Chapter Seventeen: The Order of the Robe

It's not that far, he assured himself, facing a three-story drop from his room's balcony. Rippling water coursed through wide veins of the Palace sluice system. Proud pines shot from octagonal stone planters among grassy plazas. Under a bridge, sunlight reflected at his squinty eyes, making him wince. Jieru hid in the shadows to shield himself from the harsh morning light. More prudently he hid from those tall-horned antelopes who diligently patrolled the walls.

His maid had left to fetch his laundry, granting him a rare moment of solitude. Fanning his tail, he checked that the feathers could twist how he wanted, and admired the reddening eye-spots. Forcing himself to focus, Jieru took a steadying breath, and gripped a claw on the edge of the old stone. Gravel crumbled into the shadowy water like dust from a bag of gunpowder.

Empty air stared him down. Jieru did not feel ready to take that final step. Perhaps, he realized, he would never feel ready. So instead of waiting, he let gravity pull him over the edge. His heart lurched as speed accumulated. Wind told him to spread his tail wider, and soon, the plume caught the air. The abrupt force yanked his kite-like tail, causing him to lose control for a moment. Now careening toward the hard stone walkway, he yelled and flailed his wings. Impact was imminent. He slammed the air with his tail feathers, redirecting his momentum toward the lawn.

Graceless, he skimmed his clawed toes on the stone. A foot caught in the folds of his robe and he tripped with a whuff. Out of his sleeve spilled some treasures he had been hiding. Chief among them: the small gear he had pilfered with his wolf friend, Zun, some weeks prior. That night at the factory had ended in disaster. Head in wing, Jieru grunted, and set to gathering up his toys. If he could learn to be stronger, faster, more skilled… maybe then, things wouldn't go so wrong next time.

Dusting his robe, he found he was missing a toy: a small wolf puppet he had made for shadow play. Along the dry grass he saw it, but before he could retrieve it, someone beat him.

"Dreadful wolf," Rui picked up the toy with disdain, "look, the white one finally made a friend," he said.

Behind Rui, his rowdy lackeys snickered. Peacocks of varying hues, but all a few years older than Jieru himself.

"Give it back, Rui." Jieru said, not in the mood for his tedious teasing.

"Come and take it, Colorless." Rui dangled it before his beak. Jieru made a half-hearted swipe, but knew he couldn't overpower the older, larger peacock. Instead he was forced to simmer and scowl and be goaded.

"Look out, before the wolf eats you!" Rui said with crazed expression.

"Yeah, eats you!" Another peacock said from beside him.

"Wolves don't eat people," Jieru said. Do they?

"Prince Shen!" A worried voice split through the cacophony. An antelope in a tight-fit uniform approached the altercation. Fine garb indicated he was of very high rank.

Rui scoffed and turned up his beak. He cast the puppet to the ground and led his friends away with a few choice insults. Relieved at their departure, Jieru sighed; but the respite was short lived.

"I'm so glad I found you," the antelope—one Fangzhou—said. He was a guard commander.

"Could you imagine if you had disappeared, on my watch!" Fangzhou gave an anxious, hollow laugh, then cleared his throat.

"Anyways, you are supposed to be attending instruction. Come with me, swiftly. Things have been absolutely mad lately! Have you heard what happened at the Fireworks Factory? Top blown clean off. They say it was the work of a demon. Scarier still, the Guard Captain on duty was dismissed for his incompetence. Years of promotions dashed before his eyes!"

Jieru felt sour. The antelope chuckled, oblivious.

"But that means a new position opened up. Think I have a shot?"

The peacock lagged behind as Fangzhou prattled on.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concern genuine and soothing. Jieru didn't answer, still quite upset.

"Ah, teasing I would think." The antelope put his hoof under Jieru's beak.

"Chin up. You've got many years ahead of you. Make sure they're good ones."

Jieru quite liked Fangzhou, though the antelope seemed to care more about his job. Like now, for instance, he led Jieru to the one place he hated most: school. This time, however, Jieru had a plan to make his visit much more educational.

Inside the dreary schoolhouse, he was forced to stand still and face that always-disinterested Huang Sho. Dim candlelight died against the peacock's black-gold robe. He brushed upon a scroll, leaving space for the ink to dry as he advanced the page. Jieru narrowed his eyes: this old, unassuming peacock knew Kung Fu. This common school teacher could teach much more than facts and figures. With his help, Jieru wouldn't have to worry about bullies or guards anymore. He and Zun would be safe.

"Skipping instruction. Your arrogance rivals only your father's." The dark-feathered peacock finally said. Jieru shifted, accustomed to harsh words from the instructor.

Huang Sho propped his head upon a slender feather.

"You could, at the very least, act like you cared about your title. Disgraceful."

Jieru felt anger grow, but he quelled it. Emotions were only useful when they could be controlled.

Neck extended, he carefully crafted his next statement.

"I cannot help but wonder if there are things you are not teaching me," he said.

Huang Sho stopped writing and set his eyes on the smaller white peacock.

Now he's interested.

"Allow me to be honest with you, Huang Sho," he continued, slow and smart, picking his words with great thought.

"You and I, we rarely see eye to eye. Let us put aside this silly quarreling. I want to restore your faith in me. I know what you withhold, and I wish to learn."

Huang Sho stared him down for a long time. Jieru refused to falter under that venom glare.

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

Jieru was silent himself for a few moments, lending gravity to his request.

"Kung Fu," he said, emphasizing the word's foreign nature.

Huang Sho didn't move, but his spectacles appeared to flash lightning in the candlelit room.

"Get out." He said, appearing to puff himself up like a hackled wolf.

Jieru gave one last deliberate look, then spun round, whipping his tail like a rattling fan. His request had been met with failure, but he expected that. What mattered was that the secrecy was no more; the veil removed, the mask gone. Huang Sho knew that he knew. A first step—one that must be made—one which Jieru was satisfied with. Huang Sho was going to teach him Kung Fu, whether the old bird wanted to or not.

For a few weeks past, he was under near constant surveillance. The adults tried to act like nothing was amiss, but frayed energy in the palace told a different story. Servants scrambled, and bands of archers patrolled the wall, day and night: alert. Though he so wished to see his friend Zun, slipping away was impossible. They'd know he had gone missing.

"Jieru, pay attention," Lin Shen said from beside him. His father's gemstone head glanced over the armrest of a gleaming gold throne.

Father had hardly let him out of his sight since the accident at the Fireworks Factory. Jieru frowned and looked toward the fancily-dressed pig that addressed the lord. Absent of mind, he flicked a spinning top with his wingtip, listening as it whirred.

Shivering on the black stone platform, he endured through of reports of economic strain and social unrest. One after another, noblemen and envoys approached his father about all manner of trivial of things. Jingfei counted a pile of coins and scrawled notes on a scroll. The Soothsayer sat on a cushion behind them. After a long, boring precession of important people, finally, they were left alone. Jieru's toy came to a wobbly stop, and he heard his father exhale. Eyes closed, the bird leaned his spindly neck against the flat back of the metal-feathered chair.

"New day, same story. More crime, less funds," he muttered to himself, flicking a wing.

"Did you at least take notes this time?" He said without turning.

Jieru looked at the blank scroll to his right. His father sighed again and massaged his eyes with a wing.

"All I want is for you to be prepared. As my heir, you will sit here one day. No finer a destiny could one ever ask for." He fanned his finger-like primaries, blue as ocean rays.

"Do I have no say?" Jieru said, "by your exhaustion, it appears quite tiresome."

"Oh? Do you have other plans? Please indulge me, Cherry Blossom."

Unwise, he felt it would be, to answer that query honestly.

"No." He said, "but I thought I might ask you about something."

The night of the explosion, he had heard his elders. They spoke of The Scarlet Robe like it was a real thing. And among them: Huang Sho.

"Very well. We have until Jingfei finishes her calculations. Ask away."

The secrets of Gongmen City spun around Jieru's head, like puzzle pieces that refused to fit. Perhaps it was time to take a different strategy.

"How old is Huang Sho?"

"That's what has you so distracted? Pffthah!" Lin cackled in a very un-lordlike way. The sound was akin to a chopped-up peacock call, but somehow louder and even more annoying.

"I find it a perfectly prudent question," Jieru said between his father's outbursts, "Huang Sho told me that he instructed you."

Jingfei looked up, jiggling her crest. Lin stopped laughing.

"Huang Sho told you that?" Lin said, straightening himself.

Jieru smiled. "I don't understand how he could have taught you, unless he is very old," he said.

Lin shrugged his shoulders; trying to appear unbothered, Jieru realized.

"Huang Sho is not much older than me. He did not instruct me the same way as you, that is for certain. His methods are brilliant, but rather… severe."

"What, exactly, did he teach you?" Jieru said, words sharp like a spear.

Lin eyed him with suspicion. Jieru could tell that, behind his blue eyes, his father was likewise searching behind his. It was a strangely elating feeling: battling wits without ever acknowledging it.

"Relinquish this questioning. It grows late." was all Lin said. He motioned for Jingfei, and whispered something in her ear. Jieru watched his maid leave, and his eyes alit on the Soothsayer mid beard-stroke. Lin stretched upon the gleaming amber throne.

"That's enough for today. Do pay attention next time, will you? You are a peacock. There is only one path for you. Now let us retire."

Jieru loathed that prospect. All was preordained for him. He pouted: maybe they were right. Life would certainly be a lot simpler if he followed their instructions. Simplicity meant certainty, and he liked to be certain. Just as he was certain he had found another piece of the puzzle. Down his sleeve, he looked at the gold coins he had snagged from Jingfei's pile; hopefully she wouldn't miss them much.

Awake, Jieru stared at the blue-grey ceiling and did not move. Small wings sprouted beneath his covers, stark white against the hues and patterns. Beside him, head tucked underwing, was his maid, Jingfei. Not asleep, he could tell, but merely pretending to be. She was a clever peahen.

Neither side was willing to admit defeat. His maid was meant to catch him, he was sure, should he attempt to slip away. Jieru was saddened by the peahen's diligence. Normally she was lax with her sentry duties. Important, it must be, for him to be safe in the wake of the factory incident.

Jieru grew tired of the stalemate, and rose from his bed. Dangling spindly legs over the edge, he saw Jingfei uncover her dark head from a glossy black wing, revealing a spectral eye with a pinprick pupil.

"Going somewhere?" She said with a beady look.

"Yes." Jieru said, employing the new confidence he had gained.

"You can't go running off all willy-nilly. It wouldn't be right; it's unsafe," Jingfei said, puffing up her breast.

"You belong here, Shen Jieru."

Jieru racked his brain for a course. Then, a simple solution found him, though it was different than he had tried before. Curious, he set his new plan into action.

Eyes soft, head cocked, and beak relaxed, he gave her the biggest, sweetest, cutest smile he could muster. He saw her tension ease, but her eyes yet carried reluctance.

"I'm sorry," Jingfei said, exposing her deliberation.

I will change your mind. Jieru fit his wings around her midsection, and nestled his head in her chest feathers. She hugged him back, hesitantly at first, but then with the zeal of a mother. Jieru gave her another loving look, then slowly released her, leaving her equal parts stunned and teary-eyed.

"I'll be back soon," he said. Grabbing a fresh robe, he gave her one last look from the windowsill. There she was left grinning and clutching her breast, like a parent watching her beloved child. Jieru felt pride in his ability to adjust her mindset, but something about his manipulative methods felt wrong. He decided to avoid pondering it.

Slippery moss and unsure footing marked the path to the cavernous sluice entrance. Midnight stone cast moonlit shadows over wood and water. In his bare wings, a folded-up robe sparkled. Grids and lines neatly quartered the fabric—the finest of its kind. Much richer than anything in the city. Jieru felt his chest tighten. If he was to visit Zun again, he would have to tell the wolf the truth. Who he was, and who he was meant to be.

The stone tunnel diverged in two distinct paths. At the crossroads of fate and choice, Jieru slipped his legs into the fluffy trousers. He smoothed the wrinkles, and adjusted the folded red collars. Ready, he made his way into the secret chamber where he would find Huang-Sho. Foreboding light clawed through the dark tunnel, illuminating edges of wet bricks and slimy walls. Dripping gave way to rushing as water flowed around the central platform.

Voices floated from the middle. Behind a rotting slat, Jieru hid and observed the conversation with attuned senses. Through a crack, he saw a fancily dressed pig next to Huang Sho. The peacock was adorned in a gleaming crimson robe, fastened about his waist with a leather belt. A weapon rack held his iconic wavy spear next to the platform's edge. Next to it, a collection of feather-shaped daggers, and a many-holed shelf dotted with scrolls.

"Why waste your time?" the pig said, "The Order of the Robe is finished. No one practices the old ways anymore."

"I do," Huang Sho said.

"Yes, but only you. Lin has chosen a new path for the city. Why can't you accept that?"

"Lin is a fool. His arrogance will catch up to him one day. And on that day, I will be ready."

"Sometimes I wonder why I bother."

"Consider it a mutual feeling. Goodbye, Wan."

The mottled pig left up a broad stone staircase, shaking his head and muttering.

Jieru relaxed, and was about to peek his head up, when he heard his name.

"Jieru," Huang Sho called, "come out."

Spooked, Jieru did so, navigating a rickety ladder that led down to the main platform. Slowly he walked along creaking red boards, watching as Huang Sho arranged a scrolls into a wide rack. Jieru set foot on the stone platform beneath the palace, but was unwilling to step further. Though he had gained much confidence, he was still apprehensive.

Huang Sho was content to make him wait as he rearranged scrolls. Jieru could not divine his mood. The water around them rushed with old knowledge and ancient secrets.

Finally, Huang Sho spoke.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

Jieru took a few steps forward. "I want you to teach me Kung Fu."

The old bird leered at him.

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"I…" Jieru hesitated, "I want to be able to defend myself."

"From what? Your father seems to think you are safe. Unless, of course, you've been skulking in sewers, stealing from the Palace, destroying city property, and…" he said, twitching his head.

"Frolicking with wolves."

"How do you know about that…?" Jieru said, petrified.

"It was you at the Fireworks Factory, wasn't it," Huang Sho said, "The Scarlet Robe would never have been so sloppy." He chuckled in a menacing manner. Jieru gasped in shock.

"The Scarlet Robe is really real?" he asked, eyes wide.

"She…" Huang Sho hesitated for a moment.

"No. It was only a story meant to frighten and scare. That is not to say there is no truth to the story," Huang Sho said. Jieru listened with heightened curiosity.

"We were known as The Order of the Robe. It was once our duty to observe the shadows; to protect this city in ways the guards could not. Your father fails to understand how important we once were, and now, criminals run free."

"The Order of the Robe…" Jieru said, playing with the name, "you were a warrior?"

"When needed." Huang Sho said.

Jieru reeled with excitement. Huang Sho, my old grumpy teacher, a secret warrior!

"How many are part of this Order?" He asked.

"None now. But once, we were many. Gongmen City has many threats. Some, invisible: Like you,"

Quick as a rocket, Huang Sho whipped a slender blade from his sleeve. So close to Jieru's face, he could see individual ridges on the feather-carved blade. A fading ringing echoed on the timeless walls beneath the palace, drowning out the water. Jieru swallowed.

"You are a traitor to your kind, and you have proven yourself deeply unworthy of my teachings."

Even though he retracted the blade, Jieru still felt the deep cut. Huang Sho fit his wings into his sleeves, and faced away. Curtly, he continued:

"The Order of the Robe had its own version of Kung Fu: one that exemplifies control, discipline, elusion and subtlety. All virtues that you clearly ignore. Now, forget you ever heard of it. And forget this place as well."

Suddenly, it all became clear.

"You want to teach me," Jieru realized, raising a wing.

"You knew I was up there watching you this whole time. That's why you let me stay. I know the forms, I just need guidance."

"Letting you stay was a mistake." Huang Sho said, polishing his knife with his robe.

"Your father forbade me from speaking of Kung Fu."

"Did he…" Jieru felt betrayed. "Father knew it all along, he lied to me."

"He was right to. This is no place for him, or for you. Imbeciles, the lot of you. So leave, before I throw you out."

How to change his mind. Something hidden in their clashes and compliments held the key. Huang Sho hated him, but he also hated…

Father.

"Shen Lin doesn't know what is best for this city," Jieru began, "or what is best for me. Which is why I came to you."

Huang Sho faced to him with two violent steps, lowering his bulbous head to the younger peacock's level. Jieru raised his head and squinted his eyes.

"I know what it's like out there…" Jieru glanced to the pouring pipes on the walls.

"…and so do you."

Huang Sho looked him up and down, deliberating. Finally, his ultimatum came forth:

"You want to learn, do you? No. Not as you are. But, if you could first prove that you are worthy, then perhaps..."

"What do you want me to do?" Jieru asked. Huang Sho raised his proud, sage-green head.

"You are a peacock—not a wolf, nor a scoundrel. Nay, you are a prince, and it is high time that you act like one."

Jieru straightened and extended his tail. Red-pink eyespots reflected on Huang Sho's specular glasses. Prince Shen knew what he must do.

"Meet me at the gate," he said, and climbed back up the scaffold. As he clambered back up the slick tunnel, a pit of unease formed in his stomach. He knew what he had to do, but wasn't sure if he was ready. In the folds of his robe, he clutched the metal gear against his breast, measuring his breath as best he could.

Free of the depths, he tucked his wings into his sleeves, and advanced along the Palace's paved pathways. He fought a shiver and flicked water from his foot in the cool midnight hour. Guard's torches shed flickering shapes down the high, thick walls. The half-moon peeked from a cloud, rendering the world a dusky pewter.

A commotion spread along the wall. Jieru knew that he had been spotted, but kept walking at a lordlike pace, just as his father might. Almost to the gate, a few dozen guards hiked down the staircases and met him in a half arc.

"Where do you think you are going?! It is the middle of the night!" Fangzhou appeared from the group, waving his hooves around like a mad deer. Jieru remained silent.

"It's back to your room with you!" The antelope rushed to grab him. Unfazed, Jieru flashed a sly smile.

"It would be a shame if my father found out," he said, "your next promotion is Guard Captain, is it not?"

Fangzhou paused for a moment. Feathery brow raised, Jieru continued softly:

"Let me by, and you may find personal favor with the lord of Gongmen City."

"Oh, but… no, I couldn't…" Fangzhou said, shaking his twisty-horned head.

"It's not safe out there."

"Worry not, antelope, for a guest is accompanying me." Jieru looked past the long legs of the guards. Upon seeing Huang Sho, the guards stood aside.

"This will not take long." He started, then Fangzhou interrupted him again.

"But—"

"Oh, and do keep this quiet." Jieru slipped the guard a number of shiny, square-holed coins for good measure. Leaving the dumbstruck antelope, Jieru held his head high and smiled as the guards made way for him and his teacher.

In the shadows of the red timber gate stood a hunched Huang Sho. He had donned his usual gold-black silk—stark contrast to Jieru's white-and-red. The old bird's wings were tucked as well: maybe for the cold, maybe for the presentation.

A pair of guards lifted the heavy painted beam that secured the gate. It swung inward on smooth oiled hinges, and latched shut behind them with a chunk. Jieru was proud of his swindle with the guards, but the older bird did not comment on it. Nor did he speak as Jieru led him through the lantern-soaked streets of Gongmen City.

Sparse citizens gave them cursory glances, occupied with their own midnight activities. After many twists and turns, lamplight faded and buildings rotted away. Light wind kicked up motes of sand in the alleyways of the Abandoned Quarter. Jieru paused as a familiar well came into view, along with a familiar cherry tree sprouting from its bricks. The tree had only a single blossom on a bough, and the ground was covered in a dreamlike blanket of fallen petals.

Jieru's heart lurched as he saw a familiar wolf, whose pointy nose watched the cherry petals swirl on the ground.

"Wait here," Jieru said to Huang Sho. The bird raised a brow at him, and stayed put.

Jieru kept his wings tucked away in the sleeves. Starlight reflected off his glossy grey beak. Each step felt further than it should. Saddened, he almost stopped before the shadow's end. Ultimately, he pressed on, not giving himself enough time to think. This was what he was supposed to do; it was the right thing to do.

"Jieru!" The wolf said, emerging from the shadows. Atop his head was a curious metal helmet. Riveted metal molded around the crown, and globular protrusions caged the eyes behind thin slits.

The wolf ran toward him, but Jieru did not reciprocate. Seeing this, the wolf slowed, and eyed him suspiciously.

"I was worried you wouldn't come. You got any coins for me?"

"What is that on your head?" Jieru asked, curiosity winning over.

"What, this?" Zun said, rapping the helmet with a knuckle, "pack leader said we gotta wear 'em. Y'know, 'cause The Yellow-Eyed Demon was spotted in the city, and all. A'course, they don't know it was really us, eh?"

Yellow-Eyed Demon, Jieru thought. No demon, but two children—two lost children who ignored all caution. Danger surrounded them, threatening to snare them at every turn, and they escaped only by sheer, dumb luck.

Jieru took a step backward. The wolf tilted his head and licked his chops.

"Nice getup," the wolf said, reaching for the peacock's exquisite silk robe. Jieru shied away from his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The wolf took off his helmet and pried Jieru with red eyes—eyes filled with points of light. Meadows of fur flowed from his broad neck to his petite paws. His wide jaw brimmed with gleaming glacier-spiked teeth. Dangerous teeth.

Jieru observed the wolf and noted their incompatible physiologies.

"I have come to inform you that this will be our last meeting," Shen said, formal like his elders. He opened his beak to speak further, but words caught in his larynx.

"What?" The wolf said, lowering his paws.

Jieru's chest contracted. Emotions within formed a dense sphere of gunpowder, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

"I can't… I can't see you anymore," Jieru continued, driving a spike into his heart.

"Being together is dangerous, for both of us. It is time for us to part ways."

"Well, it may be dangerous, but we always have each other. We can make it work. We always do."

The wolf reached in his cloth tunic and showed Shen the machine they had spent so many days pondering over. Shen reached inside his robe to produce the gear that was certainly the final piece to make it function again. He tilted the gear. Light glinted off the teeth. He wanted to drop it and run away, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't let go.

"Listen to me," Jieru said. Against his judgment, he reached out and grabbed Zun's arm. Their red eyes locked in a volatile embrace.

"You need to leave this city. I cannot protect you anymore. I found my teacher, but he knows about us. He could tell my father, and then—"

"And then what? Who is your father, Jieru?" Zun said, freeing himself of Jieru's hold. The peacock sighed and watched the bed of petals at his feet swell in a hidden breeze.

"I promised you that you would know who I am," Jieru said, squeezing the gear in a feathery fist. He peered up at the wolf with a piercing eye, impressing the finality of his last statement.

"I am Prince Shen of Gongmen City, sole heir to the throne. I am a peacock, and you are a wolf. This is goodbye."

The wolf said nothing, but he tilted his head, as if comprehension escaped him.

"I'm sorry," Jieru whispered, too softly to hear. Then, he retreated, leaving the wolf to stand alone on a bed of moonlit cherry petals. Jieru was almost certain those big, crimson eyes followed as he left, but he refused to look back. If he did, the emotional armor he had spent so long fabricating might crack. And nothing would be worse than that.

"Your wolf friend, I take it?" Back in the shadows, Huang Sho smirked.

"No longer." Shen said with a deep breath. Inside his sorrow lay a new sense of freedom and purpose.

Huang Sho turned up his nose. "Very well. We begin at midnight tomorrow."

That was all. He left Shen alone to find his own way back. Through submission, Shen was now in control of his own destiny.

He sighed, then felt a tear on his eyelid. Tamping the emotions, he stepped forward, ready to return to the Palace. A small breeze tickled his neck, and with it, a single cherry blossom fell at his feet. He paused, picked it up, gave it one last sniff, and watched it drop. In his other wing, the gear remained held tight.

And he would never let it go.

A/N

:o

(Sorry it took so long hopefully the next one won't take quite as long)