Chapter Three: The Banquet Table
Sleepless, Crane carved through the dusk wind currents. His wingstrokes blended together in an effortless routine. Distant clouds formed an encroaching embankment, under which a jagged forest pooled beneath a few low hills and cliffs. A small dot of light offered a break in the void, inspiring in the moon-soaked landscape.
That must be the bar.
Crane glanced behind him to the red lanterns of Gongmen City, some leagues behind them already. They smothered the ground like the coals of a still smoldering fire—a remnant of Lord Shen's terrible conquest. He saw shades of cannon-fire in the dying flames. His left wing twinged at the thought, but even yet, the receding lights reminded him of when he left his home, years ago.
The bird sighed inwardly, shivering off the unpleasant association.
A sudden gust from the growing storm rocked Crane on his flight path, knocking his hat loose. It suffered a random descent, subject to the whims of an uncaring wind. Crane narrowed his wings and dove for the shifting disc, analyzing its pattern in the dim dusk. His hat neared the indifferent trees, but the skilled bird caught it in his long beak before it could become estranged. He settled it on the safety of his head with a long leg, complete once more.
I won't lose you that easily, little buddy.
Malevolent clouds had begun to dull the moon. The weather was troubling—flying during a storm was a fool's gambit—but he could walk back to the city if need be. Flying was his escape, but he had to return to the ground sometime.
"What're you doing up there, Crane? Training for the circus?" Monkey shouted from the path below. Beside the mammal sauntered Po, Mantis and Viper.
"It's just up ahead, I think," Crane said as he landed beside them in the trodden cleft. Fragrant pine trees bordered their path.
"Great, we're almost there..." Po said between heavy breaths, "couldn't we have picked a closer place to celebrate?"
"It's all about the destination, Po," Mantis said, hopping onto the panda's heaving shoulder.
Viper gave Crane a quick smirk before addressing the others. "We'd better get a move on if we want to return before dawn. Shifu is expecting me."
"Say, did you get a clue about that wolf?" Mantis asked Crane.
"No. We went to see Shifu and Tigress, but they were totally trapped in that meeting hall—Behind a wall of secretaries."
"Well," Po said in a negotiating tone. "I wouldn't say trapped. More like... held prisoner. At least that's how the meetings felt. Both of them would barely talk to me."
"To be fair, you kept interrupting every five minutes," Viper said inoffensively.
Crane watched Po out of his periphery as they walked. The way he stepped revealed a hint of tension in his gait.
Monkey walked on his hands like an acrobat. "What's going on with this city? The wolf, Shifu separating us, the super long meetings..."
"I don't know..." Crane answered dully. "I thought we'd be heading home by now."
The troupe rounded a bend. At the end of the arboreal walkway sat a squat building; little more than a hut, really. It had a thatched roof and an iron-banded door. Orange glowed from a tiny window, minuscule in the sea of blue moonlight.
"Woah..." Po said with awe, "...that's it?"
"Well, I'm impressed," Crane snarked.
Mantis grunted with indignation. "Ah, come on guys. Ox said this place was bomb."
"Looks cozy," Viper said. Her thin mouth betrayed her lack of confidence.
"Alright, well, never judge a restaurant by its plaster, as dad always said," Po chuckled and rubbed his palms. He took a few steps forward, beckoning to the others. Then, something small fell out of his trousers, and he scrambled to pick it up.
"Whatcha got there, buddy?" Mantis said, still atop the lumbering bear's shoulder. Po dusted the gravel from it before hiding it again.
"Oh, nothing. Just a souvenir I picked up in Gongmen City. That's all."
Po used the same tone that he always did while trying to hide something. Crane knew better than to push it. And so, it seemed, did the others.
A light drizzle began as they walked under the building's covered awning. Through the creaky door, a suspiciously well-polished wooden floor reflected the lanterns above. The tavern was empty, save for the five of them, though the low ceiling and dim lighting made it feel rather cramped. Crane looked around with bared skepticism; it was a humble establishment, to say the least.
One thing stood out in the circular room: the four tables arranged to match the curve of the wall. Each was identical, and much darker than the glossy wood of the floor. Flickering light from the lanterns shimmered off of beautiful carvings, inlaid with gold fire. Silver trim outlined the angled edges. They were massive; too big to have fit through the unimpressive door. It was almost as if the tavern had been built around the commanding furniture.
A crash emanated from some back room, and a wok whacked open a swinging door. The cookware skittered to a halt in front of the dubious warriors.
"Coming!" shouted a black spotted pig as he pushed through the door. A cane offset his pronounced limp, though he hurried as if unhindered. His voice was one you'd expect from a distant, yet kind, relative.
"Oh, deary me. Many apologies," he said, too intent on his dish to notice the warriors standing before him.
"Here, let me get that." Po grabbed the wok and offered it to the pig, who finally looked up.
"Thank you kindly," the pig huffed, "my name is Mr. Wan... a- a- ah!"
He blanched and stumbled backwards.
"Th- the Dragon Warrior!" He pointed, then doubled over in an emotional bow.
"Yes, it is I... The Dragon Warrior," Po boasted with a triumphant pose. Crane moaned; Po really was terrible at introductions.
"Oh, uh..." the panda backtracked when he saw his friends' chagrin.
"Just Po is fine."
"Woah. You alright there buddy?" Mantis called down to the pig.
Mr. Wan gasped and surveyed the Five as if just now noticing them. "And The Furious Five!"
"My, I had hoped you would walk through my door one day. Master Ox and Master Croc told me so much about you!"
The pig looked each of them over with a reverence Crane had come to expect. He shifted his weight impatiently. Fame was exhausting sometimes.
"You must be Master Viper, daughter of Grand Master Viper."
Viper blushed at the mention of her father.
"The world famous Master Mantis. I'm a huge fan of your feat on Crocodile Island!"
"Yeah, that's a classic," Mantis chirped with delight.
"Master Monkey of the Four Fists. It is said that you can beat the pants off of anyone. Ah, ah, I don't need a demonstration."
Monkey smirked to the others, "I like this pig."
"And... oh, don't tell me… Aha, Master Crane, is it?"
Crane raised an eyebrow, and Monkey tried to hide a snicker. Mr. Wan cleared his throat.
"Pardon me. I am getting ahead of myself. Welcome to the Cherry Blossom Inn! Or as my father used to say, 'you know the rules, there ain't any!'"
Mr. Wan laughed, and then beckoned them to the out-of-place tables.
"Come, come! Seat yourselves wherever you please, and call for me when you're ready." The pig retreated to a bar on the rear wall, waddling like a festival costume.
"Oh, and remember," Mr. Wan glanced over his shoulder.
"Anyone asks, you never heard of me. Hmm?"
And with that, he disappeared behind the bar top.
"Okay," Crane said, put off by the comment.
After trading glances, the warriors found their seats—at the table across from the door, habitually. Crane's stool squeaked as he shoved it out of his way. He set his hat down on it; a better use for the chair than as a place to sit. Come to think of it, most furniture in China was unusable for him. He hadn't seen true avian accommodations in a long time—it would be nice to see a real perch now and then.
Crane stepped up to the table, still apprehensive about the night. He looked out of a window to his left, and heard the patter of rain as it impacted the inn's side.
"Alright, it's about midnight now, so we should only spend a few hours here at most." Crane eyed each of them sternly as he spoke.
"Or, we could just wing it and see what happens," Mantis offered with a chirp of his antennae.
"Ha! Wing it," Monkey chortled.
Crane threw them a peeved glare.
"Guys, let's just take it easy," Po said. "The goal of coming here is to relax. You know, spend some time together."
Crane nodded to him gratefully. "Alright. But let's not get carried away. We can still be responsible about this."
He had to admit: he felt a little lame saying that.
"Well, whatever happens, I'm sure it will be a good night," Viper added. Her head swished like a bouquet of peonies. Crane couldn't help smiling a little; perhaps she was right.
Monkey sprung up onto the table and yelled, "Yeah, let's do this!"
In the awkward silence, that followed, Mantis chirped twice. "You guys have no idea how to order at a bar, do you."
"I do!" Monkey said.
"I meant the rest of them." Mantis sighed. "Alright everyone. Watch closely."
The bug cleared his throat, and loosed a mighty bellow. "WAITER!"
Crane dipped the very tip of his beak into his cup, and drew the last of the wine into it. Drinking from a cup had been one of the more unexpected skills he had acquired at The Jade Palace, but nevertheless among the most useful. The bitter liquid traced a path down his lengthy throat, and settled pleasantly into his stomach.
Outside of his laughing friends' view, the drizzle slowly changed into a steady rain. Packets of moisture tapped the roof with a thousand scratches. Crane had given up on glancing out of the window every few minutes, and instead simply let the rhythmic drops become the background of their night.
The bird set his empty cup down and smiled gayly; Mantis was at the end of a brand new story, something the green warrior had picked up in Gongmen.
"So anyway, the brown pig goes: 'I swear, I thought she was a mermaid!' Sure you did buddy, sure you did."
The conclusion of Mantis' story produced scattered guffaws from the assorted warriors. The bug drained his glass; he had to use both claws to raise the cup to his mouth. Despite his size, his fortitude was impressive.
Po was at the head of the beautifully carved, dark-wood table. Every so often, the panda would stare quickly at the empty seat across from Crane.
"We've only been here for three days, and you've already done all that?" Viper asked Mantis, curling her clover tail around her own mug of honeyed wine.
"Hey, opportunity is out there, if you're willing to look for it." Mantis crossed his claws, seemingly proud of his impromptu wisdom.
Crane scoffed and pointed a wing toward the bug. "He only gets these stories because while I'm moving bricks, he's talking to the pigs."
"It's true," Monkey added amidst the disparate chuckles, "forget the Jade Palace, I think Mantis would be more welcome in the sty."
"What can I say, I feel at home with the common man." Mantis made a mocking bow to his superiors.
Crane lazily looked around the humble tavern. There was a distinct haziness to the air, as if an invisible woolen fog wafted through it. Crane readjusted his wings, primaries tingling as he wiggled them in the peculiar thickness.
"Look, Viper, it's your dad!" Monkey slid his tail across the table up to Viper, teasing her with a snake-like motion.
"Come on, my father's not that hairy," the snake said as she swatted Monkey away with her own sinuous tail.
Crane saw Po smile at the exchange, then focus on the mug he had gripped in his paws.
"Say, what's on your mind?" Crane asked, ignoring his earlier restraint. He was curious as to what the panda felt about the last few days. Po hadn't said much the whole night, come to think of it.
"What? Oh..." Po said, quickly glancing Crane's way.
"It's just... We're all having so much fun. Which is good, but I feel bad that I couldn't ask Tigress to come with us."
"Oh," Mantis said. "Yeah. She always brings that element of... how should I say this..."
"Seriousness?" Viper interjected, rather sassily.
"Honestly, I would be surprised if she would want to come to a dive like this," Mantis continued.
"Whole time I've known her, she's been business only."
Po huffed and returned to his drink. "It's almost like she's avoiding me."
"Hey, word of advice," Monkey gestured to Po with his cup, spilling a bit, "give her a little space. I know it sounds bad, but she's..."
"Hardcore?" Po said with browed eyes.
"Hardcore," Monkey repeated.
It was true; Tigress was hardcore. But they all were, in their own way. Being a Kung Fu Master had its own sacrifices—a rigid regime of training and discipline, for one. And a detachment from the physical, for another. But Crane knew the purpose was worth the sacrifice.
"She'll loosen up," Mantis said, "she seems to have gotten a tiny bit less grumpy ever since you came along, big guy."
Viper and Monkey agreed. Crane thought so too, but wondered what that meant for the future.
"So, you guys ever think about what comes next?" Mantis asked unprompted.
Po looked over and snorted. "Next?"
"You know, like... life after The Jade Palace."
Crane was confused, too. "After?"
"Well, I mean... it's not like we're gonna spend our entire lives there."
"Sure." Crane hadn't given it much thought. "I guess we're not."
"We saved this run-down city. I don't know how many more I have left in me."
"Hold on. There's always more stuff to do," Po said, "it's not like bandits are going to just stop existing."
"But that's just it. We keep fighting and fighting, it seems like it goes on forever." Mantis lolled his head to the side, rubbing the black varnish of the table with a tiny foot.
"I gotta say, I really thought we were done for this time. Po," Mantis inched closer to the Panda.
"I thought you were gone. We all did."
"Yeah... well, I got lucky."
"Exactly. What if, next time, we aren't so lucky?"
Viper spoke up, adding her sanguine voice. "We always have each other. And we always make it through. Right, Crane?"
He nodded to her. Mantis shook his downturned head.
"I'm sorry. I love fighting with you guys, I really do, but honestly, I feel a little stuck. I have goals, I have ambitions. I just... don't think my life should end with The Jade Palace." The words weighed down on Crane's feathered brow.
Monkey nodded with sympathy.
Crane felt odd, and almost angry. He had known Mantis for a long time—the bug had been wild at times, but he cared about their work as much as any of them. The Jade Palace and his friends were all that Crane had ever cared about.
A first peal of thunder cracked outside, as if echoing the musings around the dark, black table.
"So! How are you fine masters finding everything tonight?"
Crane flapped his wings at the unexpected interruption. The masters shifted in their seats; Mr. Wan had limped in with an unintentional stealth, holding a renewed tray aloft.
"Just great," Crane said through a frowned beak, looking at the bug in the middle of the table.
Viper cleared her throat sharply. "Oh yes, the refreshments are lovely, thank you."
"Oh, I am so grateful... serving Kung Fu Masters is quite an ambition of mine. Don't get many around here."
"Can't imagine why," Po whispered with an innocent expression.
Viper shot the boys a look that said 'cut it out!'
Crane directed his words to Mantis with a jabbing tone. "It's always nice to be appreciated."
Mantis scoffed and looked away. Crane reached up with a foot and grabbed the edge of the table with his talons. He was about to continue when Mr. Wan brought a hoof to his chin.
"Oh, oh! Careful now... you wouldn't want to scratch the table," the bartender said with a nervous laugh.
"Oh," Crane released his clenched grip, irritated by the pig's apparent curtness toward him. "I didn't realize that this table was so important to you."
Mr. Wan shifted, seemingly uncomfortable. "Well, it's all I have left of my father."
Crane winced, berating himself for his insensitivity. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize."
"Fascinating story that. You see, we used to be a rich family, but my father won this table in an auction. Drove us almost as broke as Gongmen City herself was, back in those days. I still owe money to the Fungs. Blasted aristocrats, them." A melancholy chuckle escaped his lackluster lips.
"I'm not sure why my pap wanted the Shen family banquet table, but it certainly brings a little authenticity to the Cherry Blossom Inn, don't you think?"
More thunder broke outside. Crane stared at the black wood with a newfound gravity—and aversion. Po perked up.
"Wait, this table belonged to Lord Shen?" Po said, rapping a gold line with a paw.
That murderer used to sit here? Crane thought, perturbed.
"Oh, no, it's a Shen family heirloom. That accursed peacock probably never so much as glanced at this table. It was mainly for decoration. Never mind that now, all is said and done."
Mr. Wan raised his tray with jolity. "So, how about another round, in The Dragon Warrior's—erm, Po's honor?"
"Yeesh. I'll take a double," Mantis huffed, scampering to receive yet another drink.
As the others discussed the revelation, Crane stared blankly at the piece of Gongmen history in front of him, dizzy. One pointed, red-eyed face continually presented itself, unbidden. The same face he couldn't seem to forget: Lord Shen's.
Once the robed peacock had been rid from the city, Crane thought that he would continue on, as he always had, to the next mission. But the malice and hate he had witnessed, and the certainty of death that had gripped him, made him understand Mantis' point of view. For over ten years he had known his purpose: defend those who couldn't themselves. But a slowly nucleating prickle of doubt shook him about like his hat in the wind.
"Hey, um... I think I need to go get some air," Crane said, grabbing his hat from beside the banquet table. He stumbled a bit before finding an agreeable stride.
"You alright?" Po asked, with an air of concern.
"Ah, don't worry, Po. Crane's always been a little moody," Mantis said—in a rather audible, jesting whisper.
Crane travelled through the The Cherry Blossom Inn, his steps slowing in the uncertain light. The glassy floor beneath him was like the rice paddies he grew up tending. He hazily looked to his sides, imagining spiky stalks of duckweed and rows upon rows of crops. Other cranes toiled in the distance, under their straw hats, too far out of reach. He could greet them—members of his own kind—if only he left the ground. Such a joy it would be to fly. Though he probably shouldn't. He had obligations.
Crane kicked the front door open a bit harder than he had intended. He paused as he beheld the storm-whipped landscape beyond the awning. The crash of a thousand rain drops was irritating.
The chatter behind him waned as the door gently shut. Engulfed in a world of water and sound, Crane stood still and savored the satin solitude.
