Hello everyone!

Sorry it took so long to update. I'm going to be posting this chapter now and hopefully Chapter Six on some upcoming Wednesday - not sure if it will be the one upcoming or the one after that. It all depends on how quickly I can get everything written.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and again, sorry for the wait!

The cottage was of a strange make, nothing like the typical Chinese architecture Mulan had grown up in. The walls were wooden but painted white and the floor was carpeted heavily, some rugs overlapping each other. The strange woman led her and Cri-kee to a small sitting room, where an ensemble of odd furniture was laid out.

Mulan hesitated at the wooden structure with blue cushions. The woman had taken a seat in a weird-looking chair that had a high back and was covered completely in red upholstery.

"It's called a couch," the woman clarified, waving to the furniture airily. "They're rather popular out West."

Mulan hesitantly took a seat and found that while the backing of the 'couch' felt odd, it wasn't uncomfortable. She leaned back into it and found that it was rather cozy indeed.

Her eyes wandered around the sitting room. Given the humble exterior of the house, the interior was quite the shocker; tapestries depicting scenes like murals hung from the walls and the windows were small and square. There were trinkets everywhere, a strange looking clock and a large, lifelike brass tiger to her left, to name a few. The pathway behind the couch led into what appeared to be a very well-equipped kitchen, while directly across from the couch was a door that clearly led into a bathroom. The door itself was a mystery—it seemed to be on hinges as its wooden frame was clearly not meant for sliding.

"You'll have to ignore your curiosity for a little while, Fa Mulan," the woman said sharply, drawing the young woman's wandering gaze from the strangeness of the house. "This is a house like they have in the West. You'll never travel there, so don't worry about it."

"How do you know these…things?" Mulan asked, and for the moment she wasn't sure if she was referring to what had been said about her past and once-future or her knowledge of the West.

"I'm going to assume you're speaking of what's relevant this point," the woman sniffed. "My name is Mien Alba, but you may call me Alba. It shouldn't be too hard on your poor, inexperienced tongue."

Mulan's brow furrowed, both at the insult and at the strange name, but before she could speak, she was cut off.

"My mother was from Gaul and she was bought as a slave by my father, who was Chinese, like you." Alba tapped at her temple, motioning to her blue eyes. "But that's not where these come from. I have the Sight, and that's how I know so much about you."

So she was a psychic. It was the only way she could have known so much without having experienced it…but what did she mean when she said Mulan could have saved China?

Mulan voiced this to her.

"There was a crossroads for you at that point," Alba said. "You had two options at that point—either stay, discover the Huns and warn the emperor of your findings or, as you did, go home and lead the Middle Kingdom to ruin."

Mulan rose to her feet abruptly. "That's not fair! How could the entire fate of China rest all on my decision? How was I supposed to know? Shan Yu's invasion wasn't my fault and it's not my fault he's emperor—I was the closest to defeating him that anyone ever has been!"

Alba clucked her tongue. "Closest to defeating him, yes, but is he defeated?"

The young woman averted her eyes, searing the brass tiger statue with the anger in her gaze. "No." The word was bitter, like acid, on her tongue.

"The spirits have not told me what is yet to come for you," Alba continued. "Oh, please, have a seat. Your journey isn't over. You're not dead yet, but if you continue to look at Rauul like that, you might be."

Mulan looked back to Alba. "Rauul?"

"My own guardian. He is faithful, if not rather serious at times." Alba waved at the brass tiger. "Oh, come on out, you old fool. We have company."

Mulan watched with unmasked awe as the brass statue seemed to heat up, as though over a flame, before a loud growl emanated from it and then, just like that, the statue became a living, breathing tiger.

The large cat's gleaming green eyes took in the room before resting on Mulan. His eyes were piercing, all-knowing, not unlike Alba's. Rauul stretched, arching his back inwards and dragging his clawed paws across the carpet.

Alba was on her feet instantly and conked the tiger on the head. "Not on the carpet, stupid!"

"Your ire ceases to impress me, woman," Rauul replied in a deep, rumbling voice. He ignored her ranting about how expensive carpet repairs were in this part of the world and turned to Mulan.

Alba noticed his gaze and turned to her as well. With all of the inhabitants of the room's eyes on her, Mulan suddenly felt very small.

"Fa Mulan," Rauul said, and even though it was not posed as such it was a question.

"That's me," Mulan said, her voice a little weak in the face of such a large, dangerous animal—guardian or not, he could make a meal of her in two seconds flat.

Rauul looked to Alba. "The spirits didn't say she was coming."

"I know," Alba sighed, irritation evident in her voice. "But you know what her being here means…oh, how I hate those old fogies' games."

Mulan was decidedly confused at this point and had come to the conclusion that she did not want anything else to be said if it didn't have to do with clarifying the situation. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?" she demanded.

The tone and decibel of her voice brought eyes all back on her, but this time she did not cower. She met Alba's piercing gaze without hesitation and then, after a long moment, Alba nodded and sat back down.

"Very well. I was waiting for that backbone to show up. Before we begin, tea?"

Mulan didn't want tea, she wanted answers, but her manners wouldn't fail her and she nodded mutely.

Ten minutes later the scent of jasmine tea filled the air and Alba was seated comfortable, ready to tell Mulan what she knew.

"I have always been gifted with the Sight," she began. "It happened first when I was ten. My great-grandmother came to me while I was sleeping and told me that my father, also my master as my mother was his slave, was going to sell me off to the slave traders who came through town because he had gone gambling the night before and accrued some rather hefty debt. With my great-grandmother's help, I ran away.

"That was the first time. I've always been helped by the spirits of my ancestors, and as I've grown more attuned to them, I have been able to beseech other spirits as well, although they are not all friendly. Working with spirits is dangerous business and you have to know what you're doing.

"Anyways, not long ago I was shown you. My grandfather on my mother's side, who also had the Sight, has blessed me with many possible futures for the state of the world. He doesn't show me just anybody's fate—only those who are important to the workings of the world. I first saw Shan Yu's fate, which led me to see yours. Your future, and his, are inexplicably and irrevocably intertwined."

Mulan blanched at this. "My future…and Shan Yu's?"

"Yes," Alba confirmed, and Mulan felt a pit form in her stomach. "You both build off each other. Your loss was Shan Yu's victory, just as your victory would have been his loss. Even now…tell me, why are you on the run? I am sure it has to do with him—there are few events I have seen concerning either of you that has not involved the other in some way."

Now certain that the woman wouldn't do anything untoward with the knowledge—and also not entirely certain that Alba didn't already know—Mulan decided to tell her. "After Shan Yu became emperor, he left the Forbidden City to look for concubines. He recognized me and decided to take me as one of them. I escaped…and here I am."

Alba nodded sagely. "I wasn't sure on the details, but I assumed as such. Now-"

"Can you tell me if I'm going to see him again? If I'm going to be recaptured?" Mulan asked worriedly, interrupting the psychic without pause.

Alba shook her head and looked at Mulan with something akin to pity. "If I do impart information, it will only be about things that have already been done or cannot be undone. My pact with the spirits is that I cannot interfere with the future…not directly, at least."

"Then help me indirectly!" Mulan begged. "Tell me anything you can!"

The woman sighed, tugging loose a curl from the high ponytail her curly black hair was in. If not for the sharpness of her features or the clear wrinkles on her face, she would have come off as much younger. "All I can tell you without violating the terms of my agreement is that your future is entwined with his. I cannot tell you how, for even I do not know the exact details. I do know, however, that you may yet still save China."

"How?"

Alba shook her head. "Even if I knew the answer to that, I couldn't tell you. But I do know that your life will be in standstill the longer you two are apart, as will his. Neither of you moves forward without the other."

Mulan couldn't think of anything she wanted to hear less. "So I have to go back to him?" she demanded incredulously.

"No, no, I don't think that would be very wise at all," Alba said. "But-"

"He is looking for you," Rauul suddenly cut in. He'd been quiet so far, almost forgotten, but his rumbling voice was hard to miss.

"He's…looking for me? I didn't think he'd send anyone after me…there were only a few of his horsemen to guard the others."

"No," Rauul shook his head, staring into Mulan's eyes with a strange omniscient look. It was strange…he was looking at her, but he wasn't at the same time… "He is looking for you."

It took a moment to comprehend the enormity of what had been said, another to completely panic, and another two-to-three to regain composure. "Shan Yu, the emperor himself, is looking…for me?"

Rauul went on, his gaze unwavering and still distant. "He was most unhappy that you escaped—he wanted to capture you himself. He is searching for you now…your reunion with him will be exceedingly unpleasant."

"Does that mean that he's going to find me no matter what?" Mulan asked, but suddenly Rauul blinked and then the distant look was gone. The tiger yawned and looked around as though he hadn't been paying attention recently.

Mulan stared at the animal before starting to repeat her question, but Alba stopped her.

"Rauul also has the gift of the Sight, but his is different. He doesn't have to commune with spirits for his visions and his visions are concrete, so they have or will happen. However, the visions are sparing and completely unpredictable. His Sight is a rare gift, unheard of in humans and still uncommon in guardians. He was my grandfather's guardian on my mother's side guardian and my grandfather, upon finding that I had the sight, sent Rauul to guide me. Anyway," Alba motioned to Rauul, who was now dozing, "they leave him very tired. Don't bother waking him for another hour or two."

Mulan said nothing, sick with fright from what Rauul had said. Her reunion with Shan Yu—he'd said it as though it would happen, so apparently it was going to happen—would not be good. She had to avoid that happening for as long as possible.

While the young woman's mind was plagued with worries and plans, Alba noticed that it was almost time for dinner. "Well, Fa Mulan, I will let you stay here for the night. Let me cook supper and then we'll pack a bag for you so when you leave, you'll be properly equipped." A glance at her clothing gave Alba pause, before, "And I'll see if I don't have anything to make you a bit manlier. Don't you worry about a thing."

Rauul followed Alba into the kitchen, but Mulan could only think about the weight of what she'd heard. She and Shan Yu were somehow tied together. At some point, he was going to find her and it would be very unpleasant. Her life would not move forward without him…but all she wanted to do was to kill him.

What on earth was she going to do?

When Mulan finally brought dinner outside, the sun was nearly if not completely below the horizon. A chill had come with the setting of the sun and Mushu was decidedly unhappy about the whole situation—he would never admit it, but he felt nervous leaving his charge all alone in some creepy old woman's house.

As he picked at the meat he'd been given—dragons didn't eat rice—he noticed that Mulan looked rather troubled. Her eyes darted to and fro, as if expecting something, or someone, to pop out from the forest at any moment.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby girl?" Mushu asked, barely remembering to swallow before speaking. "Did that crazy old lady upset you? 'Cause trust me, the almighty Mushu is here for your protection!" He took another bite of the meat but kept his eyes on her.

"Well…no, it's nothing that like. I think she helped me…I think." Mulan hesitated, her mouth opening to continue but no words came out. She tried again before finally succeeding. "Shan Yu is looking for me. Himself."

As much as Mushu talked big and made loud proclamations, there was nothing to say to this except, "Ohhh, boy. This is not good."

Mulan sighed. "I know, you don't have to tell me twice. And her guardian tiger said that I will see him again…and that it 'will be unpleasant,'" she quoted. "So no matter what I do, he's going to capture me."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on a minute! Who says he's going to capture you? For all we know, it might be across a battlefield—we still gonna rally those soldiers, right? And he didn't say who it would be unpleasant for, did he?"

This significantly brightened Mulan's countenance. "You're right!" she said, sounding extremely relieved. "It doesn't mean it's going to be unpleasant for me—maybe I'm going to kill him next time I see him!"

Then she paused, before uncertainly continuing.

"Alba said that our fates are intertwined…" She went on to tell Mushu about the path she'd unwittingly chosen that could have led to Shan Yu's defeat and the fact that she could not move forward without him nor he without her.

Mushu wasn't fazed. "If he's dead, then your path's gonna move forward anyways, right? So we just gotta kill Big-and-Scary and you'll be fine."

Mulan laughed at Mushu's nickname for the khan and then stood. "Since Alba won't let you inside, will you keep watch? I need a good night's rest. She also found some fabric she said that would be suitable for men's clothing, so when she finishes with that we'll leave and Mao Fang will make an appearance."

Mushu nodded. "Sure thing, baby girl. No Hun is gonna get past my all-seeing eyes!"

The young woman smiled and nodded. "Good night, Mushu."

"Good night, baby girl."

The next morning was hailed by a bright sun and a warm breeze, reminiscent of spring. Mulan awoke after resting on the surprisingly comfortable couch, brought to consciousness by Alba's humming and the light peering in through the small square window next to the door.

Alba appeared in the room just as Mulan sat up. "You're finally awake," she said, not unkindly but not straying from her seemingly naturally sharp personality. "Breakfast is ready, but your clothes aren't. You'll probably be here until midafternoon."

Mulan stretched and nodded. "That's fine. It's not like I have anywhere particular to be, anyways."

Alba nodded and then headed back into the kitchen, where a delicious smell was emanating from.

The young woman had slept very well the night previous. Mushu's words of encouragement—that Shan Yu wasn't necessarily going to catch her and the unpleasantness might be on his part, not hers—had relieved her more than she could have fathomed before talking to him. She was content with where her life was headed; she could still defeat Shan Yu. This battle wasn't over yet.

Standing up and stretching more fully, Mulan contemplated on how she could return Alba's kindness. The older woman had helped her quite a lot, not only just giving her a place to stay, supplies for the road, and helping her disguise herself as a man again, but by revealing what she could about Mulan's future. While not all of it was encouraging, it was helpful nonetheless and Mulan had been raised to return the kindness she had been given. That said, she had no idea what Alba might want as repayment.

She had stripped down to her bindings and underwear while under the soft blanket Alba had lent her for the night, so with a quick look to her surroundings to check for any unwanted watchers—although the only other human present was Alba—Mulan redressed before walking outside to confer with Mushu about the days ahead.

Cri-kee had gone out to join him sometime during the night and the two seemed to be playing some kind of game with strategically-placed rocks when she came outside. Upon sighting her, Cri-kee chirped loudly and Mushu turned to her.

"Good morning sleeping beauty!" he called. "I thought you were never gonna wake up!"

Mulan shrugged. "It's the best rest I'm going to get for a while, I'm sure."

"Mmhmm," Mushu grunted noncommittally. "Anyway, what's the plan?"

"Well, Alba is making me some clothes for my disguise and after that, we'll leave. But I'm trying to figure out right now how to repay her…" The young woman glanced at the cozy cottage's less-than-impressive exterior. "I just can't think of anything she'd really want from me. I have nothing to offer."

"Just ask," Mushu replied, inspecting his claws in such a way that showed extreme boredom. "She's crazy anyway. What do crazy people really need?"

"I heard that!" called a voice from behind the closed front door, and then Alba's head poked out from behind the door. "Girl, breakfast is ready. And you-" she pointed at Mushu, "-will not be getting any."

"Well hold up just a minute now!" Mushu replied, abandoning his lazy claw-inspection and waving a fist at her. "You can't go starving the guardian here! My powers are-"

"-beyond my mortal imagination," scoffed Alba. Mushu looked at her dumbly. "You and Rauul aren't all that different as far as guardians go, one of you is just better on the eyes."

Mushu frowned. "I don't think-"

Mulan cut in finally. "Let's go have breakfast." She stood and secretly winked at Mushu, a promise that she would make sure he was properly fed.

The dragon said nothing and slumped against the stone wall of the house, glancing at Cri-kee. "No respect, I tell ya. No respect."

Cri-kee chirped sarcastically.

"What do you mean, rude? I'm just telling it like it is! That is one crazy old bat!"

So believe it or not, I love Alba's character. She's a sour, mean old woman but she's doing her best to help Mulan despite her crankiness.

Please review! They all mean so much to me and I really would love more feedback on how I'm doing with this story!