Chapter One: No Rest for the Winged
The first thing Crane became aware of were his crossed legs, which were immobile and tangled. The cloth of the bed felt suffocating, and he fought to free his beak from the mess. At least now he had an explanation as to why he only slept standing up.
Crane kicked off the bedding and looked around his room, annoyed. New sunlight broke through the single small window on the wall; it washed the ubiquitous planks in peach shadows. A vented door perforated the opposite side, and a lone, unlit candle sat on a table in the corner. It was a far sight from his paper walled bunk room in the Jade Palace, albeit just as plain. Apparently, The Broomstick Inn was all a Kung Fu master rated in this city, but he had seen worse. Much worse.
The bird sighed and scratched the back of his long neck with a stick-like foot, wincing as his sore muscles complained. He yawned and hobbled over to a mat that lay in front of the window, which was still unfurled from last morning. A pile of scrolls that he was too busy to read propped up his wide brimmed hat, next to a small bundle of supplies. Crane looked out of the window and stretched in the cramped room, ruffling his feathers like a bird in a cage.
He unfurled his wings as much as he could, shut his eyes, and focused on his breath. He tried to push away external thoughts: the fire in his limbs, the smell of old wood, the heat of the sun on his beak, and the sounds of a bustling and unfamiliar city. When he had reached a relative calm, the bird began the slow, gentle movement of his morning Tai Chi routine.
As he assumed the first pose, he immediately felt himself relax. The familiar exercise made the city of Gongmen feel less foreign.
His wingtips whistled slightly as he swept them through the blindness.
The liquid motions of the routine reminded Crane of his first weeks at the Jade Palace. He and the other warriors of the Furious Five—Mantis, Monkey, Tigress and Viper—would practice Tai Chi from dawn to dusk. He grumbled about those early, exhausting days, same as his friends, but Tai Chi remained his favorite. Though, he would never admit that for fear of their certain ridicule. The slow movements were unexciting and simple—but powerful.
He felt the weight of the metal bangles on his leg as his articulated foot sought purchase on the coarse floorboards behind him.
Crane missed the Five, and the panda, Po. It had only been two days since the morning Po defeated Shen. Two days since they met with The Master's Council to determine what to do next. For two days they had been separated, completing tasks to repair and heal the restless city. Two long, hard, boring days.
He lunged low, swept a wing deep in a glacier-pace strike, and found himself unsatisfied with his balance.
The story of this last adventure would no doubt join some of the most legendary tales. Po had done the impossible—again. But now, it was over. Well, the satisfying part of it, at least. He was eager to go on to the next mission, as was his duty to The Jade Palace, to Kung Fu and to China. As long as he was able, he would continue to defend the innocent.
And how long will that be?
A sliver of unease pierced his calm.
The bird swiveled to a halt in a tranquil glide, and rested one wing atop the other. He imagined he held a ball of pure jade: a sphere pure and true, yet dangerously fragile.
Focus.
A part of him wanted to leap through the window and take to the air that second. This time, the excitement was particularly lingering. There was... something different about the nature of this last mission. He felt like he was on a wire, tense and unsure.
He drifted both wings in opposite directions, as far as they could go. His black and white tail feathers fanned out to their maximum breadth, and he pointed his long beak upward. He felt his toes tighten as he stood on one leg and flexed his other out behind him. He furrowed his brow as his balance faltered once again.
He had flown to countless villages, faced thousands of enemies, seen his friends in danger, and had nearly been killed plenty of times. But what he had experienced here in Gongmen City cast a dark web of unease over him. The bird recalled Lord Shen and his menacing, blood-red eyes. The peacock's conquest was over, but the effects of it lingered.
Crane became aware of the multitudes of shouting city-folk in the streets. He scowled as a rickshaw trundled noisily over a poorly maintained road. He shut his eyes tight and tried to block out the disturbances. The bird extended his lengthy neck up to complete the final pose, but was too distracted to account for the low ceiling.
"Ow!" he yelped as he bruised the tip of his beak on the heavy wood beams of the room. He stumbled backward and enclosed his nose in a feathery grip, hopping on one leg.
"I'm glad nobody saw that." he said under his breath, rubbing his beak with irritation.
Upon completing his meditation, Crane absently grabbed his hat from atop the pile of scrolls. In his haste he nearly missed the slip of paper that had been hidden under it. Curious, he leaned in to inspect the small, messy handwriting.
Crane, Shifu wants you to help me clean up the palace today. It's got a fancy name but I don't remember what it is. It's the one that got destroyed when we were still inside it. You know, where you hurt your wing? Anyway, See you there.
Below the note was the outline of a small claw.
Mantis. Great, he smirked sarcastically, relieved to be working with a member of his team again, no matter how obtuse.
The bird started for the door, then hesitated. He heard the muffled rabble of customers in the tavern below. Crane wasn't in the mood to be gawked at—he had had his fill of praise over the last few days. He glanced tentatively at the window in the wall, already anticipating the first flight of the day.
Crane debated whether he could even fit through the window. He took a few steps back, unfurled his wings a quarter of the way, and crouched low, keeping his beak parallel to the ground. He studied the window with skeptical eyes; it was a wing wide and equally tall. The amber sky and silken clouds on the other side beckoned him from the oppressiveness of the inn. Like a trained acrobat, he knew the series of moves that would free him through the tiny opening.
With a mighty leap—and an awkward grunt—he tucked his wings in tight and shot through the portal. He blasted his wings to their maximum extension and let the humid air lift him. With a few controlled flaps he rose above the tiled roofs of Gongmen City's western side. Height revealed the openness of the city, and he felt as if cold iron chains had fallen away from his mind. Eastward, the shimmering black sea captivated him as the ocean always had.
He spiraled lazily on a column of rising air, simply enjoying the sensation of flight. A light wind danced through the feathers of his breast, flicking them around as it pleased. Crane's sharp eyes perused the city blocks, which were hopelessly disorganized, but oddly pleasing to look at. Countless citizens dotted the streets. As he watched them, most of which were forever confined to the ground, he felt a sense of pride. During times of unease, it was comforting to remember that this was something that he was born to do. If he did indeed have a destiny, then flying was a big part of it.
Crane was startled out of his reprieve by a commotion in the street below. He focused on the slight changes in motion, and was alarmed to see citizens running in panic. Distant shouts met his ear and morphed into screams of fear and howls.
Wolves! he thought, suspecting a raid from the remnants of Lord Shen's wolf army.
Crane adjusted his wings to enter a dive, letting gravity do the work as he rushed to uncover the wolves location. Height was his best advantage in battle, and the narrow streets ensured that his attack would be a surprise. He flew just above the grey tiled rooftops, wondering why any wolves would try to attack the city again. His instinct was that the raiders would be aiming to hit fast and vanish without a confrontation.
As the old buildings whipped past, Crane scanned the streets with a practiced eye, alert for danger. Weariness forgotten, he barreled toward a tall, moss laden building that lie in the direction of the panicked shouts. At the junction between two streets, he saw a single dark wolf holding a petrified sheep aloft.
"The eyes! I saw them!" the wolf shouted at the sheep with terror. Fast as a squall, Crane dove toward the pair and sunk his talons into the sheep's wooly coat, dragging the citizen away from the scuffle. Crane set the sheep down in an alley, out of sight of the crazed wolf.
"Are you alright?" he questioned with a confident air. The sheep nodded, whimpering. Satisfied, Crane twirled and sprung out into the courtyard once again.
The city folk had given the wolf a wide berth, forming a rough circle around him as he ranted and groveled to and fro on the cobblestones. The wolf didn't seem to be attacking anyone—or doing anything in particular, really. With surprise no longer on his side, Crane ignored the onlookers and met the wolf at the opposite end of the circle. He raised his wings in a defiant challenge.
As Crane eyed the maniacal wolf from under the brim of his hat, he lowered his head. Master Shifu had once called his hat disadvantageous, but fighting without it was unthinkable. His hat was like a friend: steadfast and loyal. The bird focused on the wolf, using the straw disc to block out the growing sunlight that pushed through the mismatched buildings around them.
Crane pondered the probability of just one wolf attacking the city. It wasn't like them to engage alone. Then, the wolf met his stare with a deranged eye.
"It... it had yellow eyes!" the wolf trembled. Before Crane could assess the absurd statement, the terrified adversary lunged; Crane knew now that a hand-to-hand melee was inevitable. As the sooty mass of fur barreled in his direction, time stretched. Crane entered a familiar, peculiar state of calm. His mind expanded into his surroundings like a gust of mountain air. Everything around him became a factor for the coming conflict.
He saw the wolf: alone, unarmed, poorly armored, undisciplined... approaching. He saw the people arranged around them: helpless, vulnerable, undeniably important. His surroundings glowed and showed him all possible paths and hinderances. Carts in the street were cover; the walls of the buildings were springboards; that taller than average cobblestone? A tripping hazard. Every detail, no matter how trivial, mattered in battle. One slip, one ill-timed strike, could mean a broken wing, leg, or neck. Mistakes meant death.
Crane was still as the wolf neared. The reach of his wide wings was greatly superior to the weaponless wolf's, so he should be an easy dispatch. What the bird didn't anticipate was the flurry of paws and feet that the grey wolf unleashed. He had to inch backwards to dodge the incoming strikes. The frenzied attacks from the canine were unusually careless compared to most wolf soldiers—and just as easy to deflect.
Right. Left. Right. Backhand.
Crane redirected the wolf's sloppy blows, looking for an opening. He feinted right, causing the wolf to lunge and lose his balance. Crane planted his feet firmly on the stone and snapped a wing under the canine's weight bearing leg. The wolf yelped in surprise as he began to fall backwards. Crane continued the momentum of his first attack, spun completely around, and struck his clawed foot into the wolf's chest with a ferocious "Hah!"
The wolf was launched back three full wingspans before bouncing to a halt in front of a bushel of awestruck bunnies. Crane breathed heavily, strangely tired from the short exchange, and bounded for the motionless lump of a wolf.
"Everyone, stay back." he said to the relieved crowd. He tapped the wolf with a toe, eliciting a hollow groan.
"Are there any more wolves?"
"No," replied a black sheep.
"He came out of nowhere!" a diminutive bunny added. Whispers of the strange event swirled, and disconcertion held heavy in the thick air.
After clearing the area, Crane took to the sky to see if this was an isolated incident. Finding nothing else out of the ordinary, he scouted out a pair of ibex guards and led them to the site of the confrontation. Crane stood back and observed as the guards apprehended the wolf. The gruff figure moaned and began to stir when the guards placed irons on him.
The wolf growled weakly, "I saw them... yellow eyes..."
A half-lidded red eye peered morosely at Crane, who frowned.
What scared this wolf so badly? he wondered, off-put by the mysterious ramblings.
"Quit your yipping." one of the guards snapped. "It's off to Black Dragon Alley with you."
"Thank you, Master," the other guard expressed gratefully. "We value your continued protection."
The two loaded the distraught dog onto a rickshaw and departed. Crane watched as the creepy cavalcade rounded a bend, his body still humming with excitement.
Master Shifu should probably hear about this.
"That was awesome!" a young bunny peeped, tugging on his leg. He smiled nervously down at the little girl, nonetheless grateful for her appreciation.
"It was nothing, really. Anytime."
He glanced up again and became aware of the multitude of citizens still surrounding him in the shady street. Every eye was trained on him, wide with ardor and admiration. Even if Crane didn't care for the attention, it reaffirmed why he fought in the first place.
Whether he liked it or not, China was eternally divided into good and evil. That was the way of things. He had the power to help those who were powerless, so as long as evil existed, there would be no rest.
Wherever evil resided, he was needed.
A/N:
Thank you for honoring me by reading the first chapter in my story! Criticism and feedback are always welcome.
As this story takes place directly following Kung Fu Panda 2, a viewing of that film is the only requisite. Knowledge of the mainline Kung Fu Panda shorts and movies is recommended for the best experience. Legends of Awesomeness, Paws of Destiny, along with the video games and comics can all be safely ignored.
Accepted canon in this fic is limited to the mainline movies and shorts.