wasn't any good, because he was, there was just something about the former that made him almost inhumanly perfect). Still, he agreed politely and followed Wu out of the room.
His uncle's dojo was, undoubtedly, the coolest place in the city. A two story building situated just outside Prospect Park, it boasted one of the best martial arts programs in the state (as well as doubling as a really good tea shop, because profit had to be made somewhere). And part of it, Lloyd suspected, came from the acceptance of students using their elements in class.
They passed the junior class, where Dareth was attempting to get a bunch of riled-up elementary schoolers to sit still and listen to his totally-awesome, not-at-all-fake hero story. Lloyd bit his lip to suppress a giggle when he heard the teacher snap, "Stop levitating the prize box, none of you are getting treats if you can't-"
Yeah.
He followed his uncle into his private office, taking a seat on one of the couches. Wu took the seat opposite him, pouring a cup of tea and handing it to him.
"Thanks." Lloyd took a small sip to be polite and tried not to grimace.
"Too strong?"
"It's a little...bitter." he confessed.
Wu chuckled. "I'll have Mystaké take another look at it. It's supposed to be her new blend, nutmeg and cinnamon, for winter."
Well, that explained the spiciness. Still, "Winter? We just got out for the summer."
"Which gives us plenty of time to perfect the blend, doesn't it?" Wu winked, pouring his own cup and downing it. "Wow, that is bad."
Lloyd tapped his fingers nervously. "Um, did you call me here for a reason?"
Wu stood up and moved over to the sink. "Can't I just have a chat with my favorite nephew?"
"I doubt it." Lloyd said as he watched his uncle fill up two glasses with water.
"I suppose not," Wu sighed. There was a faraway look in his eyes, some feeling Lloyd couldn't place. Then he snapped out of it and handed him the water to wash away the aftertaste of the failed nutmeg-and-cinnamon blend winter tea before sitting back down.
Lloyd could feel his uncle staring at him with the eyes of a hawk. A peregrine hawk, ready to dive and attack at a moment's notice. He swallowed.
Which was a genius idea, considering he already had water in his mouth and now half of it was going down his windpipe.
"Destiny-"
Lloyd started choking.
Wu took the glass from him as he coughed into his elbow. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he gasped. "Sorry. You were saying something about destiny?"
"Yes, 'something'." He placed the glass gently on the table and changed direction. "You're growing up so quickly, nephew. It seems as if just yesterday you were entering the ninth rank of ninjutsu, and now you're about to enter high school."
Lloyd really didn't need the reminder. Middle school had been bad enough, but at least last year he was in the upper grade and the underclassmen didn't dare pick on him. Now in two and a half months, he was going to be thrown to the wolves.
"It's just high school," he murmured, mostly just to reassure himself.
"You're right. No need to be worried about that, nephew." Wu pressed a panel on the side of the table, revealing a hidden compartment. Out of this compartment, he took a small metal briefcase, secured by the numerical padlock.
Lloyd knew what was in the safe: the most important, well-guarded secret in the world (well, after Area 51. There's definitely something shady going on in there). Known only to him and his two family members and a few select government officials. The Scroll of Destiny, a prophecy written thousands of years ago that foretold the birth of someone with powerful elemental magic, an element only described as "green".
All his school life, Lloyd had been bullied for having no elemental power. But he did. It was just a secret, for his own safety.
Now, if only he could figure out exactly what the green elemental power was supposed to be.
