Chapter One: Signs and Portents
Mongolia: The Land of the Eternal Blue Sky. Rightfully feared, equally misunderstood; the birthplace of conquerors. Since the beginning of civilization itself, the emperors and lords of China had fought ceaselessly with the nomads from the other side of the Gobi Desert. And for as long as anyone could remember, whatever side of the Great Wall one was on denoted Chinese from outlander; citizen from barbarian. China was civilization, China was the whole of the world. And yet, for all this posturing, those "filthy barbarians" had humbled the Divine Land more than once.
Despite all its open sky and natural majesty, the steppe never had what the valleys to the south did in food and goods. In times of peace, the populace of China would have food and opulence in equal measure, while those to the north would not. The ways of the world had never been fair; but what one does not have, can always be taken by force.
What they lacked in fertile soil and governmental structure, the Mongols had always made up for with their knack for brutal warfare - their skill with the bow and arrow was the stuff of legends. War had become their lifeblood, but it was not the only thing that constituted Mongol life. Many nomads respected the old gods, and the concept of honor was not beyond them. But from such a rugged life, every steppe child grew up understanding one thing above all else: that happiness is not earned, bought, or shared; it is taken.
That is the way it has always been, and so it shall always be.
This was what the Khan had concluded about his homeland. It was always true that the more things seem to change, the more things stay the same. For even now, his advisers clustered about his throne room and brought before him the same problems that his father, and his father before him had been charged with.
"The clans are at each other's throats!"
A shocking turn of events.
"The people are starving!"
What else is new?
"The Khanate hasn't the funding to supply the army!"
We spent all the damn money on food already.
"My Khan?"
He looked down from his throne to see his head minister, an undersized desert jackal, looking at him questioningly.
"Enough of this!" He could feel his claws dig into the wood of the throne, his mind being overwhelmed by a constant bombardment of asinine requests and bad news.
The Khan, a snow leopard, could be considered unusually well-built and athletic for a ruler - but this was Mongolia. In this country, it was survival of the fittest from top to bottom; he had defeated two younger brothers just to earn the title of sole ruler. Unifying the Khanate clans was a much more grueling task that took him nearly five years, and he was not about to let his efforts fall to ruin. It could have been even harder though, he supposed, for his father had also sired a bastard son in China. He had always feared what would have happened if the orphan had discovered his parentage, but in all likelihood the poor lad never amounted to much.
"I have heard quite enough of this shit for one day. Away with you!" I need to hear some good news for once. "Summon my shaman!"
"At once, my Khan."
A much deeper voice had answered him, not the pathetic squeal of the ministers. It had come from one of the only people he truly trusted, his military adviser and chief bodyguard, Ganbataar.
'Steel Hero.' Now there's a name. And better yet, he lives up to it, too.
The warrior in question, a powerful leopard with a stature that rivaled that of the Khan himself, exited abruptly. He returned moments later with an ancient-looking argali sheep that took his time approaching the Khan's throne, as he was nearly blind and barely able to stand. He wore ragged clothing that looked easily as old, as well as a prominent headdress of condor feathers that made him look taller than he ought to.
Without a word, he began to set up his instruments of divination, as he knew the Khan wanted to see a future of some kind, as usual.
The sheep cracked a smile.
Tengri forbid, he demands something even moderately challenging for once…
As he awaited the shaman, the Khan was again drowned in the innermost workings of his mind.
The time for having standing armies is becoming increasingly limited. My country is starving. I can still hold the clan alliances together without invading our common enemy, but it will cost me the total conquest of China that I have dreamed of since I was a cub.
But there were other things to consider. Venturing to expand the nation's borders carried with it the inherent risks of destabilizing everything he had already fought so hard for. The Mongolian people suffered through famine and infighting, but at least they still ruled themselves, projecting their power and influence to the far places of the world.
The diaspora of peoples - the Ilkhans and the raiders of the Golden Horde alike - still respected the dictate of the one true ruler of the Mongols. An unsuccessful invasion would leave nothing for his son to inherit, as the nation would surely plunge headlong into another cycle of bloodshed and chaos.
Should I start a conflict I cannot win? Should I disband the armies and leave the war-making, the glory, to my progeny?
But long ago, the leopard ruler had learned that such things are not to be left to the inadequacies of others.
"Your request, my lord Khan?"
It clearly pained the aged sheep to talk, his voice hoarse and weak.
"A future, Subutai; I wish to conquer China once and for all. Can it be done?"
The sheep did not respond directly, but instead let out a grunt that sounded more like a wheeze. The leopard watched eagerly as the argali set to work fervently mixing several liquids into a basin, resulting in a milky white pool. Plucking a black feather from his headdress, he held it out - only for it to disintegrate into the bowl's contents. The ashen residue polluted the pure white, balancing it to a grey.
"As you have requested, a future."
And with that, the sheep ignited the basin by means the onlookers could only guess at, and a hush fell over the whole court. Seemingly every lantern and candle in the place had been extinguished, the only light coming from the otherworldly concoction, and the glowing eyes of the feline impatiently awaiting an answer from his throne.
The smoke that had previously hung throughout the hall was now violently rushing toward the center, creating symbols and shapes suspended in the air, the flickering of the flames below illuminating them ominously. What was appearing before the onlookers could only be interpreted by the diviner, as it appeared to be utter nonsense to an untrained eye.
After minutes that seemed like hours, with every breath of air seemingly being sucked out of the room, the hoary old goat spoke at last.
"Your desire to supersede the fame of your grandfather is a worthy goal."
At once the Khan's eyes lit up with excitement, only to be extinguished by the shaman's next words.
"But it is pure folly. You cannot surpass the unsurpassable."
The imposing feline now felt utterly powerless more so than any time before in his life. That was the way of fate, it seemed it could never be undone. He didn't get to ponder this very long, however, as the levitating signs quickly shifted once more.
"Though that does not mean all of China is beyond your reach." the shaman said, almost as if surprised to hear his own words.
The Khan nearly jumped once more, but this time he controlled himself, eager instead to hear the full divination before reaching conclusions.
"As you know, every Mongolian will follow his Khan to the death against our ancient enemies, but it will not be enough to conquer China without the aid of a warrior of unbelievable power."
At this the Khan got up from his throne and stood to his full height, showing off his muscular build, but Subutai knew what he was implying with this action and cut him off.
"While no one here questions your prowess on the battlefield, my Lord Khan…" The sheep made sure to choose his words carefully. "I'm afraid you are not the mighty warrior I am referring to."
The Khan was evidently upset at the revelation, but he was intrigued nonetheless, and swallowed his pride a bit quicker than usual.
"Who then? Where might I find this great warrior?"
The argali merely smiled and chuckled.
"The question is not who and where, but when. This warrior shall come to you."
When? I am the Khan of Mongolia – I wait for nothing!
The Khan just stood there dumbfounded as the shaman extinguished his strange concoction, and the lights returned to the hall just as quickly as they had left. The sheep picked up the basin and gestured excitedly to the leopard to come closer to look inside.
"Behold your warrior, my Khan."
Rather unsure of himself, the feline surrendered his paw to the milky grey liquid inside and was surprised to pull something out that rested elegantly in his large paw.
Wait… is this… a flower? Yes… yes it is. A lotus by the look of it, though not like any I have ever seen or heard about. Where is the color?
It was an immaculate specimen, brandishing huge outstretched petals, but this was overshadowed by its unnatural color pattern. As the petals progressed inward, there was an alternating black and white theme, leaving it uncannily monochromatic. Just holding the thing gave its bearer a sinking, unnatural sensation.
The Khan was understandably speechless for some time after this. When he did speak, it was in an annoyed tone, as if he had somehow been the recipient of a cheap joke.
"This is a flower, not a warrior. How is a pathetic little blossom going to level cities and destroy armies?"
His past fear of the Khan gone, the goat now looked amused at his lord's confusion. He spoke to the leopard in strained, yet defiant grunts as he began to hobble out of the throne room.
"Hmph. You look but you do not see, and therefore you cannot understand. All will be revealed in time."
Dejected, the leopard tossed the lotus to the ground, where an eager attendant proceeded to pick it up and dust it off. Seeing the divination at an end, Ganbataar approached his lord and bowed subserviently, if a bit urgently.
"I might remind you, my Khan, that we still have an important decision at hand. The forces of Mongolia await your command. What message should we give to the clan chiefs?"
In his confusion at the shaman's words, he had almost forgotten about the matter he had been most intensely debating within himself all morning. The clan chiefs had expressed their grievances over the lack of payment and rations for the army for many months, and their ultimatum had been clear.
He had until today to decide: the Mongol hordes would invade, or they would disband. The rapidly shortening list of neighbors weak enough to attack had cast a pall of doubt over the former, and the chieftains were certainly expecting to return to their respective vassal states. But now, he had a sign from the gods - a vision of triumph. The choice was obvious, then.
I'm not that old yet. It will be my name that history remembers, not my son's. I will take my happiness from this cruel world.
He could see the whole room holding its breath around him, and he knew his next words were of enormous consequence. After composing himself briefly, he answered his general at last.
"Assemble the armies. We're invading China."
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
As I'm sure you guessed, I don't own Kung Fu Panda. Many of the characters, locations, and lore elements referenced in this work of fiction belong to DreamWorks, a subsidiary of Universal Pictures, in turn a subsidiary of our holy overlords at Comcast. This work is intended entirely for entertainment purposes.
Author's Notes:
- While it should be noted that this is not only my first fanfic, but also my first story ever, please do not hesitate to be honest with your constructive criticism
- If something doesn't seem right or make sense, let me know in a review or a PM; one of the biggest reasons I'm putting this out here is to become a better writer (especially with plot development) so that I can make better content for you guys
- Feedback is key for me, both good and bad; just a little can help a whole lot
- For this story, Kung Fu Panda: LoA is NOT CANON for a plethora of reasons: a vast number of character inconsistencies (particularly with the characters Tigress and Po), as well as problems specific to the portrayal of this individual story, such as the fact that the Ladies of the Shade suggesting that snow leopards are a common sight in Southern China (In my story they will be almost exclusively in Mongolia)
- While it is not canon, I may utilize the show to reference the existence of certain characters, locations, moves, etc.
- It is also important to note that I am always open to interesting plot ideas, as the ending of this story is not set in stone
- I couldn't help but take inspiration from Lord Shen's infamous line "Happiness is taken; and I will take mine"
- The shaman, as well as his actions, should be reminiscent of KFP2's Soothsayer; the connection will be elaborated on later
- Yes, there was a small reference to Tai Lung in this chapter, but the lotus flower Po symbolism was probably obvious
- And of course, I hope you enjoy reading!
