GEEEEEEEEEZZZZ

So I finally got into my old computer, and found this half-finished sitting in an old file. After brushing it off a little bit, I thought I'd share it with you!


Blood and Gold


"So we finally meet, Shen," the stranger said. He was tall, a reptile of some sort judging from the scaly muzzle. It was somewhat harder to gauge his appearance though, as he was dressed in a voluminous brown cloak. This had a hood; Shen couldn't see his eyes. His voice though was deep, but dry, a little like hissing wind.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?," Shen asked. His wing instinctively drifted towards the knives in his robes. Everything about him set Shen on edge, though he couldn't tell exactly why. Perhaps it was just paranoia speaking, but better safe than sorry.

A smile slowly curved its way over the stranger's muzzle. The smile did nothing to assuage the feeling spreading in Shen's gut. "I hope you know of me. I'd be offended if Fenghuang hadn't mentioned me at least once."

Prickles ran up Shen's neck like a line of ants. This wasn't right. "I don't believe so...she mentioned very little to me."

"How did you get in here? I didn't hear the doors open..." Chang interjected, tottering up to stand beside Shen. At a look from the aged master, Shen remembered himself, tucking the map away in his robes. The peacock didn't see any reason to get sloppy just because he was unnerved. That would be a mark of weakness. Speaking of, he didn't actually have time to waste with strangers, unnerving or not.

"I won't hold your age against you, provided you do the same for me," the stranger said, tucking clawed hands inside his sleeves. Shen could hear him scratching at his wrists beneath the fabric. His raspy voice darkened. "All the same, I came to speak with Shen. You have no part in our discussion."

"Yes, well," Shen said, drawing himself up. "I was just leaving. Another time, perhaps?

Chang, meanwhile, stood his ground. "I own these walls. I have a right to be wherever I wish, if I feel I have the need–"

BANG.

One instant the aged ibis had been standing beside Shen. The next, he was slammed against the far wall of the room, hard enough to send a spiderweb of cracks splintering through the steel. Smoke exploded through the air, ash splattering outwards in a ring from where Chang had been standing. Some of the ash landed on Shen's beak. It smelled like burned feathers.

Horror.

Shen gaped, his mind trying to process the sheer speed of the violence. "Chang!"

Chang's head slumped, but he was so far embedded in the wall that he did not fall. Blood dripped from his beak...and smoke drifted from his eyes. He was dead.

"You own these walls indeed, Master Chang," the Stranger said in a nonchalant, teasing tone. "But it seems there is a possibility for new management?"

It took Shen all of five seconds to process this. It took him another second to draw his sword, and a mere eyeblink to thrust it forwards with all the strength and fury he could muster, directly at the vile stranger's heart. But, with a violent, fluid motion, the hooded figure interjected his clawed hand between himself and the blade. The steel struck scales–
–And melted instantly, scattering in a thousand glowing droplets. A halo of perverse glory to surround the white-scaled figure.

"Who are you?" Shen gasped, falling back. The molten metal stuck the ground all about, sizzling against the floor. "What are you?"

Golden eyes, glowing a brightly as the ignited steel, met Shen's gaze. All of infinity was encapsulated within those eyes. They were not a mortal's gaze. "I think you know, Lord Shen."

Shen twitched his wing, withdrawing three feather-shaped blades. "You can't be here."

"I am."

"Let me guess," Shen hissed. "Zhu Yaan."

A wide, fanged smile was the response. "Clever bird. You always were."

Shen screeched, a primal sound echoing from deep within. He hurled all three knives in quick succession; however Yaan batted them from the air with the back of his claws. The blades span on the floor, where they began to melt with a sizzle pop-pop.
"What are you doing here?" Shen hissed, drawing more knives. His eyes darted around the room, across Yaan's hooded visage, and back across the room to where Chang...where what had been Chang lay. He had to think, there had to be a way to beat this monster!

He dashed forwards, and span into a high kick at the dragon's head, acting before he had time to consider the consequences. Again, Yaan deflected with a swipe of his hand. His flesh felt like iron beneath Shen's feet. But in the next instant, searing pain encapsulated Shen's body, centered around his feet. His feet were burning! His feet were burning!

Shen rolled away in panic, shaking off the flames that surrounded his talons. He looked up at Yaan in furious panic, breathing heavily.

"There's no way to beat me," Yaan said, smiling another toothy grin. "Not for a mortal like you. But I won't hurt you...It's you I came for, after all."

"How dare you come here," Shen said, his train half-unfurling behind him. Could the dragon read his thoughts? As soon as he had the notion, he could feel it-an ethereal, invisible tendril prodding against his skull. As if sensing that Shen had noticed it, the tendril drew back. That was not good, not at all.

"It's no risk to me," Yaan replied. He folded his claws beneath his sleeves once more. "I do what I wish, I take what I want, and none dare resist. And now, dear Shen, I want you."

Shen hissed. "Y-you're mad."

Yaan carried on as if he hadn't heard. "Surely you noticed that my last emissary was less than impressive. You had him fleeing from you with nothing but feathers and steel. Imagine what you could do with the power of fire at your beck and call! But I don't need to imagine, do I? You made the power of flame and smoke yours without my help, didn't you? Weapons like nothing the world has ever seen. How much change have you brought already, Lord Shen?"

"H-how do you know so much about me?" Shen said in a whisper. He took a step back. The mind-tendril was back now, poking and prodding with more insistence this time. Shen grit his beak and willed it away. His mind was his own.

"I can't think of a more natural partnership," Yaan said, hunching down. He gave the impression of a snake, coiling to strike. "You will become my emissary. It's your destiny."

Shen closed his eyes. Suddenly, the room felt unbearably hot. He could feel it, the dragon's will worming against him, whispering against the walls of his mind. It whispered sweet promises of power unending, a position where no-one would ever look down at him or judge him ever again. And all he had to offer in exchange...was his soul.
It was a sweet offer, Shen could admit. But Shen's soul wasn't his. He owed it to another.

"No," he said. His eyes opened, and he met the dragon's gaze. Blood-red clashed against molten gold. "No, you're wrong. I will never serve you. All that the fire has gained me has been ash and dust. Fantasy. But in the simple warmth of a friend, I found something that lasts. And I will protect it, even from you."

Yaan tilted his head. The air began to waver around him, but his will withdrew. "Strong words for our first meeting, Shen. I never said you would be my emissary willingly."

Shen narrowed his eyes, tightening the grip around his knives. "What?"

"You will not join me now," Yaan said. He drew himself up. "But you will. I just thought I'd tell you about my test."

Test? Shen balked.

"Here's what I want you to do," the dragon continued. "It's crucial that you do exactly as I say."

"I thought I told you–"

"I want you...to venture into the dark forest," Yaan said, his smile growing larger with each word. "Use the map that old fossil gave you, or whatever makes your task easier. Then...I want you to rescue Fenghuang and lead her to the tomb of Long. Defeat Zhung Chai, that failure. Complete your mission."

The energy was sucked out of Shen's lungs. He could feel he train and crest deflating, and he hated how weak he must look. But the dragon's words made no sense! His "test" was to do exactly what Shen had planned to do from the start. Logically, that would mean Yaan was trying to get under his skin. But...why? Wasn't Long the one thing that could hope to stop Yaan? What if there was something he wasn't seeing? There were implications to that, and he could feel them burrowing through his brain like maggots.

"I don't understand..." Shen said at last. "Why...why do you want me to do that?"

Fire exploded from the floor, around Yaan's feet. It curled and twisted, clawing it's way up the dragon's body. Heat rolled off him in waves, so intense that Shen had to step back. However, it was clear Yaan was far from hurt by the scorching heat.
"You do not have to understand, little pawn," he said. "Only obey. I will be in touch."

Then, in a roiling pouf of smoke, the creature was gone, and Shen was left alone in the metal room. Alone with only his twisted, madly spinning thoughts to guide him. Slowly, like a falling tree, Shen sunk to his knees on the floor. His resolve, that had only moments ago been as bright and as clear as the North Star, now seemed...tainted. It felt wrong to be even thinking about going along with Yaan's wishes. But he had to save Po! Didn't he?
Why did Yaan want Shen, of all people, to be his emissary?

Shen had underestimated Yaan, severely.

...

...

Cough.

Chang's body heaved, a rasping gasp straining from his beak. He was alive? Shen leaped to his feet and raced frantically to the old ibis' side.

"Chang! Chang, are you-" he stopped. Up close, it was clear that Chang wasn't going to live, not for much longer. Smoke still streamed from his eyes, making Shen's stomach roil, but...his chest...
Shen gagged, and felt ashamed for doing so. It was so unlike him to be put off by gore.

"Master Chang..." he said, sinking to his knees. "I'm so sorry. I'll get-I'll see if I can find..."

Chang's mouth opened, and words so faint that Shen had to struggle to hear them spilled out of his beak. "Stay."

Shen stopped, and leaned against the cracked wall, thoroughly exhausted in mind and spirit. He looked up at the dying master, and all he could feel, the only clear emotion, was shame.
"I should have done something to save you."

Chang didn't answer, though Shen strained his ears trying to hear. He had to sit, and listen to the rasping, fading breaths. He owed the master that much. Shen could only imagine how much pain Chang was in. All he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears, the feeling that Yaan had robbed him.

"I don't know what to do," Shen said quietly. "Even my most noble intentions are robbed from me. It's ironic."

Silence.

Then Chang heaved forwards. Once, twice, and on the third time, he fell to the hard, cold floor. Shen jumped in panic, rushing to the master's side...but Chang, with a trembling, crawling wing, splayed his feathers against Shen's chest. The ibis tapped once, then twice.

What?

Then Chang slumped, forever still. He left Shen alone in the room, with the warmth of his wings over Shen's chest.

Over Shen's heart.