(Apologies for the long Author's note) I LIVE! This past week has been - while slightly crazy - very enjoyable. The reason I nearly fell off the face of the earth: I have not seen my significant other in MONTHS. He and I had a whole 9 glorious days together, and he is soon to be moving closer to DC (and me) to pursue his career. For what little time we had together, we enjoyed it immensely, and took advantage of every opportunity. I know I'll be seeing him again in another month or so, but I miss him already...
Now, on to less depressing matters:
Thanks to everyone who responded with my question about what Tai Lung's name means. I decided to go with "Ultimate Dragon", as I feel it's apropos to what I'm trying to accomplish (isn't creative risk fun?). As I understand it, Chinese is a tonal language, meaning that the same word (Let's use li as an example) could mean any number of different words based on the pronunciation and the tone. So, for ease in writing and so that I don't end up confusing myself, I'm assuming Tai Lung means "ultimate dragon" :) So there, the authoress speaks, so shall it be (for this 'verse anyway)!
This is the end of this first story arc. And I'm working out the second one; it shouldn't be as heavy or deep as this one was. I want to have some fun, after all, and everyone appreciates comedy, right?
Memoirs of a Master
Chapter 11
Tigress ate her dinner in silence while everyone broke their fast with steamed dumplings and vegetable lo mein. Apparently Po could make more than just noodle soup. His lo mein was pretty good, she grudgingly admitted. He had thrown in scallions and tofu cubes with a light dash of soy sauce for flavor. The feline had to grudgingly admit a number of things about the panda since his arrival.
One, she had to admit he was improving in kung fu.
Two, she had to admit he was a really good cook. She'd never eaten anything so delicious before he had moved up to the Jade Palace, and, as much as she complained about it…she actually did like his noodle soup.
Probably not as much as Viper, though, who was fluttering her eyelashes at the panda, the serpent being blatantly obvious of her feelings despite her attempts at subtlety. When Shifu said she needed more of it, he wasn't kidding.
Okay, time to focus. Three, Po did have a rather endearing sense of humor and childlike enthusiasm for kung fu. Okay, that was two in one, she had to confess.
Four (or five?), he was loyal…and a very good friend. Selfless, gentle, and had a knack for teaching children (she was still silently grateful he took over the beginner's class after Tigress tried and failed miserably to teach those bunnies, ducks and piglets). It wasn't that she was a bad teacher…she just hated children. She hated children when she was a child. Children could be downright cruel, she knew from personal experience. Adults were crueler, they were just more restrained about it. Aside from that, she had little patience for those who couldn't pick it up right away.
Yet Po seemed to do just that. Anything he was taught, he picked up—and dare she say it, mastered—with an ease she had never seen before. Did that make her jealous? Undoubtedly. But jealousy was one of those yin qualities that she had been fighting for years. Tigress wanted to be all yang—the obvious "disability" of her being a female notwithstanding, she had believed since she had first been adopted by Shifu that if she acted like a boy, he would treat her as a real father would treat a valued son.
That had never happened.
The more she tried, the more it blew up in her face. The more she acted like a boy, the more it seemed Shifu would treat her like a little girl. She probably should have given up, but she refused to allow herself to fall into the trap of acting like a woman. The Three Obediences and Four Virtues made her angry enough to destroy a thousand Swinging Clubs of Instant Oblivion (and she realized much too late that, if she just thought about them before fighting Tai Lung…she may have actually won).
And yet here was Po who, after a week, became like a son to her master. That was what made her so angry. Usually, when he was just being himself, she could tolerate Po; she appreciated his enthusiasm, his drive, and his sense of humor. It wasn't unusual for him to re-create his first run through the training hall just to get her to laugh…she liked that about him.
But when she saw him with Shifu…
Fine, she admitted to kicking around the Adversary when no one was around, feeling no small amount of satisfaction that it had been repainted in the image of a panda… And okay, fine, perhaps she was slightly harder on Po during sparring exercises during the time her jealousy raged.
But imagine, being jealous of a big fat panda! Tigress looked across the table and for a moment her eyes locked with Po's. She quickly looked away, slurping up some lo mein to keep from having to talk to him.
Naturally, he did the talking instead.
"So, when do you guys think Ochir's gonna get that armor with authentic battle damage?"
Our race up the mountain was slowed by the time we made it a quarter of the way up. The rain had slowed to a gentle mist, fog and low-lying clouds shielding us from sight, but also hindering our progress. The village barely in sight below, Ochir tore down two trees and crossed them in a giant X over the ground to mark the path of destruction he had made. Li and I had gone on ahead, following the blue ribbons. Soon, much to our relief, we began to notice signs of a trail.
The villagers had left a noticeable path that had not existed there before, and had done anything in their power to disguise it. But the trampled grasses and obvious numerous footprints in the mud were as clear to us as the spots on Zigsa's face.
Very soon, we weren't even bothering to look for blue ribbons; the path was clear enough that anyone would see it. This worried me a bit, but fortunately for us, as we looked back behind us, Red Claw's army—still oblivious to the news that he had been slain—were at least two hours behind us, and losing even more time thanks to Ochir's precautions.
We walked for perhaps another hour, making sure we left as little a trail as possible. The higher we went, the cooler it got. Much cooler. To our surprise, a third of the way up the slope, our breath began to crystallize in the air, and breathing became rather difficult. Mount Tai Lung wasn't even that tall, or that steep. It had been named "Ultimate Dragon" (or "Mighty Dragon", depending on whom you asked) because of the legend that a dragon had lived within it, buried under miles of rock in a cave that no one but the dragon could find. At one time, it was supposed to be a protector for the valley, but over time, people came to fear it. It is common enough. People fear what they do not understand; whatever they fear, the come to hate. It is my guess that misunderstanding is the cause for all trials in the world. If people sought to educate themselves, all troubles would cease. It is not my belief that suffering is caused by desire—not entirely.
The air became absolutely frigid. Rock gradually replaced soil and we were back to looking for the tell-tale blue ribbons Song had left for us. Very suddenly, the trail ended. We were lost.
"Damn it," Li cursed.
Ochir sighed raggedly, sucking down air laboriously. "There's no way the trail can end here…there's no sign of them, no camp, nothing. It's like they vanished into thin air," he said, leaning against a rock wall. He fell back with a yelp as the rock gave way, opening inward like a door on a well-oiled hinge. We gaped at the opening, lit with beeswax candles, and then saw the tracks on the ground—they led inside.
Our spirits were further lifted to find a blue ribbon tied to one of the sconces holding the candle.
I grinned. "The fortress!"
"Well I'll be damned," Ochir whistled, picking himself up. We stepped in, looking about. We were shocked to see painted murals on the walls, depicting the daily life of the snow leopard clan that had lived here for generations. The murals were well-preserved, and the paint's colors were still vivid, as if the clan had left the place just the day before. As soon as we stepped in, the stone door slammed shut, leaving us in relative darkness, the candles lighting our way.
"Well, nowhere else to go," I said. "Let's keep going; we're bound to find them eventually."
"I dunno," Li said. "Anyone else getting a chill?"
"Li," Ochir said sarcastically, blowing into his hands and rubbing his arms rapidly in a desperate attempt to warm himself up. "I've been feeling a chill after the first thousand feet!"
I walked on ahead, the scent of the beeswax overpowering, and the candle smoke stinging my eyes. The further down the passage we went, the brighter it became, but so too did our senses become overwhelmed. It got warmer too, which was unusual for being inside a mountain, underground. It was supposed to be getting colder.
We stopped suddenly, gazing in awe at the hall as it widened into an antechamber, the walls lined with vividly and painstakingly painted statues of fierce snow leopard warriors, all dressed in blues, indigos and silvery grey clothes—real fabric. I had heard of some cultures dress statues of their gods and worship them as if the gods lived in the sculptures.
Li and I were curious by nature, and walked closer to the still figures; Ochir stayed his ground, saying something about "feeling something was off" in that room. As I got closer to one particularly fearsome-looking "god" wielding a monk's spade in one hand, I peered up at the imposing figure, leaning closer for a better look.
Suddenly the god's eyes opened.
He wasn't a statue.
I jumped out of the way as the spade slammed into the floor where I had been standing moments before, sparks flying as the steel collided with the stonework. The other "statues" came to life as the snow leopards sprang into action. The door behind us slammed shut; we were trapped.
The three of us took on our fighting stances, and readied ourselves for a battle to the death.
"GET AWAY FROM THEM!"
The snow leopards froze, looking over to the other doorway before us. The oak door had slammed open, light flooding the antechamber.
Song stood there, wielding her pudao and looking positively furious. She stormed in, snapping at the snow leopard holding the monk's spade.
"You so much as slice off a hair on either of them, and I'm dismembering all parts that make you male!" she hissed dangerously.
We shouldn't have been surprised when he pulled back, setting his weapon aside. She could be quite forceful when she needed to be. The other warriors laid down their arms as well after she explained, "These are the three others we told you about. They are friends."
"They came in the back entrance," one leopard said. "We assumed they were Huns."
"No, if they're here, the battle must have gone well," she looked over at me for confirmation. "Right?"
"Um, actually…there was no battle."
She narrowed her eyes, "What do you mean 'there was no battle'?"
"Song," I grasped her hand, "Something happened—something huge. We were betrayed."
"What?"
"Where's Zigsa? We need to tell you the whole story before Red Claw's army gets here…"
"Red Claw?" she interrupted. "Why would his army be coming?"
"He betrayed us!" Li seethed. Together, the three of us gave her the abridged version of what we had just experienced, and I watched as her eyes widened, face paled, then turned red with rage.
"That son of a bitch!" she seethed. "And now we're under siege from his army?!"
"Maybe not," one of the snow leopards said. "There's a reason no one knows we still live here." He turned to us, "Come on, we'll take you to where the villagers are."
Further along the passage, Song briefed us on what had happened after they had left the village.
Zigsa apparently had no problem finding the place, as was his habit of keeping low to the ground, feeling vibrations in the earth through his fingertips. About halfway up the slope, he simply pressed his ear to the ground, and the rock face, then worked his way inside; he had been listening for a hollow sound through the ground, to indicate a cavern.
Naturally, this made the natives a little restless, until they discovered Zigsa was the last survivor of his clan. Fortunately for them, Zigsa's clan, and the clan of Mount Tai Lung had been ancient allies; finding shelter in light of the coming storm was far simpler than anyone expected.
For his part, Zigsa had not expected there to even be inhabitants in the Dragon's Lair, as it was called. He'd only figured it out after hearing the activity below ground, and feeling the vibrations of life living in the subterranean domicile. Apparently we had never given his other four senses enough credit.
And for "Gods of Death", these snow leopards were actually rather pleasant, agreeable fellows. Perhaps they were a little overprotective of their home, but given the recent events, I could hardly blame them. The one armed with the monk's spade (and had tried to kill me) eventually apologized, citing his clan's long-time aversion to strangers.
We finally entered a huge hall, though it could scarcely be called that. It was a natural crystal cavern, with huge spires of growing stalagmites jutting up from the floor, quartz crystals embedded in the ancient rock. It was huge, and could have easily fit the population of the Valley of Peace and the Jade Palace. There was plenty of room for the villagers, and the first to greet us, thankfully, was Zigsa.
It broke my heart to watch him react to our tidings. Of all the things he expected from his master, this was by far the worst, and shook him more than being called a coward and a disgrace. To my surprise, he didn't seem too concerned Red Claw was dead, but I should have seen right through it.
Li asked frantically if Ren and the General had made it, and much to our relief, our feline companion answered in the affirmative.
"They got here a few hours ago. There's maybe a score of Imperial guards still loyal to your General—he's a lucky man. Ren was injured in the escape, but he'll be fine. So Li, stop panicking."
Li jumped, "Panicking? Why do you think I'm panicking? I'm not panicking…"
"Uh-huh, get your brush over there before I drag you over myself," he said stiffly.
Song just rolled her eyes and smiled as Li trotted off. "I take it they're doing well?" she asked in reference to the budding couple.
"Well enough," I said. "We need a plan to stop the army."
"Shouldn't be difficult with Red Claw being dead," Song said. "Once they know, they'll fall apart. Not to mention, my guess is Master Qiang's not going to let them get away with this treachery—the General definitely won't."
"But how can we fight them?" Ochir asked. "Our numbers suck, and our odds aren't much better. If they find the path you left…"
"As long as you covered your own path, we should be fine."
Ochir and I were silent, then shared a guilty look. I thought we had been forgetting something…
Song swore vehemently. "Oh, you jackass!"
"We didn't know!" I said quickly.
"I tore down some trees to block their path," Ochir said, trying to help.
"Well that does us a huge favor," she said scathingly. "Because it means you're leading them right towards us!"
"No, no," Zigsa said. "This actually works in our favor."
"How?"
He grinned maliciously. "There's a reason we keep telling that legend us being gods of death…"
I later learned from Zigsa that most snow leopards hated—absolutely loathed—being thought of as "gods of death". The Clan of Mount Tai Lung was no exception. But, they didn't mind monopolizing on it if it meant protecting their families.
The answer to their most persistent problem was a simple solution: guerilla warfare.
I had to explain to my father and the other males from the village that "guerilla" was not the same as "gorilla". Once they got it, they agreed it was a good idea. These snow cats were experts in surprise attacks and ambushes. It had been the way they kept themselves safe for generations.
The leader of the mountain's clan was an older woman called Jin Lung, or the "Gold Dragon". I thought it was because of her golden eyes, but apparently it was given to her by her father, who had been the most celebrated warrior of the clan's long history. She had followed in his footsteps, becoming the Headwoman after his death.
Jin Lung was not much to behold upon first glance. A woman of middle age, mother to three teenage children, the youngest not but fifteen, the oldest barely nineteen, she was slim and slender like most females of the species, but the bulk of her was actually fur, not muscle. Still, I knew better than to judge by lack of muscle mass.
Apparently, she and Zigsa had become fast compatriots. Having the General there seemed to ease her mind further. I wondered how long they must have lived in isolation from the rest of the world. They knew about the Huns, and Red Claw, so news had to have reached them somehow.
Upon meeting her, Ochir, Li and myself expressed our heartfelt thanks for opening her home to the villagers.
"In the old days," Jin Lung warned, "visitors were not welcome. Given the news, I will look away this one time. Strangers are not welcome here."
We decided it was best to leave her with the General to discuss plans for fighting the coming army. We got caught up with the villagers, seeing to them and their comforts.
The snow leopards of the mountain were already way ahead of us. Most of them, especially the younger generation, were curious and fascinated by the Outsiders. They marveled at stories about farming and mundane aspects of daily life as if it were the most fascinating subject in the world; on the other hand, the villagers were just as fascinated with their new-found neighbors. My mother had found herself a "sisterhood" almost as soon as they had settled. Two female snow leopards sat with her and my sisters-in-law, some quilting, others mending clothes, swapping stories and didactic tales, though most stories were about their families. I blush to remember some of the things my mother said about me.
"He was the most precocious child, my Fu."
"You should see my grandson," one leopard said. "What a little hell-raiser!"
Song sat me down amongst my family members, who listened to me as I explained what had happened. My father was visibly enraged at Red Claw's treachery, and for a moment, I swore Elder Brother was actually glad I was safe and alive. Since my return, perhaps, seeing me go off to war must have changed his perception of me, as it had for his wife, apparently.
My parents introduced me to their hosts, which started a whole chain reaction…one that leaves my head spinning to this day.
The naming conventions of this clan were the worst. Of the nearly 500 individuals living on the mountain, almost all of them had some form or variation of "Tai" or "Lung" in their name.
For those with "Lung" or "Long" for Dragon, there were those with names like "Green Dragon", "Blue Dragon" or "Red Dragon", just like Jin Lung. Once the colors were exhausted (and those got pretty creative, like rose, cerulean, cobalt, viridian, etc.), they switched to virtues: "Wise Dragon", "Loyal Dragon", etc.
Once all forms of "Lung" or "Long" were exhausted, then came the "Tai"s. Some names with "Ultimate" or "very", such as "Ultimate Strength" or "Very beautiful" (Tai Li and Tai Mei) were very beautiful, and so were their bearers (especially Tai Mei, if I do say so myself. From any young man's position, she was Hot, with a capital H).
But some delineated into obscure, and at times, rather unfortunate names. You'd think they could come up with thousands of monikers, but eventually, there were only so many variations of "Tai" and "Lung" they could achieve. So they had relegated to naming children after objects common on the mountain, like "Rock" or "tree" or "flower". A few sons were named "Shan" for the mountain itself.
Are you confused yet, dear reader?
Song nudged me out of my reverie, "Are you okay?"
"How do you not get confused?" I asked her.
She shrugged, "Haven't been here that long." She sighed heavily. "It looks like there's going to be a battle after all."
"We probably won't fight in it," I said. "I think the General and Jin Lung want us to stay out of it. I guess if this clan can protect their home for so long, they must be good at it."
"I'm worried though. Most of them seem really nice, but there are some who…well, kind of bother me."
"How so?"
She leaned in to whisper. "There are some here who don't like 'Outsiders' at all. They don't trust us. I think they remember the plague, that an Outsider brought it to them."
"We don't necessarily trust them either," I pointed out, deciding it was better to not mention the otherworldly impression most villagers had for the felines.
"That's why I want to get out of here as soon as possible," she said. "I'm worried that if we fight from the mountain, it's very likely that there will be a siege that we won't survive."
"So what do you recommend?"
She looked about, making sure no one heard her, then she whispered in my ear, "The five of us need to take this army out ourselves."
I don't think I had heard her correctly. Five students, against an army? Well, keep in mind, dear reader, that these were the days before the Furious Five; for the Furious Five, being outnumbered 100 to 1 was nothing—in Master Mantis' case, despite his small stature, it was like a vacation.
For us though, such an idea was laughable, insane, and even suicidal. I for one knew that I could possible handle a dozen…maybe a few more. Li was comfortable with that number, and Ochir, we knew, could easily handle two dozen without blinking an eye. Song…I had no reservations she could handle herself. As for Zigsa, whether or not he would actually fight was still in question.
"Absolutely."
"What?"
Zigsa crossed his arms over his chest, "Yes, I'll fight."
"What happened to the whole not fighting and hoping this will bring on the whole 'master-hood' thing?" Li questioned.
"I kept my promise: the villagers are safe. I promised to keep them safe," he said. "And by heaven, I'm not going to stop until they're safe from all harm…"
Song cleared her throat loudly.
"…within reason," he corrected himself.
"Much better," she smiled. She obviously loved having control over him, and who could blame her? Domestic cat she may have been, but there was enough of a wild streak in her to assert her dominance if she felt so inclined. But she could be forceful without being overbearing; oftentimes she used her very gender to get the exact results she was looking for. Playing on feminine stereotypes to suit her advantage became one of her strengths, even if it was sneaky and underhanded. Suffice to say, plenty of male opponents (and a few females) bought into the trap and only realized their mistake when it was too late.
It was one of the things I loved about her.
Yes, I like strong women. Is there a problem with that?
"Look," Li said, "Maybe we should assume that Jin Lung has it covered? I mean, she has lived on this mountain her whole life. She knows it pretty well…"
"It's her strategy that worries me," Song said. "She wants to draw them in. She wants to bring them closer to her, like the spider enticing the fly; she doesn't want to go out and meet them…"
"Yeah, it's a cat thing. What's your point?" Zigsa asked.
She sent him a glare, and made sure he could tell she wasn't pleased, "If we want to win this, we need to fight our natures."
"Meaning what?"
"We go to the mouse, not let the mouse come to us."
"You're crazy!" he sighed exasperatedly.
I saw Li's ears perk up, and a slow, sly smile spread across his features. "Crazy like a fox…"
"I thought you're not supposed to play with your prey?" Ochir asked me later.
I only shrugged, "Must be a predator thing."
We had snuck out after the villagers had settled in for a meal, and for bed. The rain had subsided outside, and when we had left, Jin Lung and the General were still in debate as to how best to handle this situation. We still had a rudimentary plan, but for the most part, we were following Li's example. Ren had decided to join us as well. Unfortunately for him and Zigsa, their services and expertise were not in high demand anymore. We were no longer fighting Huns, but fellow Chinese.
However, Ochir and Song were now the experts in this field. Ochir had his father's military upbringing on his side—he knew how these soldiers fought. Song had her upbringing with her father, a diplomat, so she knew how most Chinese men thought. Naturally, since women were not allowed in the army, she could play that knowledge like Mahjong tablets on a game board.
Ochir explained the differences in the three branches of the military; as he put it, every branch had their own "Book", or code by which they lived by.
The Emperor's personal guard: "What Book?" (Meaning they looked the other way in most cases, and did it their own way, whatever was necessary).
The Imperial army (usually made up of enlisted recruits from civilian families): "What's a book?" (A horrible joke, I admit).
The Imperial Navy: "Where does it say in the Book I can't?" (A sentiment I am rather partial to myself).
Unfortunately for us, we were up against the "What book?" demographic. As Zigsa pointed out—and with a rather wicked grin at that—that meant we ought to employ the same mindset. I thought this was a little dangerous; if we went in with the "take no prisoners" mentality, that wouldn't make us any better than they.
I think, perhaps for the first time, he had actually thought about what I said. Perhaps it was the revelation of his Master's self-destruction and genocidal tendencies that changed him, but since hearing what Red Claw had done, something in the snow leopard had changed. Maybe it was as simple as being away for five years, and in Oogway's care, or perhaps it was that Zigsa was not there to witness it.
I secretly feared that he didn't believe what we told him; what if he thought we were lying to him, trying to defame his master's memory? Having him snap and turn on us was a very real fear. He had not been raised with us; he was an Outsider. While Song, Li, Ochir and I had no problem telling each other exactly what we thought, Zigsa was still restrained, and in truth, we had no clue how to approach him.
We stopped in our descent down the slope, hiding behind an outcropping of boulders and looked down. Torchlight burned like demons' eyes on the valley floor below—much to my relief, the soldiers were leaving the village alone. But then I worried.
"Why are they sparing the village?" I wondered. "They're not burning it to the ground. They've used slash and burn campaign the whole way here—why not here?"
"Its just the village's luck," Ren explained. "This year, this region gained back all that was lost in the bad harvest last year, and even has a surplus. This army is concerned with taking everything, and right now, there's too much for them to consume."
"We'll need to cut them off," Zigsa said. "Take away all their resources…"
"No!" I snapped. "That would destroy the entire place!"
"Then what ideas do you have?!" he snapped back. "Fu, they're going to use everything in their path…" he paused when Song slapped him. We all stared at the cat, who was grinning wildly.
"Song…" the snow leopard said slowly, holding down his temper, "I love you like a sister, but what…was that?"
Song held up her fingers, which were coal-black with a makeshift paint from fire's ashes and coal dust. "You said there was a reason your kind are called gods of the dead…" she said, outlining her eyes with the black paint, and smudging it around her eyes, giving them a sunken look before drawing a fearsome grimace around her mouth. When she smiled—which ordinarily was a beautiful smile—she looked positively terrifying…
Like a death goddess.
The rest of us grinned as it dawned on us. If it was death gods the soldiers expected, it was death gods they would receive.
Song smoothed more black paint into Zigsa's skin, tearing the fabric of his shirt to make it look like he had fought all the way up to earth from the deepest pits of Hell. She did the same with her own clothes, ripping and tearing. We followed her example.
She then brought out a red powder she had swiped from the snow leopards, which she mixed with water to make a brilliant crimson red. Turning to me, she said, "Close your eyes, Devil," and proceeded to turn me into a monster.
Later, mixes of the red and black paint, torn clothes, and faces green from the juices of grass and leaves rubbed into our skin to make us appear as living, ghoulish corpses, turned us from six respectful students of kung fu, into six demons representing six of the seven hells. If only we had one more…
We had very little time to worry about that. We were ready.
There was talk quickly going through the camp of the enemy soldiers. It appeared that they had heard of Red Claw's death, and that Master Jian Qiang was on the warpath to make them all pay for their treachery. The leader of the regiment, a crocodile, was perhaps not as fierce as Red Claw had been, but he was nonetheless ruthless. He was not fond of cold weather, and naturally dreaded climbing the mountain. The coward planned to keep to the back of the line, let his soldiers do the dirty work for him.
Song and I crouched low near his tent; she had her eyes closed, in case the firelight reflected off her eyes. I whispered what I saw to her, waiting for her plan (for it was her plan now) to fall into action. We each had our own roles to play, and mine was about to begin.
Before long, Song cracked open her eyes and watched with me as we saw Ren dip a vial of white powder into the crocodile's wine bottle, then disappear into the night. The crocodile never saw a thing, and neither had his guards. He took a long swing of the brew; she and I grinned. Within a few minutes, that narcotic would make the crocodile believe anything he saw.
Ren had completed his duty.
The plan was set in motion.
Before I made my move to complete my duty, Song grabbed my hand. "Keep your wits, Fu," she whispered so low I could barely hear her, even with my sensitive hearing.
"And one more thing…"
"Yeah?" I asked.
"For the record, yes, you do have a cute ass," she winked. With that, she slipped back into the shadows towards the tree line while I moved out of our hiding place in the bushes towards the leader's tent. I waited in the shadows, waiting with bated breath as all the soldiers settled down for the night.
Two guards were gossiping not too far away; I smirked as I heard the topic of their conversation. One "had the creeps" about this place, while the other mentioned "this place is haunted".
Perfect.
I waited for the signal.
The nightingale's call lifted over the camp and echoed into the darkness. An owl's call came from the other side of the camp, followed swiftly by an eagle's screech. I darted out right in front of the guards, disappearing into the dark bushes on the other side.
"That the hell was that?!" one shrieked.
"Trick…it's a trick of the light…"
Li bounded out from the other corner, darting across and hiding in the shadows of another tent before slipping away.
The first guard held his spear in his shaking hands, "That…that was no trick…that looked too real."
"It's got to be one of those villagers…"
"Did you see his eyes?! I told you this place was haunted!"
They gasped, looking up into the middle of the clearing, by the fire. Song, who had rolled herself in soot, was head-to-toe in black, dragging herself out of the bushes into the firelight. I thought it absolutely remarkable the way she moved. Not like a cat at all, movements swift, jerky, like a monitor lizard, crawling on her belly along the ground, her claws—stained red—digging into the dirt as she dragged herself closer to the fire. The guards watched in mute horror as she moved across the ground; I was awestruck by her acting ability. She was even making a hissing noise in the back of her throat—simple meditation breaths, or the kind of breathing one does during Tai Chi. But imperceptibly, at that moment, something so calm and peaceful sounded demonic and terrifying…and I was part of the plot!
By the time she reached the fire in the clearing, the crocodile leader had been awoken by his guards and huffed from the tent…only to freeze and pale at the sight of the…thing…sitting by his fire.
Song had obscured her face from them, then started crawling on hands and knees around the fire's perimeter, as if she were not aware they were even watching. She stopped, kneeling directly opposite them, her eyes downcast.
"What the hell is that?" the crocodile asked.
She looked up at him, firelight reflecting off her eyes, and that, combined with the fearsome makeup on her face, and the grimace and yowl she let out, caused a collective cry to rip from their throats.
"Demon!"
That was Zigsa's signal. He bounded out of the shadows directly behind her, pouncing right on the crocodile and his two guards.
Li and I sprung into action after we heard the anguished cries from across the other side of camp. Ochir and Ren had made their move.
Li drew a single arrow, lit it on fire, and let it fly. It struck only one tent, which went up in flames immediately, sparks flying and setting others on fire as well. Ochir had told us Imperial tents were coated in a mixture that kept out rain and moisture, but was very flammable, and Li took that to his advantage.
I snuck around, waiting for my opportunity, and saw my chance. Some lions were running from their burning tent, and I decided to give them the scare of their lives.
I jumped right into their path swinging the Sword of Heroes around, the jade dragon motif on the blade flashing in the firelight. I was small, but I looked otherworldly to them, and I intended to fight like it. The lions dispersed immediately upon seeing me, shrieking in fear that a black-clad demon scuttled along the ground in front of them. I leapt up and slammed my palm into one's chest, sending him back into his comrade, and with a swinging kick, sent them back further. I dodged as one bold cat thrust his lance at me; I snapped it with a single slashing motion and a flat hand. I grabbed the broken end and slammed it into his head, jumping out of the way as they ran off.
I rolled behind a rock, finding Song panting by my side. "How's it going?" she asked.
"Well. You?"
"Not too shabby," she looked over the rock and grinned wickedly at a passing lizard. Unsheathing her claws, she winked at me, whispering, "Lifelong fear of cats in three…two…one…"
She pounced.
If that lizard did not end up fearing felines in all forms until the day he died, I would have been very surprised.
Very soon it was time for the piece de resistance, and Song let out her signal call: a nightingale's warble. A crow's call answered her, and the massive bonfire in the middle of the camp suddenly erupted into a massive explosion that rippled upwards like a mushroom shooting up from the dust. The entire village—indeed, the entire valley—was awash in orange and red from the fire's hellish light, which made the entire locale appear to be a scene from Hell.
Then to our shock, something was illuminated on the mountain path. All the soldiers saw it and groaned in despair. More demons! Demons and various terrifying creatures, garbed in torn clothes, features blackened and charred with red, rose red eyes and fangs dripping blood, roaring and shrieking at the soldiers. One particularly disgusting-looking animated corpse limped into the camp and straight for the crocodile…the ghoul raised his right arm, pointing at the crocodile, who was frozen in place.
"You…killed me…you…killed me…" the ghoul hissed with a voice that rattled in his throat. Then he lifted his head and roared.
It was all the soldiers needed.
The whole charade had lasted perhaps fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes after Song had first made her nightingale's warble the "battle" was over. The enemy soldiers were running straight for the mountain pass that took them back the way they came. Apparently facing the Huns was preferable to facing the "Demons of Zhou Tong".
When the last traitor tripped through the pass, the six of us—Song, Ochir, Li, Ren, Zigsa, and I—gathered together, looked at each other in the light of the abandoned fires…and celebrated.
"YES!" Li whooped, hugging Ren close.
"Hell yes!" Ochir and Zigsa pumped their fists into the air, whooping and embracing like old comrades.
"Nice one, cat," the rhino grinned. "You're one hell of a death god."
"I couldn't agree more," the "animated corpse" chuckled. He straightened up and tore his sleeve, wiping grime and muck from his face; the General grinned back at us. "Good show!"
Jin Lung slid down the slope, her visage frightening, but the smile on her face was warm and kind. "Well done, indeed," she said. "My kind are known for guerilla combat, but this…we'll need to use this method!"
"It was my idea," Song said pointedly. "And how did you know what we were doing?"
The two big cats turned round and stared back at one "ghoul" who had told them of our plot…
Elder Brother.
He stepped forward, right up to me, looking me in the eye. My elder brother, yet I was taller than him, and he looked me in the eye, his expression unreadable, but I did notice a strange look in his eye…
To my astonishment, he punched his fist into his palm and bowed, "Master." When he straightened, he was smiling at me. He was smiling proudly at me. "Thank you, Little Brother."
I was stunned. My brother, whom I'd held—and felt—such animosity for five years, had clearly lost all pretense of my having stolen honor from him…but I had, hadn't I? I had saved our family, an honor that should have been his. I told him this; he shook his head, "No, I don't care about that anymore. Mama was right all along…you were meant for something greater. I saw you leaving the mountain, and I thought you were abandoning us…when I saw what you were really doing, I knew you needed help…even if it was something small."
I was floored. "You knew about this?"
"It was a good plan. And look, it's saved our home, and our village is protected for generations to come!" he was smiling, at me, at my friends, at everyone. "Thanks to you—all of you—I don't have to worry for my family's safety ever again."
Second Brother and my father appeared by his side, the former hugging me tightly, the latter holding me at arm's length, tears of pride in his eyes. When he shed those tears, they left lines down his face from the war paint. "My son…my son, a master of kung fu…"
And there it was, that so-called elephant in the room.
I think all six of us made a face—I know Zigsa made a strained sound in his throat.
My father looked at all of us. "What's wrong?"
Naturally, it fell upon me to be the messenger. "Uh, Baba? There's kind of a little stipulation that we kind of forgot to mention…"
The next morning saw Master Jian Qiang entering the village side-by-side with Borte, the Mongol falcon. The six of us had stayed in the village to make sure the traitorous soldiers did not return; Qiang assured us they wouldn't. He didn't say anything further, but judging from Borte's smug yet grim smile, I guessed those soldiers would never bother anyone ever again.
Qiang waited until the General came down the mountain with the villagers, and the wolf was as surprised as anyone to see the clan of snow leopards helping the villagers along. There was quite a bit of time that needed to be spent fixing the village and restoring it; just as much time was needed to assure the Emperor that China was in fact safe. The General and his score of guards left that same day for the capital, taking Borte with them to plead the Huns' case.
This time, she assured us, there would be no "failure to communicate".
We had been gone two weeks from the Valley of Peace. There was much to rebuild, and much to build from scratch.
The village headman had abdicated in the shadow of the coming battle. His house was up for grabs—Qiang took it as a temporary leader for the villagers, a kind of martial law, if you will. Within a few days, however, my father was named the new village headman, by far the greatest honor our family had ever had.
A few buildings had been damaged, but there were some that were completely devastated. The snow leopards of Mount Tai Lung, remarkably, offered to help reconstruct our home; if there is one thing that can be said about the species in general, snow leopards keep their word. They set down foundations for firmer houses, walls and stone bridges, all quarried from the mountain, of course. In return, my father offered to share some of the harvest with them. It was a happy ending for all involved…
A happy ending, except for the five students of Master Oogway.
The five of us sat outside my family's ancestral home, overlooking the rice paddies below, in complete silence. Simultaneously, we sighed collectively.
"We're still fucked, right?" Li asked.
"For disobeying Master Oogway? Probably," Zigsa nodded.
I groaned and hung my head, "Look, you could have just stayed there…none of this would have happened if…"
"You're right," Song said. "None of this would have happened if we'd stayed and let you go on alone. We came because you're our friend, and we knew no one could do this alone."
"She's right," Ochir chuckled. "You really think we were gonna let you have all the glory? Besides, once you get past all the near-death experiences and people trying to kill you and everything, this was kinda fun."
"And rewarding," Zigsa smiled, and actually sighed contentedly. "As much as I hate to say it, I'm glad Master Red Claw is dead…"
"You are?" we all asked.
He nodded. "For the first time, my existence doesn't depend on the happiness of someone else…my happiness depends on me. Do you have any idea how…how liberating that is? And, now that I know what a scumbag he was, I don't feel so bad about not being a master…"
"Oh, is that so?" a sagely, withered voice said behind us. "If that is the case, Zigsa, then I should have just stayed home."
We all whirled around and gaped.
Master Oogway.
I don't think there is a time increment small enough to measure how quickly we were kissing the dirt, kowtowing, and begging for mercy. Li's earlier comment rang through my ears; oh yes, we were very much fucked.
But when I looked up, Master Oogway was…smiling at us.
"Word travels very quickly to the Jade Palace. Some of the things I have heard sound quite extraordinary…" he addressed each of us in turn. "Like a rhino learning how to fly, or a cat who sings like a bird…"
Song and Ochir bit back on their laughs.
"…a fox who showed quite a bit of strength for one so small…"
Li took a deep breath, but I could tell he was proud.
"…a snow leopard who denied his instincts and followed his heart…"
Zigsa had to bite his lip; he looked like he was about to cry, but I couldn't be sure.
"…and a red panda who, perhaps, has taught the greatest lesson in his life to date," he beamed at me, his green eyes smiling as well. "It is time…"
"Time for what, Master?" I asked.
"Something you have been anticipating for a long time."
We all shared a look, then we hastily stood. A crowd had gathered around us, witnessing this incredible event. Shoulder to shoulder, we stood straight and proud, wondering what names we would be known by…
Oogway, I should mention, had always had an odd sense of humor. But sometimes, we didn't mind so much.
He stopped in front of Ochir, who bowed deeply with respect. Oogway only smiled, "I remember the day you first landed on my doorstep, with a mind closed tighter than your fist. You have grown in more ways than one, Ochir son of Terbish. Because you have opened your heart and mind, you have also spread your wings… Congratulations, Master Flying Rhino."
Ochir just laughed; he bit back, muttered a sheepish apology. Oogway just winked.
"Ah, Miao Song…when your mother brought you to me, you had quite a bit of talent already. As lovely as your mother…but my, did you ever have her temper! Fortunately, you were also gifted with her grace. But you are not your mother. Her legacy lies with the strength of her style. Your legacy lies with the swiftness of your own, and with the kindness in your heart. Congratulations, Master Yeying."
Song closed her blue eyes and smiled wide. Yeying. Nightingale.
Oogway next stopped in front of Li. "An orphan, lost his parents much too young, left in the care of an old friend. It seems the world was against you from the beginning, Hu Li. But fortune has a funny way of smiling upon those who are affected most by it. Since your arrival, your life has changed; you have a family to call your own, in the friends you have made, and in the people you have come to love. This love is what prompted you to follow a friend when he needed you most; from the east, you came west, to be the strong pillar that held him—and all of them—up. Congratulations, Master Dong Li."
Dong Li. Eastern Strength.
Moving once more down the line, he stopped in front of Zigsa. The snow leopard just bowed his head reverently. I think a part of him was wondering if this was really happening.
"Zigsa," Oogway began. "I know that you feared that this day would never come, and yet here you are…" He paused, peering into his face, and smiled, "And you think you do not deserve it. That is the first lesson you needed to learn, young one: Humility. You have always fought with honor, and for justice, but there are different ways to achieve both. I feared that with Red Claw's interference, you would never open your eyes…or your heart. Your heart was as cold as his, but something changed, small, to say the very least," he glanced over at me for a moment so brief, I might have imagined it. "Your helping the villagers only proved what a strong, capable young man you are, and what an honorable, judicious master you will be…Master Xue Shan."
Zigsa smirked a little at the irony. Xue Shan; Snow Mountain, likely to reference how he cared for the villagers. He didn't seem to mind the name either, for it certainly fit him. He was as big as a mountain, and he was a snow leopard, for heaven's sake.
Then Oogway stood in front of me. I felt my stomach doing flip flops. I may have been moments away from being named a master, but I still secretly feared that I would be punished for my insubordination. If I were Oogway, I would do it. I looked up at him, and he was frowning.
I was still screwed.
"I have had much time to think about our last conversation, Small One. You defied the only order I have ever given you, ran away from home…stole food and sacred relics from the Jade Palace for your own use in battle, put your friends in danger, almost got yourself and your family killed, and…"
I remember closing my eyes and praying to the goddess of mercy that whatever punishment I was about to receive would be quick…
"…you have done splendidly."
I opened my eyes in shock. "Master?"
"I have always seen that streak in you, Small One," he said, a smile slowly growing on his wrinkled lips. "Other masters would punish you for disobeying them; I would have been more disappointed had you listened to me. I would have been disappointed had you listened to Jian Qiang, or Red Claw…but you didn't. You knew in your heart what was right; you've always known what was right. And it is that wisdom that you've taught to your fellow students and friends. But it will not be the last lesson you will ever teach…" he rested his hand on my head, as if passing along a blessing.
"Master Shifu."
Shifu. That was my new name. Wait…
"Master…Teacher? Isn't that a little repetitive?" I asked.
"It suits your destiny," he explained. I didn't question him. None of the others complained when he gave them their new names, so I had no right to either.
Oogway stepped back, smiling at the five of us, and bowed. We returned the bow, but he stopped us. "Masters," he said, "This day, you bow to no one."
When we looked behind us, the crowd had all bowed at us, in our honor. Zigsa—forgive me, Xue Shan—touched my shoulder. "What's going on?" he asked. "Is something happening?"
"Yes," I said breathlessly. "Something wonderful."
We left for the Valley of Peace within the week. It took us a little more than two weeks to get back, with Oogway leading us. We didn't care. It gave us time to get used to our new names. In some cases, habit just overwhelmed everything else. Ochir may have become the famous and legendary Master Flying Rhino, but he begged us to call him Ochir, as we always had.
Li still appreciated being called Li; Xue Shan was happy with the simplified Shan. Song was proud of her new name. Yeying. It suited her marvelously. It was beautiful, the way it flowed off the tongue. Some days, I catch myself with her name on my lips, and I can't help but to whisper it, just to hear it again.
As for me, Shifu took some adjusting. Oogway no longer called me "Small One"; in a way, I felt this was a terrible loss. While I may have officially become a man, I felt that the child I had been—little Fu, Small One—had been banished by this person called Shifu. But therein lies Oogway's brilliance. Call something by any name you desire, and it doesn't change the thing, only the words that describe it. I was still the same me, even if it felt like I wasn't, just because of a name.
But we noticed something rather peculiar as we continued our journey. Apparently word of our exploits had reached far and wide. Bandits attacked us once or twice, and we drove them back, oftentimes with Master Oogway meditating while we fought. We faced a few other foes, helped the soft and weak on occasion. By the time we reached home, word of our battles and our abilities reached all across China.
We didn't know it at the time, but looking back, it is clear what had happened: quite simply, we were the Furious Five of our day.
"So that's how he got his name," Mantis said. "I'd always wondered about that."
"Master Yeying…" Viper said wistfully. "He's right—it is a beautiful name! But, I swear I've heard it somewhere before…"
"Yeah..." Tigress said, staring into space. "Me too."
Po yawned hugely, snuffing out a couple candles. "Well, I guess it can wait until morning, right? I'm bushed, I think I'll turn in..."
"To what?" Mantis asked.
"What?"
"You'll turn in to what?" the insect snickered.
Po just sighed and shook his head, too tired to deal with Mantis this late. "Good night guys..."
Blah, this chapter could have gone better. C'est la vie, Que sera sera, scheitza happens.