Chapter 11 – One Week Later
Shaggara dodged to the right as the lightning fast furry palm shot towards her head. The next blow came from below as her left arm came down to block the kick. Both moves happened within a fraction of a second. When that second was over, she had been forced to avoid or block at least half a dozen such attacks from the black and white Pandaren who sparred with her.
Even with her own speed still enhanced by the piece of the Golden Flame she carried, she could only just keep up with his attacks, her arms and legs moving on their own, reacting faster than she could think. But every time she noticed an opening to press her own attack, another of his came from an unexpected direction. She had no time to analyze or plan a strategy. It was like fighting a whirlwind.
"Your body already knows what to do. Your muscles already remember the movements whether you know it or not. Empty your mind, and your muscles will do the rest." He told her without breaking off.
It was late morning, and they had both already gone through the series of slow moving, deliberate martial stretches and movements which had been Guozhi's regular practice. In addition to those exercises, the Pandaren had agreed to spar with her on one condition, that no weapons were to be used in the sparring.
"A weapon is merely a tool, an extension of your own arm and hand. If you cannot fight with your hand empty, why should it make any difference if your hand is full?" The monk had told her when she asked why.
The first day of such sparring, Shaggara had landed on the packed dirt near Guozhi's garden several times. She had been the aggressor in those matches. No matter what she tried to do, he would somehow always catch her off balance by an elbow, a wrist, or an ankle, or by just stepping out of the way. Her own weight and momentum became her downfall.
As he explained it to her, "Your opponent does not need to strike when you yourself are out of balance. When one's heart and mind are not in harmony, they are their own worst enemy. All that is needed is to step out of the way and allow them to defeat themselves."
"You move too fast!" She had protested at that time, her own battle reflexes quick and agile. "How do you move so fast?!"
He had then stopped the contest and extended a hand to help her off the ground from where she had landed. Giving her time to compose herself, he then picked up a large stone with both hands from a pile on the side of his garden and handed it to her. The stone had weight to it, but it was not difficult to hold in her hands.
"Could you run with this stone to the next village?" He had asked her.
"Yes, of course." Shaggara responded. Her strength had returned, and the burden wasn't heavy.
The Pandaren then went and retrieved another stone, and then went back for another still, placing both of them in Shaggara's arms. He was not done until she was visibly struggling under the weight of no less than five such stones and was in danger of dropping them.
"Could you run there now?" He asked innocently.
"No." She said almost grunting. "It's too heavy. I'm carrying too much weight."
"Exactly. The more weight you carry, the slower you become. If you carry but a single stone, the journey is easy. If you carry many, the journey is very difficult. If you carry no stones at all, you may fly as fast you are capable." The Pandaren told her, tapping the side of his head.
Shaggara's expression had become confused at that point.
He then asked, as he helped return the stones to their pile, "What burdens do you make your mind and heart carry, honorable Shaggara? What stones do you bring with you?"
That conversation had been six days before. Since then he had demonstrated how to use the natural movements and reflexes that her body had already learned in a different way. Sword thrusts and axe slices became unarmed blocks and jabs. Even the movement of withdrawing her sword from its scabbard was used in an unexpected way to block an attack.
He explained to her that the Pandaren martial art was more of a philosophy about how one saw and interacted with the world. It wasn't about the movements or specific punches, blocks, or kicks, as it was repurposing the movements you made every day in mundane or ordinary tasks. Every motion became a tool in one's inventory to draw from. It was a matter of freeing up the confines one's mind had placed on them in order that they might be made use of. She had taken his teachings to heart, but still found herself barely able to keep up with the overly large Pandaren who still seemed to be able to move faster than the eye could see.
Guozhi did not relent in his attacks. He continued to throw punches, thrust with his palm, and twist his body in such ways that his feet and legs became projectile weapons that she only narrowly ducked and avoided.
As he did so he continually called out, "What are you thinking?!"
But she had no time to answer. He had pushed her so hard and so fast that she hadn't time to think and her mind was a void, her every ounce of concentration focused on his hands and feet and her reactions to them.
Then a smile crept across Guozhi's face as he read her focused, mindless expression.
"Hold!" He called out, and they both froze.
Shaggara fought every instinct within her, using every ounce of the warrior's discipline she had to keep from pressing an attack. The blood raged within her, demanding that she continue the fight, but she didn't. She stood in the exact position she had been in, her lips held back in a snarl, her eyes narrowed at him. A growl escaped her throat as she obeyed.
"Good! Honorable Shaggara! Very, very good!" He told her. "What were you thinking about just now?"
"Ugh!" She snarled. "I wasn't thinking anything! You didn't give me time to do anything but focus on your attacks and..."
"Precisely!" He smiled even more. "You were mindless! It was wonderful! You were focused on only what was happening in this moment!"
The fire faded behind her eyes as she considered what he said.
"I don't understand." She finally replied. "The mind is a warrior's greatest weapon. How can being mindless be an asset in a fight?"
"Ah, but does the warrior hold the weapon, or does the weapon hold the warrior? You were not thinking of your past, nor what might happen in the future, honorable Shaggara. The only moment which mattered was the one you found yourself in. You dropped your stones and journeyed with your hands empty, even if only for a brief time. This is the true way of ways." Guozhi replied.
The rest of the battle raged drained away from her, little by little as she considered his statement. And then, almost as quickly as the moment passed, her mind began to fill with thoughts. Mostly concerning her mate.
It had been more than a week, almost two since he had left her in Guozhi's care. He hadn't returned since that point in time. Not once. Gereth could take care of himself, she was certain that even if he were in danger he would find a way out of it. But why hadn't he returned to at least tell her what was happening? Why wasn't she there with him to deal with Garrosh and the stolen Triforce of Power?
"My stomach tells me it is time to eat." Guozhi said, bringing her back to the moment.
"What? Yes. Yes it is." She agreed, shoving thoughts of Gereth to the side for the moment.
The truth was, she felt like she was starving after the workout he had put her through. No, she was more than starving. She was ravenous. The monk did not eat a morning meal other than a hot cup of ginseng tea, and as a result, neither did she. He otherwise prepared two meals during the day, the late morning meal and one before the sun went down, though this latter one consisted mostly of whatever had not been eaten earlier along with some fruit.
She had no idea how the Pandaren could be the size he was eating as little as he seemed to.
They both turned towards his small house where the smells of rice, meat, vegetables and spices which had been simmering over a cooking fire was wafting through the air and out the doorway. It made Shaggara's mouth water as it hit her nose far too readily.
They entered the house and Shaggara went to sit down at the table while Guozhi went to the pot hanging over the low burning fire in his fireplace. Taking a pair of mittens made for his large Pandaren paws, he took the handle of the pot from its hook and rested it on a thick bamboo weave mat in the center of the table.
The simple rice dish, along with noodles, vegetables from the monk's garden, and whatever meat he could come by from his village's marketplace was Guozhi's main staple. And while Shaggara found it both savory and satisfying, Guozhi had at first apologized to her for serving such "humble" food to an honored guest. The orc warrior woman wondered what he would think of the less "prepared" orcish fare her foster sister Gryshka served her patrons in Orgrimmar.
Guozhi gestured to Shaggara to take her own food first. "Please, eat!" He encouraged. "You must be very hungry!"
The orc took her bowl and a wooden spoon and scooped out some of the food into her bowl. Soon, a small mountain of the pot's contents sat in front of her and she began eating rapidly with a crudely cut bamboo spoon, while the Pandaren filled his own bowl slowly and meditatively. He seemed to be concentrating on each inhalation through his nose as he scooped the rice, vegetables, and meat deliberately into his bowl, and then slowly set it down in front of himself. With concentration and grace, he picked up his bamboo spoon and slowly filled it and placed it in his mouth.
Shaggara's own appetite refused to be placed under such constraints. By the time the Pandaren had taken his second bite, the orc woman was scooping more food into her own empty bowl. But Guozhi paid no attention to the eating habits of his guest. His only focus appeared to be his own steaming bowl in front of him.
When she finished her second, heaping bowl her eyes became somewhat distant as her own thoughts and worries filled her mind. The Pandaren monk, still in the process of finishing his own food, took note.
"Where are you now, honorable Shaggara?" He asked, smiling.
Her eyes came back into focus and she looked at her friend. "Gereth has still not returned. Something is wrong. I can feel it. Somehow I know, something is wrong. I need to do something. I need to find him."
Guozhi set his spoon down and focused all of his attention on her.
"I'm strong enough now. I'll find a flightmaster here somewhere. I'll make the trip to the Shrine of Two Moons on foot if I have to. But I know my mate. He should have come back for me by now. The threat is too dangerous for him to face alone." She told him, her frustration coming to the surface.
"Perhaps he is concerned that the threat is too dangerous for the two of you right now to join him, honorable Shaggara." Guozhi told her.
Shaggara looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean, the two of me?"
"You and the child which you carry." The monk replied, his smile fading as his expression became very serious.
"The child which I..." She stopped as she looked at her empty food bowl again. She never ate as ravenously as she was now. "How do you know that and I don't?" She demanded.
"Forgive me, honorable Shaggara. It is my experience that some women are unable to discern the movements of their own body, especially when their minds are full of other things. I could tell when I cared for you in untangling your chi. I could not understand why it seemed so contorted and tangled at first until I realized that there were two lives intertwined within you, and both had been very hurt by the energies used against you." He told her. "I told honorable Gereth of the second life. He was very concerned that you and your child recover and not be put into more danger."
Shaggara reeled from this new information as a mix of emotions ran through her heart and mind. I am with child! The thought careened through her soul, and various expressions of joy and fear were displayed across her orcish face. And then the thought of what had happened to her and the pain she had gone through, and put her unborn child through...
"Does the child live? Will it be deformed from the magic used on me?" She wanted to know.
"The child lives." Guozhi reassured her. "As to the rest, it is too soon to tell but your child's chi is strong like yours."
"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked him, angry that he had hidden it from her.
"Among my people, it is not proper for a man who is not her husband to discuss such things with a woman." He told her. "I did not wish to make you uncomfortable, and I believed that your body would tell you in its own time."
A child. She thought, trying to wrap her mind around it. She had been past the aged of child bearing before the rebirth. It honestly hadn't occurred to her that she could bear one. A human-orc child. She then realized. It was the product of both herself and her human mate. It would be a half-orc, half-human and would be accepted in neither world for it, much like their joining. But it would be her child… their child.
"I must go." She then decided standing up, her eyes certain and resolute.
"In your condition?" Guozhi asked.
"I'm pregnant, not injured." She retorted. "Among orcs, pregnancy means you protect your belly more in a fight. It does not keep you from doing what must be done."
Guozhi nodded at this respectfully, though his furred features appeared somewhat uncomfortable at the thought, and not a little disturbed. But her people's ways were different from his own, and it was not his place to judge them.
"Then I will accompany you, honorable Shaggara." The monk then told her, rising himself. "The way to your people's embassy in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms is long. It will take many weeks to travel on foot. But I know of one who may help us reach it sooner."
"You will help me?" She asked.
"You are my friend, and so is honorable Gereth. I would see you both together and at peace." He replied.
The conscription orders went out a week ago, and this is all we are able to muster from four provinces? Varian Wrynn's thoughts were less than hopeful as he watched the handfuls of new recruits train in Stormwind's main barracks. This isn't nearly enough men for what needs to be done, and none of them appear to be experienced fighters much less soldiers.
The king of Stormwind stood in the middle training yard of the barracks near Stormwind Keep. It was a large structure which had been built into the white stone walls of the city. He had wanted to get a feel for a time table on when he might be able to march on Orgrimmar and end the new threat posed by that arrogant, war mongering orc whom they now called "warchief."
But from what he observed, it would not be any time soon.
It was the same story in the Westguard Barracks further south and west in Elwyn Forest. The numbers he was given were abysmal. They would need ten times that many at least to lay siege to Orgrimmar, and most of the men and women he saw training with swords and pikes had been homeless and hungry the week before. They were grateful for the food and the beds, and willing to fight to keep them, but none appeared to even know how to hold a sword much less kill with one.
Moira Thaurissan in Ironforge had reported similar shortages in manpower and quality. He had yet to hear from Darnassus or their Draenei allies in the Azuremyst Isles. Both of them were noble peoples, but both also had their own problems to deal with in their own lands. He knew he could expect only a token force at best.
They had all just been spread too damned thin to begin with, having to station men on four continents and two worlds to guard Alliance interests and fight war after war for the last several decades. Then the thrice damned Deathwing began tearing up this world which caused them to lose even more manpower. And then that damned blight happened and a good quarter or more of the Alliance's existing fighting strength were wiped out almost overnight. Soon, very soon, the Alliance might fall from simple lack of anyone left to defend it.
The king of Stormwind's only consolation to that was that the Horde had suffered similar losses, and from what he had been told by his spies in Lordaeron, they had been rebuffed by the newly "reborn" queen in the north as well who was now refusing to cooperate with them militarily. It had only been a little under two weeks, but so far Sylvanas had made good on her word. She would leave the south alone as long as she saw Stormwind and Ironforge were leaving her alone. The elven queen still had much to answer for in Varian Wrynn's mind, but sometimes justice had to make way for pragmatics.
And if the new recruits in front of him were any indication, the Alliance was in no position to bring justice to her doorstep any time soon. Perhaps that was best left to whatever gods may exist. From Jaina's description of their new threat, he had more than his share of trouble to worry about. There were days, many days, when being a slave and fighting in a pit seemed so much simpler than having to be a king.
"Your majesty!" A voice shouted from off to his right.
Varian turned his head to see where it was coming from. A helmeted soldier outfitted in Stormwind's armor and livery was approaching him.
"What is it?" He asked, his voice less than enthused at more news.
"Message for you, your majesty. It was just delivered less than an hour ago." The soldier told him, saluting and then handing him a rolled up parchment sealed with wax.
Varian took the parchment and inspected the seal. He did not recognize it.
"Who delivered this message?" He asked, somewhat suspicious.
"A courier who came down from Menethil Harbor in the Wetlands this morning, your majesty." The soldier replied.
Varian considered this and then broke the seal and unrolled the scroll, examining its contents. He read it through several times to make sure he understood the clear, deliberate script written in fluent common. The expression on his face became very, very serious as he weighed the implications of the message, and the possible motivations of the sender.
It has been a long time, hasn't it? He thought. I hope it's not too late to correct the mistakes we both made.
"I want a mage in and my bodyguards armed and ready to travel by portal in my council chambers in one hour. I will inform the mage of where to direct the portal when we are ready." He told the messenger. "There's an old acquaintance who wishes to speak with me."
"Of course, your majesty." The soldier replied crisply. He then moved quickly to carry out his king's commands.
At least this is one with whom I can deal.