So after a long and stressful final stretch of Winter Quarter, I finally managed to finish this chapter. It was a lot of two steps forward, one back in terms of progress which helps explain why it took so long. It ended up being largely a flashback chapter which also explains why it's my longest chapter so far.

Hope you enjoy it! After this, things start to get exciting. We're on the final stretch of the story guys! Also going to start putting the summary at the beginning of each chapter, so I hope I don't flood your inboxes with alerts.

Summary: The paths Shen took in the past seem only to lead deeper into darkness. But through the eyes of those who have woven themselves into his life, a new story unfolds-one leading away from old misery and guilt-that may yet bring him redemption. Slight AU. Chapter 13-Min convinces Lang to shed light on his and Shen's past to help her understand them better.

Chapter 13.

Lang.

"Shen collapsed? When?" The peahen leaned forward slightly, her eyes widening in astonishment. She had all but accosted Lang in the hallway that morning with a steely determination in her bright eyes and demanded a discussion. Lang had been hesitant at first, but upon discovering that his lord was sleeping in, he relented and ended up sitting in her room, listening to her speak. The lady told him about her discussion with Shen the night before, about the stories she shared and about Shen's unusually subdued behavior.

"Uh, it was only a couple days ago that it happened," Lang replied. "We were working on some new invention of his, and he was too stubborn to think about how it would affect his health to work for days on end. Honestly, it's a wonder I never passed out myself. I was the one lifting all the heavy stuff," he muttered.

"So that's where you all vanished to," the peahen mused. "That must have been that strange object he had with him the other day."

"He showed it to you?" Lang asked, ears perking up. Shen must really have been out of it. "He's usually so secretive about his experiments, and I know he doesn't trust you."

The lady shrugged. "Yes, I saw it. What's the use of it though?"

"It's a…oh" Lang said, but shut his mouth quickly. "I don't think he'd be too happy if I told you."

"You're faithful to a tee, wolf," the lady said, frowning at him. She seemed to be studying him intently, trying to read his thoughts from his face.

"And you're as cynical as ever, lady," Lang replied. "Do you even know what it means to be a friend?"

"Do you?" the peahen shot back. "And don't call me 'lady.' I have a name, you know."

Lang was taken aback by her retort. Do I? Do I really know what it means to be Shen's friend? He smiled toothily at her, though. "I've got a name too, but I don't remember hearing you ever asking about it. Besides, I thought 'lady' was respectful."

The peahen rolled her eyes ever slightly but folded her wings and said, "Alright. What is your name?"

"Lang," he said. "And you?"

"Min. I hate to be called 'lady.' It annoys me, makes me feel all stuffy," Min said, sniffing.

"You are stuffy," Lang said. It was the truth from his perspective, but Min looked so offended, Lang averted his eyes and licked his fangs nervously. "Well, okay, not that stuffy. I mean, not at all, really." Geez.

Min shook her head and looked away, glaring into space. "No, you're probably right. I'm not what I thought I was. I haven't become anything better than the people I despise."

"What do you mean?"

"I thought about what you said and what Shen said too. I believed him to be downright evil, no questions asked. But my mistake was assuming that was the entire story, and now I realize it's not. After being around him all the time, it's so obvious I don't know a thing about him."

Lang found himself gaping a little. He'd never heard anyone make such a concession. Usually people were insistent in their beliefs, and no matter what he tried to say in Shen's defense, none of them would listen. It was like they felt themselves to be good, upstanding people just because they were better than him, they didn't make the same mistakes. Isn't that always the thing, though? People need to feel like they're better than someone else.

Min looked Lang straight in the eye, and Lang found himself feeling aggravated by the directness of her gaze. Eye contact meant confrontation among wolves, and he found himself growing tense in anticipation of a fight.

"You said you've known Shen all your life. Tell me about him," Min said, blunt as ever.

Lang snorted. "What makes you think I would just out his life story to you? I only learned your name today."

"But you do care about him, don't you?"

"Well, yes…" Lang didn't like where the peahen was taking the conversation.

"You said you're all on a slippery slope, but no one will help you. How will they be able to help you if they don't know the full story? The way things are now, Shen is going to carry out his mission to take over China or kill himself trying, and he doesn't care who goes down with him. If you want to help him, you need to better his name. You need people to understand why they should help him. Because right now, everyone else feels the same way I did. They don't know him the way you do. They're going to look at the evidence of his actions, and those paint him as irredeemably evil. So now that I'm here and willing to listen, you have no good reason not to talk to me. If you care so much, you need to convince me why I should help him instead of hate him."

Try as he might, Lang could not think of a counterargument, so instead, he glanced back toward the door, ears twitching at every sound to make sure Shen wasn't about to come bursting into the room at that very moment. He gathered his thoughts, trying to decide where would be best to begin. Finally, taking a deep breath, he began his story.

"I met Shen when he was very young. Well, I wasn't much older. Our friendship came as a surprise to him. All the other children had rejected him for his color and illness. They thought he was bizarre, but the thought never crossed my mind. At the most, Shen was different. He was smarter than the other kids, and more stubbornly determined when told he couldn't do something. He wasn't about to let anyone tell him that he was too small or too weak or anything like that.

"There was nothing he wouldn't do to make his parents proud. I don't know the details, and I don't know what else happened behind closed doors, but from what he told me, I don't think they ever successfully convinced him that they loved him. Still, Shen was a good prince, a good person, and a good friend," Lang said emphatically. "He's the reason I'm not some nobody palace guard who gets pushed around. Wolves weren't really considered the stuff of honor guards, you know, but Shen refused to accept anyone else as his protectors, and I swore to uphold the responsibility. He did me and my pack a huge service by raising our status.

"Anyway, Shen started showing a particular passion for experiments with gunpowder. I think that was when our problems began…"

"Are you sure this is alright? Seems pretty dangerous to me. Remember what happened last time?" Lang told the young prince. "Besides, didn't your parents say—"

"Sod that. They work with gunpowder all the time. My family was born in fire. This is a part of my heritage, my destiny," Shen said fiercely, his talons clacking on every step as they made their way down to the crypts beneath the Tower where Shen kept his laboratory. "And they've never come to actually see the progress I've made. All they'd have to do is look, and they would see that I was meant for this. They never come, though," the prince muttered.

Lang hurried after Shen, trying not to step on his train by accident. Shen's tail feathers were growing out quickly and by now were nearly as long as his father's. It was taking Lang a while to get used to them, so there had been many stomped feathers and accidental whiplashes whenever he followed the prince around.

Finally, they reached the laboratory which was simply an octagonal stone room with a large table set up in the center. Lang touched his torch to the dead ones posted on the wall, letting them flood the room with golden light.

"No, not all of them," Shen said, holding a wing out. "You'll want to be able to see this."

Lang watched as Shen set to work, preparing a mixture in a clay mortar. He took a thin cored stick and touched it to the flame of Lang's torch.

"Stand back," Shen said, slowly reaching out to the powder with the glowing hot stick. He dropped it into the mortar and leaped backward, just as radiant purple and gold sparks crackled up and out of the bowl showering embers across the table, popping with energy. Shen whipped his head toward Lang, eyes wide and his tail slightly flared in excitement.

"Did you see? Did you notice the difference?" he all but shouted.

"Wow…" Lang said, his ears flattening and his jaw slackening. He walked over to the table and peered into the mortar which was charred black from the explosive reaction. "H-how much powder did you use?"

The prince smiled triumphantly, as though he had been hoping Lang would ask that question. "Not very much."

"But the sparks were huge!" Lang said. There were still small dying embers scattered across the floor of the large room.

"I refined the formula. It's much more efficient…not to mention much more explosive," Shen said. "We could launch even bigger fireworks shows. We could do all sorts of things with power like that. My parents must see this. Then they'll believe me. They'll know I'm just as capable as anyone else."

"He thought they would be proud of his accomplishment," Lang said.

"But?" Min prompted, obviously sensing the lingering hesitation on Lang's part.

"Let's just say the folks didn't exactly jump on board with all of his plans."

*thunk*

"They won't do it!" Shen let loose another throwing knife.

*thunk*

The blade hummed with the force of its collision with the wooden target. Lang sat in silence, resting as he watched his friend take out his frustration on the practice dummies.

"It's as if—" *thunk* "they only think" *thunk* "it can only be used in" *thwack!* "fireworks!" the prince raged as his last knife missed its mark and ricocheted off the dummy and clattered to the floor.

The eighteen-year-old Shen had recently proposed exploiting the destructive side of the gunpowder. It was "more resourceful" and "using the versatile substance for only one thing was wasteful and short-sighted." Needless to say, not only had his plans been met with harsh rejection, but his parents had barred him from his lab temporarily. Lang propped his snout up with his hands resting on his knees and watched his friend throw a classic hissy-fit, as though he were seven again. Shen had taken to training rigorously whenever he was feeling overlooked, which was often. As a result, the previously scrawny young peacock had grown into a surprisingly robust fighter.

Less gangly, more princely, Lang thought.

"It's absurd," the prince said, nodding to himself. They had been friends for so long that Lang already knew Shen had lost all sense of presence and had forgotten Lang was still sitting there. "I'm of age now. Soon I'll have to take responsibility for the entire province and yet they still don't take me seriously. How is that they expect me to handle such a burden when they will not even treat me like an adult? No, I'll need to handle this. I'll need to make them understand. I am not a child anymore who can be forbidden from this or that." Shen moved to pick up his knives and placed them back on the weapons rack. Without another word, he whirled around, his train sweeping a cloud of dust off the floor as he made his exit from the training hall, all the while muttering to himself.

Lang sighed, picking up his hammer. It looked like he would have the training hall to himself for a while.

"That was the night everything went to hell," Lang said, looking up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, letting the blocked memories resurface slowly.

"Prince Shen. What's going on?"

Shen said nothing, striding forward so that he was almost running.

"Shen! Tell me what's wrong!" Lang said. He was seriously considering stepping on the peacock's tail just to slow him up. Fortunately, Shen stopped this time.

"It's all wrong, Lang," his prince said without turning, and Lang heard the catch in his voice.

Lang was able to catch up and laid a steadying paw on Shen's shoulder. "Take a breather now. What's happened?"

"My life is in danger," the young lord said, breathing heavily as he spoke.

"What? How? How do you know?"

"I overheard the Soothsayer and my parents talking. She predicted that if I continued on my current path, I would be defeated by a warrior of black and white," Shen said.

"Whoa, hold up there. It's just a prophecy. You never know how those things go. Most of it's just a bunch of hokey nonsense," Lang said, trying to snap Shen back to reality. He could see that glazed, unblinking stare. Whatever Shen had in his mind, he was absolutely set on it.

"My parents believed it! And what are they doing? Nothing! What? Is it—is it some sort of test, what? Or has the truth finally come out? Do they not care? After all the years and all the lies and empty words, is this the final evidence?" Shen screamed.

"You're not thinking this through. Look at you, you're mad as hell. You need to settle down. Let's go train. Clear your mind," said Lang, holding his paws out.

"No. No! It's time I take matters into my own hands. They purposely sought out the Soothsayer. Why would they do that, unless they could trust her word?. And you know she's always right! She gets everything right! It's Nana!" Shen snapped.

"What do you mean 'take matters into your own hands?' Are you going to talk to them? What's going on in your head Shen? I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

Shen whipped his neck around so that his face was nearly up against Lang's. "Alright, I'll tell you," he said with a calm that was terrifying in its contrast to his previous raging. "I'm going to prove to my parents, once and for all, that I can take control of my own destiny. This prophecy will never happen, because I will undo it. I will make it so that there are no warriors of black and white. There never will be a warrior of black and white! I will eliminate them all! Then my parents will see. Finally, they'll know that I'm not weak. I'm not on my deathbed. I do not need to be coddled. My fate is in my hands alone. I'll show them that I have the strength necessary to take the responsibilities of the throne. I'll make them proud with this—proud that their son is a survivor who does not give in to destiny," Shen said, his voice lowering to a hiss.

"When you say eliminate them…" Lang said slowly.

"Destroy them! Grind them into dust so they can never hurt me!" Shen said.

"Who?"

Shen stared at Lang as though he were an idiot, though that seemed to happen rather regularly as the prince grew older and more sharp-witted. "The people of black and white! Who else do you think? The pandas, that's who."

"Wait, hold that thought. You're going to kill the pandas? All of them? Because of a prophecy?" Lang asked. This was insane. This wasn't Shen. This wasn't the same prince who would hide and cry whenever his nana gave him a spanking, the prince who gave his plum pastries to a poor, homeless family when they were wandering the streets.

"I will not let this fate come to pass. I cannot let anyone hinder me any longer. My parents are so afraid of losing me. I will put that fear to rest once and for all. Are you with me, Lang?" Shen asked, and Lang felt his tail lower with the choice between his loyalty to his prince, his friend and the lives of dozens of pandas who had not yet done anything wrong.

"Well, Lang?" Shen said with greater urgency this time.

Lang could see the disbelief and betrayal starting to register in Shen's features, and the feeling tore at him. "I'm in," Lang managed to choke out. "I'm here to serve you, my prince," he said with more strength.

The relief that washed over Shen's features was palpable, and Lang felt his shoulders loosen. He had made his choice. It was time to see it through.

"So we went to the village that night. We hunted them down, down to every last one. I let my bloodlust consume me. If I stopped to think about it, think about them as more than just pieces of meat, it would have ruined me," Lang said.

"Shen really believed that? He was convinced that he needed to kill them to prove to his parents that he was worthy?" Min murmured.

Lang only nodded. "It gets worse."

Lang was covered in blood from head to toe, half-blind with the pain in his left eye which had been torn apart by a rake. He staggered after Shen who was marching with feral triumph to the top of the Tower of Sacred Flame.

Shen burst through the threshold of the throne room, and his parents rushed forward to meet him.

"Father, Mother, I've done it. I've changed my destiny!"

Lang took one look at the Lord of Gongmen and felt like he had been punched in the gut. The peacock lord stared at his son in shock and horror with the Lady clutching at his wing, quivering.

"Shen…Shen is it true? What you've done? Oh, my son, what have you done?" the Lady said with a breaking voice.

"Mother? Why…why do you look at me like that? Don't you see? I changed my fate. You do not need to be afraid for me anymore. I am strong. I can take care of myself. You do not have to be afraid of losing me," Shen said weakly.

"You massacred an innocent village, Shen!" the Lord said. "To prove…what? How could you have done something so…oh gods." The Lord buried his face in his wings, and Lang closed his one good eye. This night was likely to be the longest of their entire lives.

"You—this isn't right. I did this for you! It was all for you," Shen said. "You were the ones who always were so afraid that I was going to die at any second. That's why you never nurtured me when I was young, I heard you say so! You hated my experiments because they were dangerous, you even consulted the Soothsayer because of your fear—no, paranoia! And then she predicted my downfall, and I set out to prevent that. How is it that you look at me the way you do now?"

"That does not justify the atrocities you have just committed. You cannot murder people because of a prophecy! They have done nothing wrong, and even if they did, that is still no reason for killing them!" the Lord shouted. More quietly, he said, "What made you think that this would make us proud?"

Shen wilted visibly. "Father, I…I just wanted you to believe in me. You and Mother! You never believed in me—"

"Son, we have told you, that is not true," his mother said.

"WORDS ARE NOTHING!" Shen screamed, making everyone jump. "You said this, you said that, but your actions always said otherwise."

"We did our best for you. We are responsible for the entire province and that was never a responsibility we could take lightly," the lord said.

"No, you lie." Shen shook his head. "You couldn't even trust me to make the right decisions. That's why you went to see Nana. Because you had no faith in me. It is things like that, for my entire life, that made me believe you never cared for me. I was just the heir, but never your son!" Shen swept around, storming from the room, and Lang limped after him, struggling to keep up.

"I think you know the rest," Lang finished, his body suddenly feeling incredibly heavy.

"So all of it was for nothing?" Min asked softly. Her eyes were distant, and her glazed expression reminded Lang of Shen when he was lost in his thoughts. She reached up to rub the bridge of her beak with her feathered fingers, and every motion seemed heavy like a fly moving through sap.

"Shen started to unravel in exile. It's a strange thing, exile. For a wolf, it's not so bad. We're an instinctively nomadic species. Peafowl not so much. There's always a nest to come back to at the end of the day. Being displaced from home for so long kinda did things to his head," said Lang.

Min was silent for a long time, and Lang began to wonder if that was his cue to get out. But finally, she spoke again. "He needs a place to belong," she said with quiet sadness. "We're not so different after all."

"Ever since you came, I've been doing a lot of thinking. I don't like where things are going right now. It's like that saying—'the calm before the storm.' There's a storm coming, Miss Min, and it's centered around Shen. Either way, I mean to be there with him, for better or for worse."

"Why not try to avoid it altogether?" Min said.

"And how? I honestly don't know what else I can do except be by his side until I die," Lang said.

"How will that benefit him though? It'll just end up you both die together, most likely. Have you ever considered that maybe what it takes to be a loyal friend is not following blindly but being the bad guy?" Min asked.

"You think I should purposely betray Shen?" Lang asked incredulously.

"Not betray him. Have you ever considered that what is best for him may not necessarily be what he wants? And are you willing to make that sacrifice for his sake?"

It was Lang's turn to be stunned into silence. Perhaps that was the problem all along. Maybe if he had said, "No," that fateful night many years ago, Shen would not have had to steal his city back, and maybe there would still be a thriving panda village in the forest. Instead he had been the faithful dog and obeyed his master, against all better judgment.

The thought stayed with him for the rest of the day, after he heard Shen finally awaken, and he had to excuse himself from the conversation with Min. Shen was distracted and unfocused, barely noticing that Lang was acting just as distracted.

I made a promise to protect Shen. But if the biggest threat to his life is himself…maybe Min is right. Maybe the only way to save him is to be his enemy.

Shen is up next.