Notes; After doing some research on China's historical palace, I've decided to change the Tài Péng Palace (which is actually Vietnamese), to Epang Palace, with the probable meaning being the "Palace on the Hill", and is a real Chinese palace - go figure! No, it's all thanks to research. Anyway yes, without further ado, happy reading! Please do review, everyone likes getting reviews and I would like to know the reaction my story gives to its readers. Thank you.
M E S S E N G E R
A year had passed since after the defeat of Tai Lung, and China has never been more powerful than it was before. It took great care to mold the broken pieces of the Valley of Peace back to their original forms, but once the town was rebuilt the citizens were more than over joyed by the help of their saviors; The Furious Five and Po.
Peace spread like wild fire, but like all burning infernos, they were soon put out.
PRESENT DAY, EPANG PALACE
The palace on the hill was pretty much self explanatory; it was on a hill. The highest hill, just like the Jade Palace, that looked down upon its people and watched for any trespassers that dared terrorize the Tài Péng Village. Unlike the Valley of Peace, this village was inhabited by a large portion of cranes. Sure, there were geese, rabbits and even friendly crocodiles hanging about, but it was mostly cranes that ran the place.
The Qǐzhòngjī dynasty were the first to claim the Epang Palace and it's village, as it is said that the first Crane Emperor; obviously named as 'Qǐzhòngjī' was a traveler just like the great Master Oogway. However, Qǐzhòngjī loved the lost art, known as writing and the once unnamed village gave him peace in writing his scrolls. He also fancied the water falls nearby, and the mist that would roll in each morning before evaporating with a burst of rays from the sun. It was, his home. The Epang was later built on his favorite hill, and Qǐzhòngjī later moved in with his many brothers who had traveled far to help him build the palace. The old crane later died, leaving his beloved home to his single wife and a son who repeated the tradition.
To this day, the twelfth emperor of the Qǐzhòngjī dynasty sits in his bed, comforted by none other than the paintings of his deceased wife who painted beautiful cheery blossom trees in her lifetime. He wanted to smile, but he was too tired and week to do so, and despite the light weight of the painted scrolls he was holding, his tired legs gave out and he winced at how pathetic he must've looked if anyone was in the room. Emperor Shēng sighed and stared at the many paints on his bedroom walls, all from his wife. He pondered to himself, 'He reminds me so much of Yīnghuā, I wonder... where is that boy?'
His thoughts was interrupted by the slamming of the door, and a very furious crane barging in. His son; Wúqíng. Emperor Shēng rolled his weak eyes at his son's dramatic entrance and made his feet comfortable under his twisted silk bedsheets, "What is it now, Wúqíng? Can you not see that your father is resting?" The old crane then chuckled and said, "Unless if it is about you finally hitting puberty, I'll be more happier to help..." He trailed off as the young avian gave into a quick frenzy, shoving many of the emperor's trinkets off a nearby wooden drawer before breathing heavily, robes hanging and wild eyes. For a moment, the emperor was shocked, and then put on a blank stare, "You're paying for those."
Wúqíng returned a crazed expression, laughing hysterically from his father's attempt at being a comedian. Honestly, being a tad bit weird was in Emperor Shēng's blood, he couldn't change the fact that he was down to earth and wanted to live happy before he died. His son however, was the complete opposite. Wúqíng leaped, and landed with a thud on his father's carved wooden chest. His wings flapped gently, and Shēng swore he saw a talon twitch. The young avian fixed his ebony sedge hat that had gone off center during a leap, and eyed his father up and down; the emperor returning a light chuckle, "Let's cut to the chase, dad." Wúqíng said, "I am, but asking you a tiny favor and you keep speaking in riddles!"
"Because what you seek is dangerous my son," The emperor simply responded with a light smirk, "But I will tell you that I have told my secret to a bird, including your mother."
"Uhh," Wúqíng's wings seemed to extend out slowly, before they flapped back against his body again, "She's dead."
"Exactly," The elder crane chuckled, "Which is why you will never know where it is." Wúqíng was not amused, and gave his father a glare, but his expression seemed to make things worse and his father laughed just as hysterically as he did, maybe even insanely. It made the young avian wither. He never understood his father, at times. Most of times. It bothered him to death, but if he wanted to become emperor, he'd have to suck it up like a real Qǐzhòngjī would. Wúqíng huffed and descended from his father's wooden chest, he waited for the old crane to pay him some attention, but it never came and the emperor went back to looking at old paintings as if nothing happened.
Something dawned in Wúqíng's mind. Paintings, and his father did mention another bird. Another crane. He smirked, and for once, Wúqíng was proud to finally figure out his father's endless riddles, "Fēi knows, doesn't he?"
"If you mean Bùnéng Fēi, yes." Emperor Shēng smiled, "But I assure you that he would not know." This confused the young avian.
"But you just admitted, what?" Wúqíng blinked his eyes and growled, "Cut the crap dad, and tell me a solid answer."
"Fine." The old bird waved a gentle wing, "I told him..." He coughed, and Wúqíng took the chance to walk out and call nearby guards. The emperor, after weakly pouring himself a cup of tea and taking a sip, continued to finish his sentence, "I told him... in a riddle." He sighed, and although his words were directed towards his son, it felts as if the four walls were the only ones listening to him, "Power is earned, not taken."
He began to pray, "Great Budai, help my son find his way back home through these stormy winds." Shēng whispered, "I beg of you."
As the emperor continued to pray, Wúqíng, heir to the Qǐzhòngjī dynasty summoned up a messenger, a young geese, yet clumsy. The prince rolled his eyes and shoved a quickly written scroll to the smaller avian, "Find me Fēi. Bùnéng Fēi." His face contorted into some what of a disgust, and Wúqíng snapped his attention at the messenger, "Find him." He said in a calm, yet commanding voice, "Now."
THE JADE PALACE, BEFORE THE SPRING FESTIVAL
A lot has changed since after the Dragon Warrior emerged from under his cloak, or from Po's chase, "fallen from the sky". The Valley of Peace seemed brighter, and not just because of the new, decorative lanterns that hung almost everywhere, but because citizens hung around more and away from the safety of their homes. Because, China was pretty much safe after the defeat of Tai Lung.
Psh, that's what everyone thought.
At the moment, the masters were having their usual evening dinner, but unlike any dinner they had to be in tip top shape for a rare, yet yearly occasion; the Spring Festival, celebrating the New Year together and with the town's folks. It was also a rare time where the citizens of the valley see their masters dressed in their elegant robes and be part of the crowd without having to sign too much autographs from fans. People were always distracted with other things during New Years, especially when the fireworks started, but for now, the masters were enjoying a warm meal prepared by none other than the Dragon Warrior; Po.
Like always, when Po served his forte was noodles. He could very well prepare other meals, but noodles was what the other five masters preferred. So, noodles for every rare occasion it was. Shifu even joined his students for a couple of good meals, and exchanged a few jokes that had everyone laughing. It was, but the peace that the Valley of Peace had been waiting for, and to think that such a peace can be taken away so quickly.
After the meal, everyone departed to ready themselves but after sneaking into their teacher's study and leaving a present. There were two boxes, and Shifu opened the first one, finding it to be peculiarly small and he chuckled at Po's written note beside the half eaten dumpling, 'You are free to eat.' the parchment said, and the red panda chuckled at the good memories. Then he moved onto the bigger box, and to his surprise, he pulled out a kimono, his size and very new. Unlike his old, worn out kimono, the new robe had a dragon design on it, scales various parts of the attire, and the head just resting on the shirt's right shoulder. The great instructor quickly looked at the note that had fallen out of the robe when he unfolded it.
'To Shifu, with lots of love,' it said, and continued on; 'From the Furious Five and Dragon Warrior.' His ears seemed to drop at the warm feeling of love from his students, then there was a sudden rapping at his door and Shifu sighed. He answered the door after quickly slipping on his festival kimono, "Yes, Zeng?"
"Master Shifu," the geese bowed and looked up with bouncing feet. The Chinese master raised an eyebrow at the bird's actions and asked, "Well?"
"A messenger from the Epang Palace has come to speak with you." Zeng responded, "He's waiting in front of the palace, sir."
It took only a moment for Shifu to absorb the information, and he pondered quickly why a messenger from the Epang Palace has traveled to the Valley of Piece. The red panda blinked his eyes and gestured for Zeng to lead the way, "Did this messenger say why he is he?"
A shook of the head was the geese's reply, and the two hurried off.
In all honesty, Crane didn't mind being the 'mother hen' despite the fact that he's a guy, but psh; who cares? He obviously didn't. He helped his band of merry friends in anyway he could, such as today. His first appointment was with Po, who he grew very close to as a best friend. The panda hadn't the idea of what to wear to the festival, let alone had the time to get cloth for a kimono, but it was quickly solved with a quick look in Crane's walk in closet, which was surprisingly packed with art supplies. Then very little clothing that were all concealed in a wooden chest in an inner closet. With a quick unrolling of a nearby fabric rack, Crane pulled out a cloth decorated with bamboo and draped it over Po, before making it into a fitting kimono that looked representable.
After lending the Dragon Warrior a great talon, Crane stumbled into Tigress' room after being invited in. He quickly tailored the tiger's bottom half of the kimono with precision and care, and stepped back to admire his work. He thought Tigress to be pretty, even without a skirt and just her regular pants. The tiger master smirked approvingly and bowed to the bird with respect, and Crane repeated the gesture.
Almost having forgotten about himself, Crane quickly slipped on his robe and fixed his sedge hat clumsily that only went off center again. After the tenth try he gave up and figured that the straw that it was made off was loosening up after much use. His bracelets seemed to jingle together as he made his way to Mantis' room. Then he paused, knowing that the insect needed no such help, as Mantis liked being the independent type that he is. Crane shrugged, and agreed that whatever dignity Mantis had left, he had better respect it, and the avian carried onto Monkey, who only needed help with polishing up his staff. Such a task was done after a nice chat and a cup of tea.
Crane slipped into Viper's room, shutting the door behind him with a gentle tug from his talon. He turned, sighing as he tried to fix his clumsy straw hat, "Hope you didn't think I'd forgotten about you... wow." He blinked his eyes and raised a brow. Viper rolled her eyes and groaned, dropping the paint brush on her already paint stained straw carpet. She had been curious, and decided to try writing her favorite poem on her back side only to fail. Her red rose bud clips seemed to wither as she saw the bird's expression on his face, "I know, I'm a mess. I tried tattooing myself to see how it'd go, and look at me now!" She shimmied at her failed attempt. With Crane still staring Viper pouted and started to slither towards a small bowl of water where she'd clean her tail off. She left a trail of ink on her way, but the snake didn't seem to care.
"What?" Crane questioned his idiot self more than his friend, "No, no! I mean... wow you look..." He tried to find appropriate words. Viper's black vest kimono was stunning, silk and the outline of a red dragon decorated the plain background. If anything, the snake looked gorgeous and the matching rose buds? Definitely. Viper was practically glowing in his eyes, or maybe it was just the lighting in the room? Whatever. Flapping his wings gently he grabbed a wet cloth from a nearby bowl and started wiping off the mess that Viper had made. Crane didn't mind cleaning, after all, Viper was only attempting to try something new. He gave the snake a comforting smile that was returned and Crane flipped the straw carpet on it's clean side once he had finished wiping away the ink off of Viper. The snake slithered back on the carpet and smiled. Crane picked up the brush with his talon, and with a gentle grip he held it over the box of ink.
"What poem shall it be this year, Viper?"
The snake beamed at her already chosen idea, "The "Ancient Air" by Li Bai, and dark purple please."
Crane tapped his sedge hat to center and gave Viper a look, "But you picked that last year."
Viper laughed, and it was music to the bird's ears, "I know, but I love it. There's just... there's just something about it, you know? So, come on, before the festival starts." She smiled again and made herself comfortable, and waited patiently for Crane to start. Shrugging gently, the bird master dipped the brush in an ink bottle and started scrolling down the verses. It didn't take him long, as he was halfway done, but then there was also the almost Celtic, yet still Asian designs that he painted over Viper's smooth skin.
"So what were you saying?"
Crane's eyes averted to Viper's face, "Huh, what?"
"You said you weren't wow'ing at my failure. I mean, I would... I was, but you wanted to say something else." She rose a brow of her own and waited for an answer. Crane shrugged, "It's nothing important, believe me."
Viper blinked, then chuckled before settling down, "If you say so, but I hope you don't regret it."
Crane forced a smile; he already was, and his klutzy hat was making it worse. "I won't." He lied. He turned back to painting Viper as he was almost done. Crane took a quick moment to admire his work, smiling as he read the verses on the snake's skin.
"I climb up high and look on the four seas,
Heaven and earth spreading out so far.
Frost blankets all the stuff of autumn,
The wind blows with the great desert's cold.
The eastward-flowing water is immense,
All the ten thousand things billow.
The white sun's passing brightness fades,
Floating clouds seem to have no end.
Swallows and sparrows nest in the Wutong tree,
Yuan and Luan birds perch among jujube thorns.
Now it's time to head on back again,
I flick my sword and sing..."
"Hm, that reminds me!" Viper said suddenly, "Have you got enough space for it this time? You always write so big, and I keep wondering what he sings at the end." There was a sound of disappointment in her voice, and Crane forced on yet another smile. Viper was absolutely right; no space, once again.
"Well, it's a mystery," Crane said, "You tell me the last verse, and I'll write it down."
"Fine, how about..." The lime snake seemed to trail off, pondering about what would fit into her favorite poem. She snapped her tail after much thinking and opened her mouth to tell of her idea when Viper's bedroom door suddenly slammed open and Shifu stepped in. The paint brush that had been hovering above the snake's tail drew a straight line along the back of Viper's skin, as the result of Crane having been startled.
"Crane!" Their master beamed, in an unamused voice, "We need to talk, or should I say; we need to talk, Bùnéng Fēi of the Qǐzhòngjī dynasty."
Viper's eyes went wide, and the remaining masters that have been peaking out of their rooms to see the commotion gasped. Crane, frozen as a chill went down his spine dropped the paint brush he had been holding, and his sedge hat yet again slid to one side clumsily.
They were never suppose to find out.
D I C T I O N A R Y
Epang Palace; with the probable meaning: "The Palace on the Hill", is a real Chinese palace, being built by the First Emperor to serve as a replacement of Xianyang Palace; said to had been burned down by Xiang Yu (Hegemon-King of Western Chu).
Qǐzhòngjī; "crane".
As for the character names, I'll explain them later on.
