Calamity Hoppers ~Reprise~
by Christopher R. Martin
Chapter 9 - Not alone...anymore
I push my way past branch after branch, bush after bush, skirting through the trees that take up most of my line of sight. My trusted sword finds its mark and cuts down particularly large patches of verdure. My other hand maintains a constantly burning sphere of Woo Foo energy in case magic is necessary.
I've been wandering around the whole afternoon in hopes of finding someplace where I can rest. This forest might be a little too large for me to navigate through, but I don't mind. I have no regrets about coming here. It's quiet here. So tranquil. So serene. A decent distance away from civilization, too. Wildlife teems in this place, making their noises and coming together as one. Disjointed yet harmonious, lively all the same. There appears to be neither rhyme nor reason for this, not that they're needed. It's just there. Hence the name the townspeople gave these woods, the Vivace Forest.
And since this place is so peaceful, I might consider calling it a day here. If I can find a good spot, that is.
My feet push forward, refusing to stop even for a second. I keep my eyes trained on the path and stay vigilant. So close, yet so far away.
Then I hear it. Water trickling down from afar, crashing gently. My ears ramrod, flickering in impulsive excitement as they register the sound. It's coming east of where I'm standing.
Curiously and cautiously, I follow the sound to its source. On this path, the trees decrease in number as I take one step after another. At the tail end of the trail is a bank of mist that stands out from the rest of the forest. It's probably obscuring something, otherwise it has no reason to be here. Temperature here has taken quite a spike, and I notice a layer of perspiration rising on my paws and nose.
Peering close into the mist, I unsheathe my sword and make one swift slash. The cloud dissipates, and I behold the rocky circular formation and the waterfall above that have made their presence known to me – a hot spring.
Well, would you look at that?
I'm at a loss for words. "Whoa" is just about the best I can say to describe this sight. It's beautiful. No, that doesn't do it justice. It's amazing. Nah, that's not enough, either. I wonder, are there any more places like this around here?
Letting that question pass, I remember that all those minutes, all those hours of walking have taken a lot out of me. I think that's also why my nose and paws are sweating like crazy. Why I'm panting like crazy. Feeling captivated, I approach the hot spring and dip a finger into the water. Oh, wow! How warm. How pure. I can sense my mind going blank from the touch. My shoulders relaxing, the load upon them falling seamlessly to the ground.
Without any hesitation at all, I cast my old reliable sword aside at the nearest tree. Then I proceed to strip myself of my clothes, starting with my coat and finishing with the loose gi pants around my legs. Exposing my toned body and the cuts and scars that adorn it; the steam even feels nice on them. I hang the coat on a branch on the same my sword's next to, but keep the pants with me for a little.
"Hmm… I guess Heather was right. Maybe jeans aren't such a bad idea, after all," I comment while staring at my gi pants before entering the spring.
The warmth of the water is exactly what I need after the week that's just passed. As my body sinks deeper, I let my muscles ease up and loosen. I can feel the corners of my mind clearing up, the stress and worry of the everyday literally washing off of me. The chaff ups and rises with the steam, vanishing into nothing in a short amount of time.
Now fully relaxed, I search the depths of my head for a thought to focus on to pass the time. Since I mentioned her, I might as well just think about her a little…
Heather, the bartender at Wild Ones' and my newest friend and co-worker, told me that I'd need to get a few things straightened out if I'm to stay here. She suggested that I get me a new set of clothes as a start once my payment from working at the bar comes. I should remember to thank her for that.
Actually, if it weren't for her, I would have no idea where to go or what to do. I'd still be wandering aimlessly, without a good head-start. Setbacks like money would have been a bigger problem in the long run. That, and her trust in me makes me feel less like the outsider that I really am. So I have a lot more to thank her for.
I wonder if I'll find others like her. Someone who doesn't turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to those in need. Someone who I can put my trust into, who I can lean on to when everything has gone to hell. Maybe I will, or maybe I won't.
For a while, time just drifts by me unnoticed. I don't think about it too much—or at all—and concentrate on the vibrant and soothing sounds that the forest has to offer. Nothing much matters right now, anyway.
But I can't stay idle any longer…
A rustle from the bushes nearby jars me awake, cutting my relaxation time a little short. Forcing me to scramble out of the water and leap for my belongings.
Son of a bitch, what is it now?
Droplets of water from every inch of my body, and as the canine that I am, I shake every bit of it off. Once that's done, I hastily dress myself up, starting with my pants and then my coat, and ready both my sword and my magic.
I was warned by Heather that the fauna here gets active at night, and some of them have a tendency to attack any unfortunate wanderers. But it's not dark yet. Hell, it's not even close to sundown yet. Not in the slightest.
Nothing happens at all. Nothing is attacking me; I'm being followed.
Realizing this, I ease my guard up a little and continue on my way.
But this presence still follows me; I can feel it. At this rate, my patience is going to run out. What am I to do? Should I call it out? And if I do, do I kill it or chew it off for following me around? Or would this all just be a waste of my time?
My decision made, I shoot a look over my shoulder. "Are you just gonna stand there and stare or what?"
I wait for this entity to respond. And, nothing…
With a sliver of patience remaining, I attempt at it again. "You're making this harder than it has to be." My voice disrupts the very flow of the forest and puts it to silence. Before I continue, I let a sigh fall from my mouth. My tone lightens up. "You're after me for a reason, right? If that's the case, then I suggest you get it over with like a man instead of playing ninja in the shadows. Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you. That's why we have dark back alleys. You don't have to be scared."
A pair of long ears protrude out of a large rock in the distance. They must have heard me because they start moving. A blue-furred rabbit emerges from behind the boulder, with a backpack slung across its shoulder. He approaches me on ginger steps, his intentions yet to be determined.
He stops in front of me, and I catch a glint in his eye. A glow that should be familiar to me, but I can't really wrap my finger around.
"Who said I was scared?" says the rabbit boy. What a runty little voice he's got. Puberty's a bitch, ain't it, kid?
How long has he been tailing me? By the way he's holding his bag and how the weight is starting to get to him, I'd say for a long time. Why would he be wasting his time and energy watching my every step? Watching my every move?
"Y'know, stalking is one of the worst habits you can pick up, kid. And it's a hard one to break," I tell him, breaking a short silence. "Didn't your mom and dad ever teach you that?"
The boy shrugs at my question. I take in his whole appearance. His blue fur, his long ears, his shirt and pants, the backpack hanging on his shoulders and his violet eyes. I know those eyes from somewhere, which is weird because this is the first time I've met this child. Where have I seen them before?
Stay focused.
No, I can't have anyone else involved, especially not a child. This is my mission, my crusade, mine alone.
"Turn around and walk away, kid," I advise, turning my back on him. "I don't have time to play whatever game you're playing." I begin walking…
"Hold on!"
…only to be stopped cold on my track. I roll my eyes and grumble. I am so not in the mood for this.
"I've been looking all over for you for the last three days now," the child starts. "There's something about you that's been bothering me, and I just had to see this through."
"Is that so?" I say, pretending to sound interested. "Well, you found me. Now what? What would this 'something' be?" If I do this right, I can get him off of my back.
Judging by the look on his face, he has a lot that he needs to get out of his chest. He needs to bring it out in the open very badly. I'm not completely indifferent, though, so I bring out that well-mannered side of me and just listen to him.
"I've got a gut feeling that you might have something that I'm looking for," the boy states and steps forward three times. His eyes glint as he takes those three steps. A flash of confidence and courage. A glimmer saying that I'm going to have to try my best to drive him away. "That's why I've been following you."
Hearing his testimony, I chuckle at it and him. "Then you might not want to trust that instinct of yours too much, because there's nothing to find here with me except trouble," I say, flashing an entertained chuckle. "Now if you'll excuse me, there are actually important things out there that I need to get to."
The leaves, twigs and dirt under my feet crack as I head off at last, hoping I won't have to hear any more from the blue bunny.
So far, so good. I know for a fact that he's still standing behind me, but not a peep can be heard out of him.
Then I hear the rushing sound, like a bullet fired from a gun. A miniature burst of fire is set off on the hill I'm just about to cross, followed by another one, preventing me from moving any further. Blue flames that burn brightly, brilliantly, having left an ember on my right shoulder in its wake. How did that…
Phased more by the occurrence and less by the fire that's on me, I put it out and turn around one hundred and eighty degrees. The rabbit child is holding a bamboo sword in both of his paws, its body dowsed in the same blue fire. I also notice that the shirt and pants he wore have been changed for an entirely different attire. A martial arts gi, punctuated by an orange belt on its waist holding it together.
A Grade Two Woo Foo Knight. This changes everything.
"Do I have your attention now?" he asks. He demands.
He certainly does.
With no other choice presented to me, I lend my ears to him and listen to the story he has to say…
…much to my chagrin.
Does this boy seem crazy to me? Yeah, he does. A little bit. Is it all believable? I don't know, that ball of flame he just flung at me kinda threw me for a loop for just a brief moment.
Am I going to help him?
Yes.
"Come, take a walk with me," I say to the rabbit calmly, gesturing at him to come close to me. Placing my hand around his back, as if he were my own child.
There's nothing to find here except trouble, I've been told.
Turn around and walk away, kid, I've been warned.
And yet I ignored these warnings, like the stubborn, battle-hungry, snot-nosed punk that I am. Sometimes, it's exactly who I am that lands me into situations like this. And this is one of the few instances where I'm beginning to regret. Where I'm having second thoughts.
What in the name of Foo was I thinking?
What the hell did I get myself into?
The hilt of my bamboo sword rubs itself harshly against my palm. I feel a blister—the second one in ten minutes, now—swell up under my fur. Each swing I take with my weapon agitates the burning sensation in my skin. My arms feel like they're about to give out at any second. Fall off limply down to the grass. And I'm secretly hoping that they do, so that this day can finally be over and done with.
Weapons are supposed to be extensions to a martial artist's senses, but this is just ridiculous. This sword might just as well be a part of my body as my arms and legs are.
I breathe heavily, regaining my composure. My free hand on my thumping chest. It's not over yet. Far from it. It's only just begun, my personal hell-on-earth. From the look of it all, this is nothing compared to what's coming next. A window for what I'll be facing soon.
I swore to myself to brave whatever hurdle is thrown at me in this journey of mine, and I have to. I can't afford to go back on my word. Now that I've reached this pivotal moment. Sometimes, though, I wish things were easier, even by just a little.
My newest Woo Foo teacher, Lupin, stands at a distance with peering, scrutinizing eyes. His tail wagging behind him at a leisurely speed, arms folded.
I'm the cadet, and he's the drill sergeant. His job is to whip me into shape, and mine is to roll with the punches. If it means making my insides bleed, my muscles sore and my bones snap or grind into powder, he will do it.
"Yang!" Lupin shouts out to me.
"Yes, sir?" I answer, standing attentively.
His upper lip curving into a sneer, Lupin snaps his fingers, commanding a big group of targets—person-shaped ones rather than the bullseye kind—to spring from the grass of the meadow. The detail on these things is just spot-on, with a set of limbs, a torso, a head and markers to designate these separate parts.
So far, my drill for the day consists of hacking away at an army of these training dummies with my sword. Slash at them and split them in half. All in the least amount of time possible. And it looks like that this drill is going to continue.
"Time to enhance your training. Ten seconds," yells Lupin, cupping his hands around his mouth. "That's the time you've got to clear this whole place out. Think you're up to it, you smartass whippersnapper?"
I can't believe what I'm hearing. Ten seconds? Are you for real? At this rate, my body's going to become pudding. This has to be punishment. I swear, he's trying to get back at me for the wisecracks I made at him.
And what exactly does he mean by 'whippersnapper'? It's not like he's older than me by ten years or anything.
Again, he calls out to me to make certain I hear him. "Well? I'm waiting."
"Alright, fine! I'll do it," I shout back at him, kicking the ground once. "Damned dog!"
With nothing more to say, I crouch into a starting position, imagining myself in a race. I sprint at the training dummies as fast as I can, maintaining a firm grip on the hilt of my sword. Slashing at each one of them, cutting them down, at a breakneck pace. A surreal pace. I've gone through this same exercise that preserving my form has become instinctive. My posture, my center of gravity and my accuracy adjust by themselves.
The thought of my arm potentially falling off becomes almost non-existent. I'm just hacking away at masses of straw and wood. Ounce after ounce of energy, one emotion after another, put into every stroke, every swing, of my sword.
The seconds wear on as I lunge from target to target and cut them down by the middle. I can't tell exactly how much time has passed. I come to a stop after the final training dummy collapses, staying idle in my crouching position. My sword arm stretches across my body, across and against my chest. Eyes closed, taking in careful breaths and letting them out heavily. It's the only noise that can be heard within twenty feet of me.
Lupin approaches me, keeping that strict look on his face trained on me. On my posture. Silently evaluating me, scrutinizing me. I can feel his gaze pouring over me, his eyes burrowing under my skin, my fur, my flesh – to tell me that I have much to learn. He's like a satellite or a surveillance camera, circling me slowly, angling himself to get as good a view on me as possible.
He's imposing his will, his authority, on me. The way he stops in front of me and stands, with both hands holding his hips, is evidence enough. That penetrating stare of his really brings the point across.
"Hm," he mutters, hesitating on his actual words. Knowing that he's toying with me by doing so. "A little better, I suppose."
Provoked, I leap up to my feet and exchange looks with him. "What do you mean 'a little better'?" I reply. "You said 'ten seconds', didn't you? Take every target down within that time? That's exactly what I did! I'd know because I kept count! I don't think that's just 'a little better'."
"Alright, fine. You've got a point. And I guess you're right…um, somewhat," he says.
Is he kidding? 'Somewhat' right? Alright, it's official: this 'training' has become nothing more but child abuse! Call it bitching if you want, but this isn't fair!
"What?" I say, baffled.
"I mean, uh…hm, let's see. How do I put this? Well, you've got your technique down, that's for sure. But I need to see a little more, um—how do you say it—'meaning' in you. I want to really feel every punch, every kick and every spell that you throw, even if I'm not on the receiving end of them."
"Oh, hippity hop me hard. M-meaning? Are you kidding me? Are we really going to talk about this again?" I let out a furious groan, palming my face in frustration. With whatever energy I have left, I use it to blurt out again – a decision that I'll be regretting. "I—ugh! This is such bullshit."
In an instant, I feel my stomach being violently rocked. A harsh, sudden impact that pulls the wind out of my lungs. And maybe some spit, too. One of Lupin's fists has lodged itself into my gut, imprinting its mark, his message, into me. I gather enough strength to determine that it does belong to him. My only reaction to this is to cough and grunt, to make the pain a little milder.
He retracts his arm, and I collapse to my knees, clenching my stomach with one arm, still groaning. Still coughing for air, to undull my vision and my head.
I probably needed that. Discipline, that is.
"I'm getting sick of this," he says coldly, looking down on me with his harsh eyes and folded arms. "How many times must I remind you? That's no way to speak to your seniors, especially one who's doing his damnedest to teach you. So for the last time, unless you want me to yank your ears out and hand them over to you, then you had better watch what comes out of that mouth of yours when I'm near you."
I breathe in and out, and take in his every word.
Cut off my ears? That's a bit too barbaric for my taste.
My master's face suddenly turns uneasy. He lets out a sigh to calm himself. Turning his back towards me, he walks off. Up a small grassy hill in this meadow. Not even bothering to pick up the pieces of wood scattered along the ground.
From the middle of the incline, I hear him amidst his footsteps and the rustling of the grass. "Follow me, Yang. I'd like to show you something."
At that, the last of my pain dies off. I jump to my feet and tail him from behind, slowing down once at exactly his tail's length away from him. Compelled by his sober words; this 'something' that he's going to show me must be important. At least to him. That's the only way I can put it. What I do know, on the other hand, is that another lecture from him awaits me. Very, VERY soon.
We go up the hill. The same trail that has brought us into the meadow, to these plains, out and back again. It's a long and boring walk, but with this scenery, punctuated by the abundance of grass and flowers, the open sky and warm sun, it's not all bad. It's actually uplifting. Blade after blade of grass, petal and stigma alike, all brushing against me, with the softness, the delicateness, of cotton.
Lupin and I walk and walk until we reach the top of the hill. At the end of our trek is an enormous cave. It was once the base of operations for Eradicus and his pack of cronies before his banishment. No one's set foot in it until now.
I still don't understand why Lupin chose this place, of all the other choices he had. Ever since he came here, he's made plenty of renovations. Refurbishments. With the aid of his nigh-unparalleled skill in Woo Foo, no doubt. His peerless aptitude in magic.
What used to be a stronghold for one of Woo Foo's most fearsome enemies has now been turned into a comfortable living space. Furniture laid out to resemble a normal house, rooms to evenly break up the cave, including one for myself. We still have a ways to go to really make this place stand out, but in its present state, it's more than enough.
Homey or not, it still feels barren to me at times, though.
My master has already gone ahead of me. Far ahead. He stops once he arrives at the living room and stares at a wall in front of him. From where he stands, Lupin's right ear starts twitching; he senses me from that far. His voice echoing in the cave, he says to me, "Come on, Yang. We haven't got all day."
I walk through the passage cautiously, wondering exactly what he might say to me. Within earshot of him, I say, "I'm here. What is it?"
"Take a look," says Lupin, pointing me to the wall his eyes are on. "This is what I want to show you."
It's not so much the wall he's looking at, but what's on it – a pair of swords mounted on wooden racks.
These two swords… I know them. Like they've come out of a history or textbook, because they have. They wouldn't be out of place in a museum. I've only seen them in images and scribblings preserved in the scrolls, books and other records kept safe in the dojo. One of them is enormous, probably as long as I am tall. The first thing I think of when I look at it is a claymore. The other sword is smaller and resembles a blade forged by the Japanese. It has a peculiar-looking hilt, shaped like a flute.
Of course. How could I not figure this out until now? These are the swords of the Original Knights. The Blade of the Mediator and the Blade of the Governor.
His eyes stay glued to the wall. To the ancient blades that hang from it. I gaze at them too. A sacred air emanates from these weapons, taking my breath away as I look upon them.
Reading about these swords in the scrolls and books, and looking at their pictures over and over again don't compare to this. To the rapture of this moment.
"Tell me, what do you see, Yang?" asks Lupin, his arms folded.
"This is…" I hesitate, in awe of these two treasures. Disarmed by their presence. "I can't believe it. These are the Blades of the Mediator and the Governor. This is the real deal, right?" My hesitation just about sums up how I feel. "Where did you find these? And how did you even get your hands on them?"
"That's not important." Lupin shakes his head. "I want to show these swords to you to make a point."
He takes a seat on a chair next to him and commands me to sit on the one opposite to him. Oh, great. Is this going to be a long-winded speech? A drawn-out, yet somewhat interesting life story?
"Would you care to give your master the favor of sharing a story?" he asks.
Aha! I knew it. I called it, right there. I nod and listen on, anyway. An air of wistfulness flitters around my master as he speaks.
"I have been practicing Woo Foo for as long as I've lived. Since the day I started, I admired everything about the art. I wore my title of Woo Foo Knight proudly. Like a badge. And because I loved the art so much, I made a vow to myself to carry it on throughout the generations. To preserve it. To protect it with every fiber of my being. But I knew then and there that a crusade like this required strength. Strength, fortitude and foresight. I told myself, over and over, not to lose sight of why I did what I did. Those two swords are one of many aspects of the art I want to protect, and they also serve as a reminder. But…" He sighs, hunching over slightly. He closes his eyes and briefly covers his face with his hands.
"But what?" I ask, inevitably engrossed in his tale.
"To put it bluntly, life doesn't always turn out the way you'd hope. Let's just say I'm not the sort of person you'd want as a role model." The smile on his face wavers, just ready to fade at any second. It already has. That was quick.
He can't possibly mean what I think he means, right? I mean his skill as a Woo Foo Knight is sure to earn him the respect of others. That's enough of a reason why others would look up to him. Granted, I don't quite see him that way since I don't know him that well yet, but anyone with half a brain would find one thing or another about him to admire.
I can't really figure it out, so I simply shake my head, shrug and say, "I'm sorry, but I don't see where this is all going."
"What I'm trying to say is," says Lupin, tilting his head upwards. "Power with conviction is very different from power without." He moves closer to me and brings my right hand into both of his. Like he's making a marriage proposal. I almost shudder, but remember that this isn't what's on his mind. "Swear it to me, Yang, that you won't ever lose sight of your conviction. If you're going to fight, you need to hold on to what you're fighting for and never let go of it. It's perfectly fine to want to become stronger. I wanted the exact same thing at your age. But along the way, you might forget the reason why you're doing what you're doing in the first place. Far too often, there have been others like us who've fallen victim to this. And in their search for higher power, they lost themselves. Their sanity. If you seek power solely for the sake of it, you'll crave for even more of it, and you will go mad. So Yang, please promise me that you'll remember this. You will remember this, right?" There's something about the way he says this that unnerves me. As if these words, these sentences, are spoken by a desperate, ordinary person and not by my Woo Foo teacher. I notice that his grip on my hand has gotten tighter, too.
"O-okay. I will—" My stammering doesn't help at all.
"No, no, no! That's not good enough!" shouts Lupin, cutting me off. His grip starting to hurt. "I want you to mean it. I want to see that you really understand where I'm coming from."
"Okay. I promise, Lupin. I'm not going to lose sight." I nod my head at him, taking in his wisdom.
I allow a moment to further ponder on his words. On the vow he forced me to make.
There's so much more to me wanting to be stronger than anyone might know. Everywhere I go, everywhere I turn, I've always been known as headstrong. Brave. Confident to a fault. Often times I believe it all to be true and actually fit the mold that the people have made for me.
But just as often, they're more of a shield than anything. At times, I hide behind this mask. Put up a pretense of strength, a false sense of worth, when really, it's hard to stay strong. Especially when my own master and sister bring out every possible fault they see in me, no matter how big or small they may be. No one has ever seen past this charade. This mask. No one sees my inadequacies, and they never will.
If I can obtain that power I want—no, that power I need—then I can protect everything, everyone, I care about. If I can attain that goal, then no one will have to bog me down with their expectations of me. No longer will I have to feel so worthless. I can actually have something to be proud of about myself.
After finishing my daydreaming, I turn my attention to Lupin, who is on his knees and groping his neck with one hand and his chest with another. He hunches over, groaning in pain and struggling for air. Seconds later, he arches his back and releases a feral scream towards the ceiling, expelling the pressure out of his body. An aura of black envelops him as he yells out.
"Lupin!" I shout, catching him just as he's about to fall forward.
His screaming stops and is replaced by slow, controlled breaths. I think about letting him go so that he can stand on his own two feet, but decide at the last second not to. I need him.
"A-are you okay?" My speech is shaky from what I had just seen, but I regain control of it.
"Yeah. Yeah, I am," responds Lupin, his manner of speaking…different from what it was a few minutes ago.
"You sure about that?"
"I said I'm fine, goddamnit!" he shouts, startling me. This person doesn't feel like my master at all right now. "It's just heartburn, nothing a glass of water can't fix." He adds to save face. The way I see it, he's still here. In appearance, anyway. Back on his feet, he continues. "Actually, Yang, I've got something else I want to tell you."
"Okay? What is it?"
Moving away from the furniture, Lupin sets his eyes back on the two swords. He takes quite a long pause and then asks, "Do you by any chance know about the Woo Foo Grimoire?"
"The Woo Foo Grimoire… Nope. Never heard of it." I shake my head.
"It's an artefact that dates back to more than a century ago. Despite its name, it is not a book. It acts as a beacon and accumulates traces of Fog within its vicinity."
"Fog?" I let the word hover about.
Fog. A substance known only amongst Woo Foo Knights. It is the life force, the very essence, of the Infernal Beast. The unseeable remnants scattered across the world following its demise during that legendary war thousands of years ago. According to tales of the olden days, Fog is every ill emotion and trait made manifest. Anger. Hatred. Lust. Jealousy.
Those tales have also said any who harnessed it would have their strength multiplied. Only the strong-willed, or completely insane, would dare take this power for themselves. But in all honesty, why would anyone tap into something so dangerous in the first place? These people may have had their reasons, but was it really worth it in the end?
Although, it does sound appealing. Having your strength, your prowess, grown by a hundredfold. In the stories that I've heard of, none of them tell of one Woo Foo warrior successfully taking the Fog's power for his or her own. These stories always ended the same: with these knights' demise. Some of them dignified, others less so.
But better men have tried, and better men have failed. Maybe they didn't have a strong enough conviction, or if they did, their grip on it wasn't firm. Perhaps now will be different from before. I'm willing to go the distance. To protect everything and everyone dear, to prove I'm worth more than what people think, if I must, then I will.
My master elaborates more on the subject. "The Grimoire does not always have to take form of a book. It can be whatever its wielder wishes it to be. As of now, it has noform. It's just a mass of energy in need of a master."
"How do you know all this?"
He puts his right paw inside of his coat, searching its pocket, arousing my suspicion. "I've had these toys with me for a long time for safe keeping." In his possession is a small glowing sphere that emanates a strong, unearthly aura. "Including this one."
"This is…" I say in awe, approaching the object. Reaching out a paw to caress its surface. If he's showing it to me now, could that mean he…
"I can see it in your eyes, Yang," Lupin continues, his words befuddling. "I've always wondered if you have what it takes to shoulder this burden. Looks like you do. Don't be fooled, though. This is anything but an 'easy way out'. Your training is far from over." I figured as much. "Do not make the mistake that this power is yours; it's only a lease. Nothing can ever replace your own capacity as a Woo Foo Knight." His words, the way he utters them, causes my spine to tingle, scuttle, frenetically. Shivers roll from there to my fur, to my skin. It tells me to really take heed. "But I digress. This is your decision. Are you ready to get a glimpse of higher power? Can you tame this Grimoire?"
When he says the word 'tame', I begin to think that a struggle of some sort is involved here. Tame. Control. They're essentially one and the same. Now that I think about it, that must be what he means. This Woo Foo Grimoire must be so amazing, so far beyond comprehension. Beyond the world's reasoning, beyond its logic. Its present form—a mass of energy with a spiral at its center—and my master's chilling words just point to it.
I think I'm strong enough for this. No, that doesn't sound quite right. I know I'm strong enough. I can do this. I've endured many hurdles as a Woo Foo Knight. Harnessing forbidden power won't be too far from the norm of what I've faced. Convincing myself of this, I nod at his question and bow in reverence to him.
"I'm ready. Bring it on," I say, closing my paw into a fist. Doubt remains in my words, in my posture, but it is dwarfed by my confidence.
"Very well," responds Lupin, in an almost regretful manner. "Before we begin, I must warn you, Yang. When you first come into contact with this Grimoire, it will test you."
"Test?" I've always had a dislike for the word. I don't know what direction he's about to go, but already I don't like it. Not one bit. "What's going to happen?"
"A precautionary measure. The Grimoire will read you—your heart, your mind, your body, your spirit. It will evaluate your worth. It will seek the truth in your intentions and judge your capability."
His statements make me feel slightly uncomfortable. Specifically, about the Grimoire digging deep into me and seeing me. There are things I'd much rather keep to myself, and I don't need to be violated, debased, by having them revealed.
"How's it going to do that?" I say, a little unnerved.
"Your body will take in quantities of the energy stored in the Grimoire in order for it to adapt," answers Lupin. "It will be excruciating. You either pass with flying colors or you fail tragically. Succeed, and the Grimoire is under your thrall in the form you wish it to take." Ten seconds of silence fleet by after that last sentence. A short amount of time, but it's torturous to me.
"And if I don't succeed?"
Five more seconds. Damn it, I wish he wouldn't do this. "Then you will die," he says gravely, somberly. In a low tone, hunched over a little. Enunciating his every word.
Well, that's just great. Just what I need: a life and death situation. Only one week after finding myself a new Woo Foo teacher, and now it's do or die. How refreshing.
Oh, wait. No, it isn't.
"There's no shame in turning away, Yang," says Lupin in an attempt to comfort me. Noticing how badly I'm affected by this realization.
Multiple emotions encroach upon my mind, upon my heart. Doubt. Fear. Hopelessness. They all wish to consume me. To paralyze me from within. To keep me from what I'm searching for.
A minute later, I purge these feelings and make up my mind. "I'm not backing down! I'm ready!"
"Alright." The lustrous sphere still in his paw, Lupin approaches me. "Give me your arm." He brings forth his free paw. I oblige, entrusting my right arm into his grasp.
As he moves his paw to my wrist and fastens his grip, I think of an operating room in a hospital. This procedure is no different from an operation; I am the weary patient in need of the treatment, and Lupin is the doctor in charge, lulling me to sleep with the anesthesia. Readying his scalpel and going to work.
There is one difference. Surgery is performed to treat patients, to save their lives. Acquiring this artifact serves the direct opposite purpose.
The Grimoire is an inch away from touching my hand, but before Lupin puts it there, he looks at me over his shoulder, a new look upon his face. A reassuring expression. The same expression that a patient's loved ones give as his or her life dangles on that slender thread.
"Close your eyes," he orders, his voice soothing. "Focus. Concentrate on the Grimoire and what you want it to become. Concentrate on your conviction, hold on to it tight."
I do just that, my surroundings disappearing. Visions flood me, approaching me from every angle, every direction. They are apparitions of those dear to me. My loved ones—friends and family alike—those I want to protect. Must protect. One by one they enter this black realm that is my consciousness, their voices resonant.
My skelewog friend and rival, Roger Jr.
My on-and-off, but still important friend, Coop.
The other on-off friend in our circle, Dave.
The rest of my companions join them, but they are the ones I recognize immediately.
Finally, she arrives. That purple dress, that cyan fur, the sass in her voice. My dear Lina. Seeing her sends my chest soaring and my entire frame light on its feet.
They come and go, materializing in a flash and vanishing into the dark just as quickly.
In their place, the two people closest to me make their appearance.
First to appear is him. That black and white fur, those violet eyes, his stern expression. The one who molded me into the warrior I am today. A face like that is one you can never forget. Not that I'd dare forget about him. Though I don't admit it, and my actions say otherwise, I do owe much to him and his guidance. My master and father, Yo.
And then she appears. Her pink fur. Her rabbit ears, as long as mine, and the bow that holds them together. The face that she and I share. The one who's been by my side since the very beginning. Like looking at a mirror. She and I have been through so much. We've had our ups and downs, our highs and lows. We bicker, we argue, we disagree, we get on each other's nerves…but if it were any different, then it just wouldn't be the same. I wouldn't want it any other way. At the end of the day, I care about her more than any other.
My twin sister. My other. Yin.
Everyone…
After the two of them leave, my sight is distorted. It's begun! Light flashes in this space at frenetic, uneven intervals. Everything within my reach is grainy and gray, like the inside of one of my master's old television shows. Being here hurts. Sharp surges swell with the static. I scream choked screams, my throat locking and unlocking. I can't not scream from this.
The faces I've seen appear and disappear. Rapidly. On and on, over and over. The pain burns my insides and spreads to every part of me. Holding my ground is harder now. I'm losing it. I'm losing myself. My consciousness, slipping. Ounce after ounce of strength depletes. I feel it fading fast. Is this…it? Is this the end…?
Roger.
Dave.
Coop…
Lina…
Master…Yo.
…
…
Yin…
It's over. The pain has stopped. By that time, though, so has my body. Helplessly I fall to the floor. Darkness crawls towards me, intending to swallow me whole. It's cold. I can't fight back. I can't wake up. I can't even nudge.
Someone's calling out to me. I grab hold of it – a tiny thread of rope.
"Yang?"
"Yang…"
"YANG!"
The voice is gone. So am I…