Chapter Four: Dregs of a Bitter Cup
Damn the wine. It's dizzying even standing still. I'm never drinking again, he promised himself, feeling exposed and vulnerable.
It really was a torrential downpour. In fact, Crane wondered if the storm would impact his ability to find his way back to the city. Flight was out of the question, given his current state. So, alone he stood. He couldn't quell the feeling that this evening had been a mistake.
Crane peered out into the waterfall of sound. Branches whipped back and forth; lightning illuminated needle-thin leaves like millions of daggers. Storms were violent and unpredictable. They didn't care what happened to the landscapes that they terrorized. They didn't care about anything.
Just like Lord Shen… Everyone called him 'Lord' Shen. Did that peacock even have a given name?
Crane sighed, shrugging off the thought.
The very slight creaking of un-oiled hinges behind him won over the watery din.
"Crane." He recognized the voice of Viper.
"Hey," he said without turning around.
Viper waited a second. "Do you want to talk?"
Crane remained where he was, wanting to say something but unable to find the motivation. The pouring rain hypnotized his woozy body.
"Crane, I..." she started, "if there's anything I can do, just let me know."
"I'm fine," he said dismissively.
He heard her coil up behind him, like mail on stone. It was a sound that only snakes made, distinctive over the rain.
"Why did you choose to learn Kung Fu?" he said.
"What? I mean, same reason as you. You were there when I joined The Jade Palace."
"But why did you chose to give up everything?" He leaned toward her, eying her sideways under his hat.
"You had a family, a home. Why give all that up?"
"Hmm," she sighed.
"No one stays with their family forever. Someday, you have to strike out on your own. Don't you agree?"
Crane turned away. "Maybe."
The rasp of scales met his ear again.
"Well, if you change your mind... I'm here to talk. Kay?"
Crane felt a little guilty for denying her company. Viper was always so delicate, especially, it seemed, with him.
"Thank you," he said. It was genuine.
"Crane!" The inn door burst open behind him as Po's voice ruptured the night. "Oh, hi Viper. Having a little Crane time, too?"
She chuckled, and then closed the door behind her.
"Hey Crane, what's up?" Po said; a remarkably innocent greeting.
"Nothing. Just watching the rain." Crane hoped Po would get the message.
"Nice. Rain's cool," Po said, walking up to Crane under the lanai. The bird tried to ignore Po, difficult as that was.
A small hole in the thatched awning allowed a singular drip to jab Crane's hat. The water soaked into the old straw a bit, and settled numbly on his crown. He grunted in discomfort, brushing the moisture away with his long primary feathers.
"Wait, check this out. This is crazy." Po gently pushed him aside, and assumed a rather meditative stance between the pillars.
"Hey, what are you…" Crane stopped as Po caught a droplet on his finger. The panda seemed to absorb the drop into his body. It moved and shifted as he did, as if following a waterfall's ancient path—a mere trickle now, taking a shallow, meandering descent, centuries in the making.
With no finale, Po released the nodule onto the planks by his feet. A burst of unheard lightning backlit the panda's hunched form. The rain seemed to abate to his display.
"Pretty neat, huh," he said with pride.
"Wow. That actually was pretty cool."
"Yeah, learned it from Shifu. 'Inner Peace' technique. It's how I, uh, deflected the cannonballs."
"Oh, yeah. Of course." Crane had gone over that morning in his mind too many times to forget. And Po had made sure to describe the move in detail the morning after sinking Shen's ships. Crane had tried his wing at Inner Peace a few times, but lacked the reactionary skill required to arrest—and maintain control of—any wayward water droplet.
"What's it like having inner peace?" Crane asked, dwelling on the high-level technique.
"I don't feel all that different, actually. Maybe a little more…" Po shrugged. "At peace?"
Crane lidded his eyes. "How surprising."
Po gave a fleeting grin. "After I learned it, I thought that all my worries would just disappear. Like 'poof,' gone. But it's not really like that."
Crane was actually surprised, now. Becoming at peace with oneself meant exactly that. In the pause between the two masters, the rain became the dominant factor in the night once again.
"There's something I want to ask you." Po took a deep breath. "I thought maybe you'd see where I'm coming from."
"Okay," Crane said, a little intrigued. They both stared out past the front steps, occupied by the damp silver landscape.
"Do you believe in destiny?" Po said.
Crane was caught off guard. "Uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, things seem to work out the way they should."
The giant panda crossed his arms. "Oh, okay. Yeah, me too. I think."
Po was still for a short moment.
"It's complicated. Shifu's alway's saying 'destiny this, destiny that…' I don't know."
Po glanced at Crane out of his periphery. "I've been thinking about Tai Lung, actually."
"Hmm?"
"It's like, what was his destiny? To be defeated by me? Seems a little unfair to him, I guess."
Crane tried to understand. "He made his choice. By the time he met you, he was too far gone."
"So he had a choice, then."
"I don't know, Po," Crane said tiredly, "some people are just evil. That's what we do, right? Fight evil people."
"I know, but I didn't even give him a chance! I had beaten him... and then 'Skadoosh.' Dead. Maybe I could've helped him instead."
Crane took a clumsy step toward the panda beside him.
"Hey, it's alright," he said, raising a warm wing, "you did the right thing. Who knows what kinda destruction he would've caused."
Po chuckled singly, then sighed.
"I just thought I could do it different this time. In the harbor, I thought that maybe I could help Shen. To be different. To choose."
Crane paused, taking his wing away. "You what?"
"We had a little chat before his boat exploded. I wanted to forgive him."
The storm clouds slowly drifted across the full moon. Thunder welcomed yet more rain. Crane had no idea why Po would feel sympathy toward one so obviously beyond saving.
"What happened?" Crane asked, curious as to what was said.
"He attacked me."
Crane faltered. "Po, it was... noble of you to show kindness, but seriously, Lord Shen is the last person you can expect to change. What did you think would happen? It's just in his nature. He's evil. Like Tai Lung."
Po sat, bracing himself on a hefty arm. The panda looked down at something his paws.
"Maybe I think it's weird that destiny chooses who's evil and who isn't."
But that's how destiny works, Crane wanted to point out. But even he was not sure as to the nature of such things.
Crane noticed that Po was holding a small object. It was the same one he had dropped outside of the bar earlier. It appeared to be some kind of doll, singed with black soot. The way Po gripped it tightly was disconcerting.
"Where did you get that from?"
Po continued to stare at his clenched paws. "Well, actually, I—"
A distant howl interrupted his sentence.
"What's that?" Crane said, homing his beak toward the horizon.
A second howl followed. Then a third. Crane hunched and glanced around—alert, but slow because of the wine. He cursed himself.
"Wolves," Po said with despair, righting himself, "uh, let's go get the others."
Just then, a hint of movement jostled Crane's attention to the tree line. "Wait!"
Crane unfurled his wings halfway, feeling sluggish. Blobs of activity rendered at the end of his vision. A leafy rustle melded with the relentless percussive drops. Above it all, unmistakable fervent yipping.
Wolves!
Crane tried to prepare himself. He settled into his fighting stance, and gasped when he lost his balance. Before he could recenter, a group of wolves, dozens strong and counting, emerged in the clearing before The Cherry Blossom Inn. Dim orange light from the window caught in the approaching fur, highlighted beyond the glimmering drops.
"Crane?" Po said with worry.
The wolves, almost clearly visible now, rushed toward the inn on all fours. Crane braced himself for the attack, backing up against Po.
"Get back!" he said, inching toward the door of the inn. There wasn't enough time; they would have to hold off the wolves themselves.
But right as the wolves entered the pool of light, they diverted course. Pelts flowed around the building like a cursed river covered in topaz beads. Mud and loam flung around the scrabbling paws, intensifying the smell of moss.
They're not attacking... they're running. Crane finally realized.
The wolves desperate panting was intercut with one repeated phrase:
"The Yellow-eyed Demon! Run!"
"What's happening? Where are they going?" Po said over the raging tempest of feet and water.
"I don't know. But we should get inside."
He motioned Po to the door. Suddenly, the last of the wolves trod on the forsaken, muddy ground. The yelps of terror receded behind the bar with a dreamlike quality. Crane stole a glance back to the path, and his breath caught.
A flash of pale lightning revealed a solitary galloping form, faster than the wolves. With the fading light approached a pair of devilish yellow eyes.
"Get inside, now!" Crane yelled, spinning around with urgency. He was almost to the door when he heard a familiar voice from the path.
"Stop!"
He skidded to an ungraceful stop, and turned to see Po staring saggy-armed at the furred figure which had since altered its stance to a jog.
"Tigress?" Po said with disbelief.
It was Tigress, Crane realized with shock. She entered the colored light with a calm strut, panting ever so slightly. The tiger's red qipao reflected magmatic hues in the streaming rain. Her yellow scleras almost glowed under her fixed scowl. Po started toward her.
"Tigress!" he said with relief. "What's—"
"Come." she ordered as she walked up the steps, blocking Po with a muscled arm.
"Wait," Crane said, "Are you the one—"
"Come," Tigress repeated, flashing him a sinister glare. Her striped fur was damp and lusterless. She continued to the inn's door, which she promptly threw open. Crane hesitated, then stepped after her as she entered the bar.
The storm outside was muted as Po closed the door behind them. Quiet apprehension weaved its way into Crane's feathers. Tigress wasn't here to drink with them; that much was certain. Something was very wrong.
"...I think you've had quite enough," Viper's lilac voice floated across the orange-lit room, more bitter than usual.
"Yeah! I have!" Mantis growled, slamming his cup down, "why do you think I wanted us to come here?"
Monkey shook his head and hummed with discontent. Evidently, the three hadn't noticed them enter, nor the sound of the wolves that had just passed.
"You think you can just boss me around, too?" Mantis slurred his words.
"Enough," Tigress proclaimed. Her command was simultaneously soft and forceful, like a battalion of rhinos with pillows for armor. She stopped in the middle of the room, leaning forward and dripping with intensity.
Mr. Wan peeked up from behind his bar, eyes wide with fascination—or perhaps, terror.
"Tigress?" Viper said, surprised.
"All of you are coming with me, back to Gongmen City. I'm taking you to Shifu." Tigress said, stern and ambivalent.
Crane stood rooted on the reflective floor behind her. There was no avoiding it. They would have to confess to Shifu. Po halted beside him and gripped a finger.
"Tigress, it's, uh, good to see you?" he said tentatively, with a hint of a squirm.
"Ugh," she grunted, palming her face. She turned and waved for the entrance.
"Now."
"No!" Mantis shouted, "I'm staying right here. And you can't make me!"
"Mantis, you're drunk," Tigress said, clenching her fists, "you're not thinking straight."
The bug scowled indignantly. His whole head appeared to redden. Crane stepped toward the table to avoid an altercation. They had enough to worry about already.
"Come on. We can talk about this tomorrow. Let's go," he said.
"Oh, of course, Master Crane." Mantis made a mocking gesture.
"You always were such a pushover."
"Pushover!" Crane stammered at the bug.
"Yeah. You just let everyone walk all over you. Well," Mantis wobbled and caught himself.
"I'm not like you. I wanna get out there. Start a family. Get my head eaten. You don't care about anything more than scrolls and meditation forms."
"I... what?" The words bit at Crane like stinging hail.
Is that how he sees me?
"Be quiet. Both of you," Tigress snapped in annoyance.
"We don't have time for this. The city has just been attacked," she said, controlled rage gripping her words.
"Wolves ransacked the fireworks factory. When I went looking for you, all I found was a note in Crane's room."
Mantis gawked at Crane. "You left a note?"
Crane grimaced in embarrassment while Tigress crossed her arms.
"The wolves were waiting on the outskirts of the city. We should have been there to stop them."
"Maybe I'll go fight them myself!" Mantis gargled before stumbling face first into an empty cup.
Tigress sighed, this time more from exhaustion than irritation, it seemed.
"Grab him," she said with apathy, pointing to Monkey.
Arguments quelled, Tigress led the misshapen group to the exit. Viper and Po questioned Tigress, and Monkey cupped a now unconscious Mantis in his hands. Crane joined them when they passed, walking behind them with taught, tapping steps.
Guilt and shame cascaded on Master Crane. Sheets of pelting regret soaked him down to his hollow bones. Shifu would be furious, and most likely leverage even more stringent restrictions on them. Even worse, his decisions had put the lives he had sworn to protect in danger. Just one bad choice had brought dishonor on the art of Kung Fu and on the Jade Palace. Crane had betrayed his purpose and his identity. He had let his desires get in the way of duty.
"Wait! Can I get your autographs?" Mr. Wan shouted to no avail.
Crane passed by the last of the morbid banquet tables and caught his reflection in the dead wood. Just minutes ago he had been laughing and carousing with his closest friends. All was well, the city was safe, and he was happy. But destiny had other plans.
As Crane closed the door behind him for the last time, a thought occurred to him.
"The wolves," Crane said out loud, feeling his resolve return.
Maybe there was something he could do to prove that he was still capable.
"I can follow them," Crane lurched ahead of the group, flapping to gain extra speed.
I can fix this.
"No! We're going back to the city."
Crane surged past Tigress' outstretched paws, unimpeded. He landed at the rainy curtain just before the rickety awning ended.
"Crane, don't. You're in no state to fight, and besides, the storm is too strong. You can't fly."
"Watch me," he challenged, adjusting his hat and taking off.
Pushover my ass. Immediately, a hundred pebbles of water caught his wings and back. He grunted as his feathers' oily coating deflected the streaming drops. Ignoring the chill, he angled his wings and banked to follow the wolves trail, his friends forms vanishing in the night.
Crane remained low to the tree-line, relying on his tuned directional sense for orientation... although his internal compass seemed to be a bit off. Clouds intermittently shuttered the moon, plunging the land into uncertain darkness. Spanning above him, an inverted mountain landscape twinged with turquoise. It drained rivers and lakes mercilessly on black shapes of trees whipping past him.
Crane caught sight of wolf-trodden soil as lightning blared. Looking forward again, Crane gasped, tucked his wings in and rolled to avoid a tall pine. His trailing legs clipped the needles as he avoided the tree. Blasting his wings open again, Crane fought the choppy air to gain much needed height. Another bolt flashed, revealing the silver scar of a river in the distance. The wolves couldn't have gone any further than that.
The peaked clouds enveloped him as he ascended. The pelting rain stopped, and the world became a muffled silver-blue. Moisture accumulated on his leg bangles and the corners of his eyes. He was able to glide as the air quieted—fighting the storm had driven him into a steady pant. His biceps ached; left wing especially.
Crane realized that he had no idea what to do whence he caught up to the wolves. He was wearied and out of sorts. With a huff, he glanced to the endless mist under him. At that moment, a severe gust twisted his body in opposite directions. His hat caught in the gale, and was torn forcefully from his head. Crane righted himself and hovered, watching as his hat whistled into the void.
"No!" he shouted, snapping his wings close to his body.
After gaining considerable speed, the cloud thinned, and led him into the violent tempest once more. Sword-like trees swayed in a haphazard frenzy, threatening him with a quick landing. It took a dozen heavy flaps to level out the dive. He squeezed his eyes shut under the strain, relieved when his body stopped only a few feather's-lengths from the wild branches. Water poured over his uncovered head. A sustained fork of lighting reflected in the river, sidelong to the trees, as he helplessly scanned the forest.
His dampened clothes pulled him earthward as his labored flaps became untenable. With no other option, he slanted to the metal-grey riverbank. Rain lessened somewhat as he sullenly descended, as if to mock his failure. His hat was just another casualty of the reckless night. His one piece of home lost in a foolish attempt to redeem himself.
Crane impacted on the bank of the river, bruising his toes on the deceptively hard sand. He shivered and let his wings fall to his sides. Wolves forgotten, he shut his eyes as an intense throbbing set into his head, oblivious to the rain on his back. When his breathing stabilized somewhat, Crane lifted his head and surveyed his surroundings with glazed eyes. The thinning clouds allowed a tenuous polished light to grace the rushing waterfront.
The tree cover was thick here compared to the lowlands surrounding the Gongmen peninsula. Spiked branches cast angry silhouettes against the lead sky. A rocky ledge separated the forest from the beach, and the narrow river on his left frothed with newly fallen currents.
Far through the fog was a huge natural archway, poised like a gate of stone. Crane didn't remember seeing an arch when first sailing into the city—this must be a different branch of the Yangtze river entirely. In the rainfall, odd rocks lined the beach; they were long and rectangular. Though, they looked familiar somehow.
Crane took a step forward to get a closer look, and stumbled when the ground below him listed, and creaked. He was standing on one of the odd square rocks—not a rock, he realized, but a half-burned log. He stared in the direction of the moon along the riverbank, observing wooden debris scattered everywhere.
We dumped rocks in the river, not the wood. How did it end up here?
Crane adjusted his wings and moved forward skeptically. One of the trees at the edge of the water caught his eye. None of the other trees grew that close to the shore.
Suddenly, his vision shifted, and the tree resolved itself into the broken bow of a ship. Crane parted his jaw, amazed that such a massive piece could've made it this far inland.
That's one of Lord Shen's ships.
He tried to flap towards it, momentarily forgetting his burning wings. He grunted in pain and scampered in the forgiving sand.
The bow was rent through with charred holes, but miraculously held upright—the bowsprit pierced through the turbulent sky in a stark, resilient defiance. Steady rain pattered off the cut logs with insidious thunks. Wind gusted, sending creaks and shivers through the tenuous structure. It smelled of damp sawdust and gunpowder, both familiar and unpleasant.
When Crane was able to see around the upright railing, he froze. Something was moving through the rubble, frantically scratching boards and timbers aside. It was cloaked in a scarlet robe, shiny and purple in the rain-stricken night. Crane crouched and stepped backwards, never taking his eyes off of the creature. His foot landed on a board, causing it to creak slightly from his weight.
Crane was rendered immobile as his face was met with two glowing yellow eyes—two unholy suns in a world of eternal dusk. A bird's beak curled from beneath a dark hood.
His breath caught and he tried to turn away—to run, fly, anything—but was unable to even flinch. He was held in an embrace of pure fear—but in that fear, there was a thirst. A thirst of want and desire. A thirst for the embrace of salvation.
The yellow-eyed creature squawked; it was a broken, pained cry, but unmistakably avian. Then, it leapt vertically five full wingspans, before crimson fire erupted from its end. Propelled by the rocket-like jets, it vanished into the clouds above, with nothing more than a receding low crackle.
With the birdlike creature's departure, the immobilizing miasma that held Crane dissipated. His heart pounded from the incomparable feeling that had gripped him. He felt tarnished, as if his soul was laid bare for a few unending seconds.
What the hell was that thing? he thought, trying to draw the pieces together.
No... It can't be. A terrifying possibility presented itself to him.
It was impossible. It didn't make sense. He was sure that Lord Shen was dead.
He had to be dead.
Crane was about to rush away when a flash of silver caught in the full moon. It was too dark to be certain, but bits of grey gave off a different luster among the lifeless sand and wood.
Crane jumped as a board wobbled on its own accord.
"H- hello?" he stammered, balancing on one leg.
Another powerful flurry of wind breezed through his feathers. He lashed his head upward as the groaning of the ship intensified; a few sharp cracks resonated in the unhinged night. Crane stood paralyzed with a wing abreast, eyes agape at the temple of fate learning in front of him. And in the debris...
There it was. A white head with grey eyelids lay sullied amongst the field of wood.
Lord Shen's body... Crane felt sick.
But if Shen is dead, then what just flew away...?
Crane saw the peacock move his head ever so slightly.
H- He's alive?
With a final thunderous split, the bow began to tilt forward. There was no time to think. Crane leaped for the peacock, ignoring his expired wings. He kicked off the debris and grabbed the limp collection of feathers with both feet, fervently flapping to escape the squealing tower of wood.
He felt a breath of air on his tail feathers as a cascading crash echoed on the shore. Splinters showered beside him, striking his back and neck. Crane tried to land softly as each wingstroke diminished his already overextended psyche.
With the last of his strength, Crane lowered the damp object below him. He released it on the wet sand before flipping over and impacting hard on his back. The sand truly was deceptively hard.
Why did I do that...
He gasped for air and let his wings splay to his sides. Rainwater fell into his gaping mouth and onto his raspy tongue. He tried to lift his leg, but the decorative rings on them were as heavy as training weights. He lay on his back and waited for the fatigue to subside.
Po's words reverberated in his mind: Maybe I think it's weird that destiny chooses who's evil and who isn't.
After a few agonizing minutes, with a modicum of sanity reunited, Crane sat up.
All at once, the rain became unbearably loud. Crane's breathing reignited as his ankles sunk in the silver sand. Wind howled through the trees like maniacal wolves. The undead light of the full moon revealed that which shouldn't be. Before him, nestled burned and robe-less, was the sooty, unconscious face of Lord Shen.
A/N
There you have it. I tried hard not to rush Tigress'-or Shen's-introduction. This chapter took a while to get to a place where I was happy with it. I'm attempting to wrangle multiple overarching story elements that come into play later, while keeping current events relevant in the future of the fic. I hope that I'm laying myself a fair groundwork.
The reviews I have gotten so far have been so encouraging and helpful. I cannot express the depths of gratitude I have for anyone who chooses to read my labor of love. Great things are brewing; I will not let you down!
Toward the beginning of the chapter, I use the word 'lanai' describing the awning of the inn. Lanai is a traditional Hawai'ian term for a covered awning, basically. I lived in Hawai'i for a while and am a bit attached to the word lol. Sorry if it is confusing.
I'll leave you with that. Next chapter will be available this Chinese New Year. A significant date for a significant chapter, veritably. Until next time.
