Qìé Chéng was a small port-side village basked in gray light. Here, one can look at the overcast skies and rightfully expect a miserable downpour, but they would never experience such drizzle in the coming months. On an artificial plateau erecting through the rocky shore were stone-built, wooden-roofed barracks that surrounded a small center of shops and local services—a conglomerate that tried veinly to replicate the diverse entrepreneurial livelness found in more authentic towns. The village remained at the outskirts, for the real purpose of the settlements was to temporarily accommodate the people who worked on the city's most important grounds—the only feature that made the whole place relevant.
Starting atop a perilous cliff edge, brutalist cinder blocks firmly projected out and formed the imposing fortifications of Anxi Zhi Le prison. The parameter of such was non-geometric, sprawling down all over the slope of the rocky hill in sharp and adaptive angles, having been placed there much like a haphazardly dropped towel that took the form of whatever it hugged. Both ends of this brick-wall circuit nearly met on the underside of the cliff, by the base of one of the fiord coast's extensions of land—which served as a natural landing dock for ships that rarely come. A grand metal gate connected this all.
Inside the impressive fortifications was a square-based building that stacked high upon itself in ever minimizing cubed superstructures; at its highest point was a tight-platformed watchtower that held a large grail of fire. Uncannily straight grids extended from end to end on the prison's dimensionless and barren surface area—these were mortar joints that starkly outlined the building's monotonously perfected brickwork. At first glance, it appeared to be that only functionality was considered in the process of designing the structure—but it was unnaturally and deliberately symmetric, as if its architecture was permanently meant to convey a sort of systemic barbarism—the most frightening standard of what a lawful society could do to its outliers.
Tigress lurched forward. The wall of their ship had just broadsided against the rockface, forcing the vessel to finally slow down when Rushi couldn't commadeer it to. They had been on a dangerous race against pirates, never once slowing down—and although they had miraculously gapped the shallow-drafted fleet and finally made it to land, the vestigial energy of the chase still trapped them in a moment of rush.
Qìé Chéng's tides barely brought in any ships. A group of anticipating ducks and pigs were already on the edge of the embayment, ready to rig their junk as it sailed inside. At last, the vessel was grated into a complete stop.
Tigress kicked the ramp that led downwards, alighting the boat just as quickly as the port workers began to ascend the plank. She went on to approach the remaining gathering by the coast who seemed to have been overseeing the entire process. "Hello, my name is Tigress. I am a student from the Jade Palace."
"You're far from home." A spotted pig spoke. "State your reason for being here."
"It's urgent. We brought in a captured ship, there's an unconscious militia inside." Turning around, she watched the coalition of pigs and geese anchor the impressive boat onto the moor while the rest of her team broke down the barricades on the door that led down to the hold. "We need them imprisoned right away."
"And why? We can't just take in people without reasoning."
"They've stolen military resources. Lots of it."
The pig placed both hands on his hips. He'd long been the warden in his beloved prison—in fact, he had retired on this career. Never had he handled a conspiracy potentially this big. "Huh. Can you supply me the list of stolen things?"
"It's not what you'd think. They're transporting loads of some sleep-inducing liquid."
"Just that?"
The tiger scratched the back of her ear. "Yes. The boxes, they still have their imperial emblem."
"Very well." He traced his eyes up the ship's mast. A small, black flag was suspended, snapping into many different folds with the wind—not exactly the mark of an emperor's pride. "I will call on my strong division. They can handle the men you've incapacitated. You and your members can come with me." Signaling with a raised hoof, a goose on his side took off, flapping towards the distant prison.
Tigress stood in place. "I should mention there's more than a hundred criminals in there. I and my friends… we should help in any way we can."
"And I should have mentioned that I have more than a hundred of my own men. They'll do fine." The pig began strolling down the pebbled embankment towards the congregation of housing. "Now please, call on your people."
The juvenile warriors could barely settle themselves. A day of seafaring has spellbinded them into the illusion that the earthly grounds still moved like waves. Tigress could feel her knees buckle, expecting to walk along sudden dips and rises. The rumbling of the ocean surf behind her waned away, and that in some form helped restore the sense of her own whereabouts.
The village had no streets. The area appeared to be just a wide courtyard with bleak, uniform homes scattered about. There was no way of knowing where they were heading, for there was not a significant structure in the encampment seemingly befitting for the pig warden ahead of them.
At some point they made it to the miniature municipal district—six bungalows that shared a small pavilion. A short-run cable of banners crossed two of the parallel roofs, flags painted in many colors. Instead of being some sort of visionary relief to the grayscale backdrop, the rainbows were a painful, taunting eyesore.
The pig had entered the threshold of the only building that didn't suspend a public sign of its services, holding the door out open for them. "Welcome to my humble abode."
Tigress entered, followed closely by her more hesitant team members. The warmth was the first thing to envelop them; when their sights adjusted, the orange glimmers of light, which was sourced by a wealth of candles encompassing the home's interior, was what welcomed them next. Shortly ahead, a couple steps led down to a recessed floor. The moment the tiger stepped into the pit, the sole of her foot met with the softest material. Pillows of all shapes and sizes covered the entire ground.
The home was set up much like a theater. The candle-lit parlor that greeted them at the front was the stage; beyond, a drape of darkness revealed nothing else. The kitchen, rooms, hallways—spaces that constituted a true house—all remained backstage.
"This thing, I sense it's one hell of a mess isn't it? Too large to grasp by ourselves. I've handled scum of the Earth idiots and sick murderers. But I admit my uncertainty on this thing too. Who do you think is behind all this?"
"We'll find out soon." Tigress said.
The pig shouldered passed them, going around the back of a refectory table that nestled in the middle of the pit. "This should be handled by the powers that be. Shall I start making letters?"
The tiger watched him sit cross-legged on a pile of satin comforters. Her knees weakened once more, envying such contentment. "Please. This must not remain at large."
"I'll send my best flyer. Du Yi, that's his name. Wonderful avian. He has the wingspan of a great western dragon." The pig took out a piece of parchment and began scribbling on it rapidly. After a while, he stopped, readjusting his spectacles. "Brief me on more details about this heist, if you can."
"There isn't much to say. We haven't looked into a lot of the stuff they have yet." Mantis said.
He rolled up the scroll and conclusively dropped his pen in ink. "That is fine. My men will retrieve a few things from the ship, and we can take a closer look ourselves. You've mentioned potions?"
"Yes." Tigress answered.
"I'll bring in the local apothecary—he'll see what he can take away from it. Once your captives wake up, we'll begin the questioning as well." The pig turned. "Maia!"
Suddenly appearing from the dark mouth of the house, a small pangolin rolled to his side.
Perhaps it was just in the nature of her build, but her withdrawn hands that clasped timidly together left a certain impression of fear. "What can I do for you my lord?"
"Notify Xhou first to come here. And then, make a copy of this message and give them to Du Yi. I want him to send this one to the closest imperial garrison. He should go to the Master's Council right after-"
"Wait." Tigress jolted, holding out a hesitant finger. When the attention she demanded abruptly drew towards her, she felt tempted to pull her digit back and recede in the shadows. "Please, if it's possible. Make it the Jade Palace instead."
The pig tilted his head down, looking beyond his spectacles. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"If you insist." He looked at Maia again. "Let Du Yi know that we intend to send these people a follow-up on details. They just need to heed this warning urgently."
"I will, my lord." She bowed considerably, laying hold of the scroll. It took her a few yielding steps backwards before she could break from her trained venerance and roll out of the building.
"Now, while we wait, how about we get ourselves more acquainted." He refocused on Tigress. "Normally I wouldn't completely believe the person if they came up to my shores and claimed to be some student from a prodigious kung fu temple. But you -I knew I knew you. You're one famous tiger here."
Tigress stifled a mutter, finding it hard to absorb the admiration that the pig had just implied. His eyes were small and beady—even smaller behind his spectacles, which were propped so loosely at the end of his wrinkly snout. He seemed too old and too serious to still play around with flattery.
Her intended silence hadn't stopped him from rambling on. "Seeing how we receive a hundred percent of our funds from the Jade Palace, I had to keep up with the news. You're the second prodigy—so I've heard. What you're doing now?—I can see how you can live up to that name. Keep up the good work, kid."
"Ayyye." Monkey slapped the tiger's back, unusually enthralled by the warden's simplest compliments. "You heard that? We're doing good!"
"And so what about the rest of you? I imagine you guys come from different kung fu schools. I haven't quite recognized of you people." The pig faced the assembly behind Tigress.
"Most of us came from the Jade Palace actually. Doesn't exactly mean we're students there yet." Monkey found the liberty to stroll towards a table of burning incense. He poked a puddle of melted wax surrounding the wick of a squat candle. "I guess you can say we're worthy first-timers."
The pig's eyes followed the simian closely. "I see. Then I assure you, I and my team will be of great help to you young folks. We have years worth of experience. Our prison is a pillar of strength. And we will relieve you of any further duties the best we can."
"Cool!" Mantis chuckled. "So, essentially, we can just kick back and relax now."
The warden hadn't taken the joke as it is. "In fact you may. You can accommodate yourselves in the hut a short walk from here, just to your left once you exit —Maia will take you. I apologize in advance about our conditions here, but I'd imagine your stay wouldn't be too long."
Yeah, it certainly won't. Tigress thought.
Shortly after, there was a creaking from the door behind them. A goose poked his head inside. "The apothecary received your word Warden. But I'm afraid he can't come here. In fact, he's asking for the guests to come by his place."
"Odd, but I suppose it's for a good reason?"
"It is sir. We've found two kinds of substances in the ship, one of which the medic claims to be extraordinary. Far beyond his understanding."
"Two potions?" Mantis twitched his antenna, anxious. "Man, I must have missed that other one entirely."
"It was at the back of the ship sir. It's easy to look past." The goose answered.
"Then to his place it is." The pig left his seat, moving to the exit.
The servant became broad-eyed by his warden's efforts. He pushed the door wide before the pig could hold it open for the warriors as he originally intended. "I can take them there myself master."
"Very well. Thank you, Guo. Treat them well."
Once again, they entered the pallid streets. The warmth that was emitted by the warden's candles swept away from their skin the moment they began walking, replaced by the seaside breeze. Despite the dreariness, Tigress liked it better out here. She breathed freshly oxidized air, the toxic fumes from the pig's incense draining from her nostrils.
A few workers she'd seen by the shore were already roaming about the village. She assumed they were done working with the ship, but she didn't have it in her to ask them. Walking strictly on the sides of the road, they appeared to be quiet and amongst themselves. Like half-conceived entities in dreams, they were people that one can't simply interact with.
"Maybe it's best to relocate our enemies to a different prison some day." Tigress spoke under her breath.
Monkey, who was the only one within an earshot while the rest of the group moved ahead of them, treated her mutterings as an open conversation. "Huh? Why? I kind of like this place. It's not like we have much options anyways."
"I know it sounds bad." She rubbed the back of her neck. Even she could see the ridiculousness of her assertion. "There is a reason, it's just…"
Silence.
He waited a second. "Just what?"
At loss of words, the tiger partially disengaged, looking over to the faraway prison tower, which projected so high up that it was cutting apart the clouds that floated by. Faint yells from prisoners dragged out to the air in great lengths, enough to reach the town and echo through the deserted alleyways. Her ears twitched upon hearing the dismal hints of suffering.
She was keen on avoiding the conversation much longer; if she spoke her speculations in truth, they wouldn't hold. Suspicions shouldn't arise from the way the pig's eyes were or how the people lived here—it was a ridiculous judgment of character.
She sighed, "I just have a bad feeling."
Ticking noises.
One of the apothecary's greatest marvels was his revolving table, which served to prop up his vast collection of bottled substances. Normally, it would be one hell of a task to sift through the cramped field of upright breakables, but the table allowed for such necessary meticulousness. Put together by concentric shells, the face of this furniture could be dialed at any given layer, mechanically repositioning the circular arrangement of the glassware on top in the way the toggler pleased. The repetitive clicking that was set off when the stratal was turned by some degree was only part of the precision. With great patience, the bull made some much needed modifications in the set up.
Right this minute, he had just received one very novel potion, and it deserved a prominent spot on his table. The vacant slot finally wheeled towards him, and he could carefully slide the purple-colored mixture in place. He tilted his head to the side, admiring the peculiar substance. "Now aren't you just precious..."
There was a knock on the bull's door. He jerked out of his locked gaze.
Such courtesy was the first and final indicator that those who stood outside were his awaited guests—any idiot inhabitant tended to barge in these days.
"Come in." The apothecary ordered, observing them as they entered. A tiger came first, then a snake, followed by a bug.
Perfect, perfect.
Like they were mirror opposites, the bull's fingers began drumming against each other, falling in the right time, tapping on the exact place. "Sorry for being such a bother." He started. "I needed to discuss a few things right away, but I didn't want to distract from my current research. It's better if you hear me ramble while I continue. So please, get yourselves comfortable. The sitting area right here." He ushered them by the corner to a one-diner table that was surrounded on all sides by several chairs cramped together.
The much larger members of the group—Tigress, Tung and Rushi—elected to stand.
He sheepishly laughed off his lack of foresight. "Again, sorry for the inconvenience. I've made some tea for the soul. It's the least I could do. The goose—he's my assistant…"
"I'm right here, sir." The brown-robed bird that had escorted the young warriors to his place appeared by his feet.
"Oh yes. If you can be so kind and hand it to them. It's in the pantry."
"Of course, master." The servant waddled around some partition.
"Now, back to more pressing matters..." The bull moved away, entering the kitchen. Clashing against several flasks on the floor, he navigated to the stove on his toes.
The apothecary took a bellow from the countertop and began blowing on the flames that were currently cooking a large pot of admixture. "So there are two potions yes? First one is simple—well, it would have been simple indeed. It's a valerian solution."
"Hah! I was right." Monkey yelled. When the goose passed the tray of tea to him, he snatched a cup and swung it to his lips like it was a glass of beer.
"I'm impressed you got it. But I fear that isn't just it. They've added components that I can't quite identify for now—"
"You can tell they've added something. It's from the smell, right?" The simian dangled on to the diminishing satisfaction in his correctness.
"Indeed young one. And from what I'm guessing, that mysterious substance is there to ease the reaction with this." The bull pushed a bottle of the purple substance across the counter closer to them. "Now this one is the real mystery. I've got not one clue what it is. What it's made of. I've done a few experiments with it already… take a look." He started stirring the heated concoction before him. The grayish liquid fermented, bubbling and frothing. "Highly reactive with the valerian solution. If they were to process this together, they'd need to use whatever its applications are quickly."
A sudden ruckus made everyone jolt.
Tigress would have fallen, had she not abruptly collapsed all her weight on the table with a steadying hand, crashing through the people who sat in between. Her breaths were shallow, her eyes dilated; the paw that supported trembled weakly.
Seconds after, Rushi's body also folded in, her cheeks puffed as it held in vomit. The golden cat ran out the building, and Tung chased after her.
The apothecary stood idly, as if he had expected this. "Intriguing. It also registers inside the body incredibly quickly."
Looking at the tea that she had brought right before her lips, Viper knew right away what had happened. She dropped the cup and promptly unhanded everybody else by whipping her tail around. Chinaware exploded; liquids cascaded to the ground.
Fast in action, Monkey leaped from his chair and took down the bull with a roundhouse kick on his chest. He straddled the downed traitor. "What's wrong with you? You poisoned us!"
"And for good reason." The medic wrestled with the simian's hands, which threatened to grip his throat.
"What good reason?"
His voice strained. "You're a great and diverse sample size. Species that we never see here on this coast. I had to take advantage of it! I have to know what it does to you."
All hell broke loose behind them— Monkey glanced momentarily. Viper and Mantis were hard by Tigress' now supine form.
Even more desperate, the simian brought a fist to the bull's cheek, making his head snap sideways. "You better find a way to heal her. She's dying!"
He groaned in pain, facing him once more. "I assure you she isn't. If they wanted to make something deadly, there's a million other concoctions out there that are significantly simpler than what they had made."
"How do you know for sure?"
"I just told you! Please, have trust in me. I even gave some to my beloved goose. This is a calculated risk."
The servant popped his head out of the hallways. "What?!"
"I don't care." Monkey clenched his jaw tight, such that a ringing in his ears started to crescendo. "You have to fix this."
"The only way to do so is to wait it out."
A deafening roar.
Monkey dropped the altercation at once, turning to the source again.
Tigress had managed to pull herself up into a stand by practically climbing up the adjacent wall. Her extended claws punctured handholds into the flat wood, and she remained clasping on these as if she couldn't naturally support herself on two feet. Her mouth hanging open, she produced a sick guttural growl so prolonged that it seemed like the noise was unintentionally leaking out of her throat.
"Tigress, what's going on?" Viper yelled.
"I don't know, I don't know." The tiger's limbs wobbled, and once again she was on the ground. Some of her senses were dulling quickly, the colors beyond her blurring. People's loudness as they called out to her merged and turned gibberish. But in an imbalanced tradeoff, she could start to feel the graininess of the floorboards, and all the impacts acted upon them from everyone's slightest movements. Several thousand smells flared all at once, yet this great amalgamation of different flavors had not turned into an ambiguous cloud; she could pinpoint any scent as if they had space and depth. Some of them started to smell good.
When she opened her mouth to notify the others of this experiential occurrence, a snarl—deeper than what she had ever produced—jumped ahead of her own words.
Viper appeared in her limiting vision, talking to her mutely. Being the only thing in the opaque backdrop that looked palpable and clear, Tigress had the urge to pin the snake down, holding onto her like a lifeline.
She was assured that the creature now beneath her paws must not go anywhere; its slithery body was invaluably corporeal and kept this world materialized. The flesh and scales cracked and squeezed under her grasp. It was simply too essential to let go, even if it now thrashed around, beginning to inflict some pain on her arm.
The tiger's vision finally reached its most crippling state. Her world turned completely dark.
A gradient map from blue to black was the first thing Tigress perceived as she pried her eyes open. In the seconds following this moment, dimension came into her senses. The once flat panel of darkness now expanded below her, much closer than the distancing blue above.
Tigress was underwater again. And just as she had established this, a pressing weight developed in her chest. Not this again! Gasping in pain, she let bubbles escape her mouth. The constriction within worsened.
An intense force was abruptly exerted on her back, blasting her further downwards. Fighting the great atmospheric resistance building around her torpedo-like body, the tiger turned around, treading upright.
Some distance away from her was the rhino. Master Mengyao, she was certain he was. At any given instant, he should be right beside her, punching every open spot in her body. Last time, she was hopelessly sinking. Even if she had tried evading his entanglement, his combative dominance had kept her overwhelmed, allowing him to continually anchor her down with him.
This time, he remained withdrawn, far across from her. She could take this window of opportunity and shoot back up the ocean surface, saving herself from the trouble.
But some of her doubts desperately needed concrete answers.
Even from this deepness, aquatic refractions of light reached the rhino and allowed his mask to reflect a pronounced glimmer. With every turn of the underwater riptides, the spot of brilliance was stirred and snuffed out, and in the briefest moments that the ocean settled, it brightened anew: the light pulsated, calling to her like an encoded message.
Tigress did not need to swim closer to him. A sudden cylindrical current summoned by the tiger's sides conveniently, spouting her right at his spot. Despite her approach, the rhino had not moved from his sentinel-like form. She passed a hand across his lifeless face, and his eyes had not followed. Decisively, she took the stillness as a chance to finally clasp on his mask and pull it away.
What she discovered next struck her harder than any concrete blow. Intense blue eyes met her own with a flashing intensity.
"Master Shifu?"
Mired by disbelief, she swung at his face, trying to swat away whatever fog of illusions manifested the head of her red panda master there. But the strike landed on palpable skin—it was the truest material. His white fur, his red patterns, and his frightening deadpan that never once contorted: no one else wore those same qualities.
No, this couldn't be. It couldn't!
The tide of shock receded, and a much larger surge of fury took over the tiger. Winding her torso back again, she brought forth a renewed punch with greater commitment, hitting him on the chest. The raw strength of her palm strike never failed. He shot through the great expanse of water in a mere second, dwindling to such an extent that he became nothing but a black dot to Tigress.
Removing the immediate threat allowed her to finally consider priorities that came in second. Air. She desperately needed it.
The tiger looked above. So far away was the vast sapphire vault of the clear ocean surface that now it seemed as unattainable as the heavens. With her best efforts, she began swimming upwards.
Each repetitious stroke of her limbs barely propelled her, as it was sufficient in the range of movement but lacking in force: it seemed she had to compel herself to do these same volutions thousands of more times. The boiling heat in her body turned discrepant, chilly yet feverish. Her eyes tried veinly to shed away the burn and pressure it felt through tears. Eventually, she reached the realm of bluer light, the sunbeams above only growing brighter. At the climax of her pain, her body had numbed partially —but this was little relief.
She closed her eyes, unable to grasp what this may all lead up to. Has death finally caught up to her?
It didn't. Tigress felt her extended fingertips rift apart a film of water, and with one last push she brought herself above. There was no explosive breakthrough, no volatile splashing, no desperate breathing—the tiger had wasted away even the primeval aggressiveness found in one's most violent and determined pursuit for survival. She barely re-emerged, and she was barely taking in air.
"Tigress! What do you think you're doing?" A gruff and all-too familiar voice yelled.
Shifu?
Her eyes shot open.
As if the worldly set pieces had been presentatively changed during the intermission in which she'd chosen to shut her senses, suddenly there were no open blue skies and there was no ocean. The great body of water had been minimized into a tiny circular pool. The horizon was gone: what surrounded her instead were opulently designed pillars and walls of red and green. Up above, the golden dragon head of the Hall of Warriors replaced the blazing sun.
Tigress stopped her paddling timidly, coming to terms with her surroundings. In an instant, her feet touched the immediate bottom of the water source.
She extended her legs completely, wading out of the ankle-deep Moon Pool and stepping onto the polished floors of the Jade Palace. As she walked onwards, an unusual resistance in the air dampened her simplest movements. Light beams coming into the open structure wavered, bent into many different erratic forms as they tried to diffuse through this invisible thickness.
She'd notice that the atmosphere—though completely breathable and transparent—bore the same weight as water; it's like she never truly climbed out of the aquasphere, but only entered up into a stratum of more lightweight properties. Understanding this, she transitioned from a walk and into a steady glide, bounding towards Shifu.
The tiger's master hadn't quite taken the sacrilegious act of her swimming in the sacred moon pool into proper account. By now he should be flipping her upside down—but there, standing in the middle of the hall, he stayed quiet. A monotonous frown marked his typical impassivity.
Both experiencing and negating some laws of the underwater realm, Shifu, as diminutive and weightless as he was, remained on the ground like an anchor; it was his fur that hadn't held out against the effects of the buoyancy, floating towards every direction. A stream of bubbles came out of his nostrils while he breathed thoughtlessly.
It was only when she floated by him that she finally noticed they were both standing at the same eyeline. She looked at her legs, which had become incredibly stocky and close to the ground. Her hands were spread before her, appearing to be just as proportionately reduced in size. She wiggled her stub-like fingers.
"Tigress." His voice was muffled by the irregularities of their atmosphere. "Focus. You're still in study session."
Once again, she observed her master. He was now outstretching a scroll towards her—likely for her to read. But the container of the scroll was fashioned in no regular manner. The caps on both its ends were made of jade. The casing itself was a lustrous red upon which gold etchings of a dragon were inlaid. At that moment, she knew he was trying to fool her.
"Master, I can't. Oogway has not deemed me worthy to read the Dragon Scroll." The sound of her voice was high-pitched, evidently child-like. She had to fight her lips to enunciate a few difficult syllables.
"The Dragon Scroll?" He quickly pulled his hand back, his face souring. "How did you come across such a name?"
"You, master..." Tigress, ever so perplexed, looked back towards the dragon figurehead above.
The scroll must have teleported: suddenly it was between the statue's great jaws, resting in its rightful place. When she turned, her master was holding some brown-tinted parchment.
She insisted again. "It was you who told me."
"I've never mentioned such a thing!" Bubbles erupted out of his mouth.
"I swear master!" She took a step back, frightened. "You did! Please believe me, Master."
Shifu approached. His relative motion had stirred a repulsive force between them like two magnets trying to come together at similar poles; Tigress was stumbling backwards without the intention to do so. "Do not lie! Who told you about the Dragon Scroll! Was it Oogway?"
"No master!" Slipping on the lacquered jade floors, she slowly descended on her back.
"Who was it then? It was Zeng, wasn't it?"
"No master it wasn't. Please-"
"Then who?" Shifu pushed a foot against her chest, coming overhead.
He was much bigger than Tigress had ever imagined. The full range of his gritted teeth showed, almost mongrelized. Glints of fire were in his eyes.
No words, no matter how truthful or false, would ever get her out of this current altercation, but she could choose the ones that could reduce immediate and collateral consequences. An inevitable lie reached the tip of her tongue. "Me master." She relented with a sigh. "I learned about it myself. I was curious."
"Well then! You have the boldness to stray from the course I've given you? I know what's best for you! I know what you should learn! But if you believe your curiosity is so relevant, let us assuage it." He parted from the tiger. "What do you know about the scroll?"
Turning on her belly, she propped herself weakly on her elbows. "I know enough, master. Only after a few thousand years or so does someone worthy get chosen for the role of the Dragon Warrior. The powers given are unlimited, because they are bestowed by the universe. The title… it's what all mentors want for their students. It is the ultimate goal."
"And do you think I want it for you?"
"Of course master. I know my purpose now. Everything that I do is crystal clear. I think you are training me for the scroll, master. And I will do everything to make myself worthy of it."
After a brief moment of silence, Shifu turned promptly, dismissing her great promise all together. "Come with me."
A beam of light from the Training Hall's entrance shot towards Shifu as he suddenly proceeded outside without his student.
Once again, Tigress did not have to move, for the world transitioned for her. The python of brightness continued to shift towards the back of the hall, devouring the tiger's resting form and migrating past. Her moment inside the blinding white tunnel was fleeting. At the end of the nearing open terminal, a new but familiar setting presented itself beyond: the Jade Palace's gardens.
A through-draught of naturally occuring winds entered the bright wormhole, pushing back all the water that was in it with overpowering force. Just as the portal-end left the tiger completely, the winds greeted her at full blast.
Her damp fur and clothes feeling heavy on her joints, the tiger felt the sea buoy her weight no longer. The uninsulated air was starkly colder. Upon making her first movements, she jerked violently, unused to this sudden loss of resistance.
Tigress eventually stood, taking in the far-off sights of the Jade Palace grounds. Just ahead was the stairs leading down the long tribute of kung fu master statues. The steps seemed to go on much longer than normal, stretching down into faraway rolls of fog by the steep foothills. As she panned the rest of the area, the backwalls of an encroaching fog only allowed her to perceive just one other locality of the garden: to her side, some short-lived cobblestone trail led to a clearing with Shifu. The elder master was sitting cross-legged on a table that was stationed underneath a cherry blossom sapling.
Walking down on this path, the young tiger could sense an escalating entrapment discreetly enclosing her. Ramparts of clouds erected from all over —by the time she had made it to Shifu, these obfuscating walls had already collapsed inwards and encapsulated them in an opaque dome.
Shifu was playing with something small on his fingers, too preoccupied by it to look up to Tigress. "I have a task for you. A simple one that does not need kung fu."
She positioned herself soldier-like, ready to endure whatever test laid ahead. "What is it, master?"
"In your spare time, you will learn how to embroider. This will take more precision and more patience." Extending his digits, he handed to her a needle that had slid from his palm and between his fingertips. "You will replicate one of the Jade Palace murals and turn it into tapestry. You may choose whatever illustration you want, but choose wisely. However long this may take, it does not matter, so long as you've perfected it."
The tiger nodded sternly. "Yes master."
She was about to pick the needle when he abruptly took his hand away. The second she glanced back up, Shifu had begun morphing into his more advanced years. The red fur that accentuated his features turned more dull, his long tapered mustache becoming a deadened white. His blue eyes turned into gray cataracts. The rotundness that made up his prominent cheeks and belly sapped away, his skin shriveling to the point that it started hugging previously covert angles of his now bare skeleton.
"I see that you have already finished."
"What?"
Upon the bang of a gong, a mallet of pain struck down on her hands, heat immediately rushing to the extremities. Suddenly lain upon her palms was a blanket of what appeared to be the tapestry he'd asked for.
Shifu swept away the summoned cloth from her grasp, spreading it on the table. What he had revealed underneath it was a terrible condition that explained her current pain. A pasture of more than a thousand needles embedded themselves on her paw pads. Dotted wounds where the metal pokers had been sown into the flesh became wellsprings of blood; red was all over her, searing hot. She could taste the metal that reeked out of her skin. Each needle pricking produced pops of immense hurt.
Shifu spoke again. "Splendid work Tigress. It is beautiful and perfect, just as I had asked for."
"It is?" Her paws started to crack and crumble like concrete. As the break-down process led on to completely disintegrating the hardened meat of her hands, a consistent stroke of wind raked away the falling ash, beginning from her fingertips and eventually stopping at her wrist. At the end of this degeneration, she was left with crippling arm-stumps—but now the regionalized pain had also been taken from her. She could now promptly pay attention to what her master just announced, glancing up.
Displayed broadly on the table was indeed a beautiful piece of art. It replicated the mural of one of Oogway's last battles, fought in Gongmen City during its early days—they'd called the legendary conquest the Pánshān War, of which hundreds of mythological namesakes made epic stories. The tapestry was just one of many impressions, but it was certainly among one of the best.
Inspecting closely, she could see the individual decussates made by her finely-sewn threading—it took thousands of this same pattern to block in one soldier alone, and the tapestry at large had hundreds of these depictions across the illustrated valley. Carts, weapons, bodies, spears… they all piled on top of one another in an ever-increasing complexity.
The tiger felt like saying something far beyond her cognition. "I worked on this for many years."
The red panda hummed in satisfaction. "Indeed. And you have truly perfected it."
"I did." She added sternly.
"Now," his voice deepened, "burn it."
"What?" The tiger immediately stopped fixating on her own work. Shifu shoved a torch to her chest, and she was forced to hold it before it dropped—it seemed that her hands had conveniently returned as well.
"Burn it."
"But master!" She looked at her piece again. It remained so untouchably beautiful. "No, no! I can't!"
"You will."
"This is ridiculous, master!" Tigress slowly brought down the flames to the tapestry, hovering it just inches above. Try as she might to resist Shifu, the tiger ultimately followed his order by action. Her striped arm that wielded the fateful torch trembled under immense and indecisive pressure—under the illusion of choice. In any circumstance, he must always be heard.
"Why Master Shifu?'' Tigress croaked. "I've worked so har-"
"It does not care!" His voice had multiplied, assuming many different people, both feminine and masculine. The loudness of these diverging pitches was nearly deafening.
"Who is he, master? Who does not care?"
From above, the winds drove faster down in helical paths. She did not even bring the blazing torch to come in contact with the cloth; sparks from the fire were swept by the currents whizzing by, and those flecks of amber shot down onto the tapestry, immediately bursting into flames. Heat splurged on the feedings of dry threads. Valleys, skies, the distant city, and the sea of soldiers—they were all made into ash.
Tigress looked at the spectacle, utterly defeated, equally horrified. The flames were quick to reach its pinnacle and fall out of action, now only existing within a pile of half-glowing soot on the table. The remaining heat cracked peacefully.
Shifu's voice was uniform again. "Learn this lesson well, Tigress—remember it in everything you do. The path to greatness will always lead to disappointment."
A/N
Hey guys! I just want to notify that I've revised chapters 5, 6, and 7. The reason why I'm working backwards is because I need a lot of time to find a plug so that I can snort drugs while trying to revise the earlier chapters. While 6 and 7 had multiple minor touch-ups, I rewrote chapter 5 almost entirely.
I promise the zootopia feral thing will not have any significant role in this story. Having it there is just a means to an end—I don't intend to really explore it.
I hope I did good with the dream sequences—it's mostly based on how I perceive stuff in my own dreams. While I am my own character, I have very little active thoughts and i don't get to really make my own dialogue. I know it's different for everybody.
Overall, I feel like this was just kind of a tonally weird chapter. Let's pretend that that was what I was aiming for (:
Much thanks to The Dragon Chronicle for beta reading my story. And of course, massive massive thank you to Tydrags for the freaking amazing cover art. Also, an additional hat tip to Valley of Peace Defenders and MijumaruFan from Ao3 for a couple of name suggestions, specifically 'Qìé Chéng' and the 'Pánshān War'. Really cool stuff B)
