Two weeks later.
The Xiaolin Dragons have been training excessively for the past two weeks. None of them knew why and were getting agitated for being so. Time spent on their chores increased over to the evening, now all they eat for dinner are scarce scraps and cold leftovers.
"This sucks! Why are we forced to train every single day and don't even get a single plate full of food!" A boy yelled out. A tan Brazilian one, named Raimundo. He had just filled his plate with a few bits of rice and leftover fish, the food not even filling the plate halfway.
"The answer will come in time, young monks." A voice behind them said, whilst the young monks yelled out in shock and surprise. The voice belonged to an older man with a white beard, his name was Fung.
This started a long and tedious interrogation (from the monks, however it seemed more like a conversation from the master's point of view). But the monks left without a hint as to why they were in their previously-mentioned predicament. They left looking stumped and defeated, dragging their feet to their own little cubicles to rest.
The night was long, and none of the monks got to sleep that time.
A woman was sitting in a forest alone. She looked quite young, probably around 19 or 20 years of age. She was beautiful, to say the least; her shiny blonde hair was put into some large hair bun, her skin looked soft and milky white, her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue, her thin and fragile figure complimented it all. But she was empty.
Her eyes were soulless, they were blank and her pupils were a stark black. She was stiff, and sat with her legs straight and her back slouched a tiny bit while she looked straight ahead as her head hung as if were held by a thin piece of wire. She looked like a doll that was left on the streets. Her body was bare of any clothing. There were deep scratches on her torso and light scrapes on her knees and there were severe burns on her ankles.
Suddenly she sat up and she inhaled deeply, then she slouched forward again; her head falling forwards.
She stood up, digging her nails on the bark of the tree she was leaning on and she pushed herself upwards. She stumbled lightly on her first attempt, but she managed.
She looked up at the sky, blinking slowly. She exhaled and started to walk quietly, disappearing into the forest.
Four days later.
Chase Young stood at the entrance of his citadel, moving slowly to the positions of Tai Chi. It has been almost 3 weeks since it happened. When he felt a burning pain throughout his body, as if helpless to the powers of a demon. At that moment, he actually felt weak.
He felt scared.
Chase Young was not scared.
So he vigorously trained, hour after hour after hour. Day after day after day. It started to strain his body, but he ignored it. He wanted so much as to destroy that feeling. Most would think that the thing that caused it would've been gone by now. But he didn't.
He knew it was still out there.
At the reminder, he continued training. Harder than before.
He didn't care what happened to the others. He hasn't seen Hannibal recently, the monks didn't cause any trouble, Wuya stayed away; if anything it's rather calm.
He couldn't take his mind off of the feeling, when the pain struck him. It felt somewhat familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it.
A woman was now sitting upon the thick stump of a tree. The same woman as before. However, different.
She was now clad in a white crop jacket that stopped on her tiny waist, a black fitting shirt and ripped white shorts. The previous wounds were now gone as if it were never there, though the burns on her ankles remained; but they looked less severe and seemed to be healing. She looked like an average teenager.
But she still had that aura of emptiness.
She looked across the now-destroyed forest, the few trees that still stood tall had its branches snapped off and its trunk had various scratch marks.
The expression on her face was obvious, and surprising.
She looked bored.
She sighed as she supported her head with her hand. She stood up a few minutes later, and turned to leave the barren land.
Towards a certain citadel.
Wuya was sitting near one of the fountains in Chase Young's palace, looking at her reflection in the water. She touched the marks beneath her eye, and she sighed. It's been like this for a few days; no Shen Gong Wu has revealed itself, Jack stayed at his home (not even bothering to answer her when she snuck into his basement just to see him working on some irrelevant toy), the Xiaolin brats haven't pestered her, Hannibal disappeared and Chase Young was busy training or something. She didn't even bother stealing any Wu, she just didn't want to.
Everyone else was busy, even Katnappe got a new boyfriend and has been idle from the Heylin circle for a while now.
Wuya heard footsteps coming from the entrance, moving towards her at a certain pace; not rushed nor sluggish, if anything, leisurely.
The sound of footsteps stopped just a few inches away, and she felt it kneel next to her. She didn't bother turning around, Wuya didn't want to. It wasn't after a few seconds of silence that Wuya felt her curiosity take the best of her and she turned around.
She wasn't expecting a young woman.
She wasn't expecting the young woman looking at her.
She wasn't expecting what happened after.
The witch shot backwards as the wave of scorching pain drowned her again. She didn't realize that she was screaming. That feeling accompanied the feel of wind against her skin, as she was thrown to the ceiling like a ragdoll. Her yelps of pain silenced with the impact.
She felt herself falling rapidly, and then heard a sound similar to cracking, as her body left a crater on the marble floor. Wuya screamed in agony, arching her back as the feeling intensified. She then felt herself flying, then hitting the wall, the marble falling into pieces like glass, then trapping her in a small cage.
Wuya was quiet, her throat raw from screaming. The scorching burn in her intensifies, then stops completely. She looked up and saw the young woman who was now in front of her. She didn't really look at the woman before, but now she had a good look at what might have caused the scorching feeling.
If she didn't know any better, the girl would've looked harmless, her frail appearance only complimenting the idea. Her feet were bare like Wuya's, however they were covered in dirt and had little blisters; as if she were walking in forest for hours without rest. Her legs were bony and pale, also her arms. Her clothes were modern, but by the looks of it, the girl would've probably stolen them.
The girl looked down at Wuya; creating eye contact and suddenly Wuya didn't want to look at her any longer. So she closed her eyes.
Wuya heard a sigh, then the scuffling of feet disappearing further into the marble colosseum, fading into the noises of flowing lava beneath the floor.
Wuya opened her eyes and scanned the room; the crater on the floor where she landed looked somewhat like a centrepiece and the wall behind her where she impacted had a huge hole in the middle. The trees were destroyed and the fountains too. Then her eyes landed at the stairs where the girl was. She was climbing up the stairs, going at a leisurely pace; her footsteps were silent and her feet padded lightly on the crystal steps.
Then the marble surrounding her sunk to the floor, no longer encasing her in a cage. She felt her body moving on its own, when she walked up the stairs, a little behind the young woman. She was a few feet in front of the girl when she sat on the throne, looking curious at Wuya's appearance.
She sighed once more, and her lips began to move.
"Wuya",
Then there was a small silence that followed. Her voice was quiet and young, similar to a teenager who hasn't spoken in months. She sat Indian-style on the throne with her hands on her knees, her curious gaze on the older woman soon changed to a childish stare.
"Yes..?", Wuya replied, her voice cracking midway.
"Fetch Chase Young,"
At the order, Wuya turned and walked down the stairs towards the entrance. As the door opened the young woman spoke again, however, loud enough for Wuya to hear.
"If you're wondering about who I am, Hannibal can tell you. But for the time being, you can call me Cecilia."
At the woman's name Wuya vanished, wanting to shake off the feeling of being watched.
But it never left.