Requiem IV: Death's Door the Final Hour
by Bonnie Eagan & Alisa Joaquin
Part 4: A Village Destroyed
The walled village was in ruins. Several of the buildings were nothing but smoldering piles of charcoal while others were covered with ashes and soot. All that remained intact was the temple, just as he had seen it. It appeared that no one was left alive. It reminded him of his home, and yet this was so much worse. It was one thing to destroy a temple, but a whole village was inconceivable. This was not the work of one man, but many. Bullet holes riddled the landscape. Throats were slashed. Pools of blood were everywhere, some still wet and sticky while others were dried to a dark rusty brown, almost the color of the stones. One question remained to be answered, why.
Peter Caine walked through the streets, listening to the silence. This had been a thriving village when he was here. Now it was a village for the dead. His heart was torn in two when he saw the children, the hope of the future, not only for the village but for the temple as well. The voice of Master Po came to him, reminding him that while one Shaolin survived, the temple survived. Master Po was a guiding spirit in his family. During his retraining, he had the pleasure of going back in time through meditation and meeting his great-grandfather's favorite sifu. During that time, even though he finished his training, he chose not to take the brands. Now the brands were his, and right now Peter wished he did not have them for the sake of his senses.
As he drew closer to the temple, images assaulted him, images of the brutality that had been done. Peter knew he would have to gaze upon the faces of the monks to know they were truly dead, and it would be his duty to perform the final ritual not only on each of the monks, but on every person who died in this village. Their souls will not be able to return to the source of all things until the one who did this was brought to justice. He did not know if he had the strength to endure what was to come.
Peter stood outside the scarred temple doors. Fire had ravaged the place just as it had in his temple home, but the fire wasn't meant to destroy this temple. It was used as a means of entry. Peter entered the sacred great hall. Molten wax mingled with the blood of the dead monks on the floor and steps. Light poured from openings in the ceiling casting an eerie glow. When he arrived at this place it was night. Something was odd in the way the monks looked, until he took a closer view. Every monk's body was not only slashed with hundreds of cuts, but their heads had been severed from their bodies. Peter could no longer hold in the revulsion, and he began vomiting. Who would do such desecration? When Peter finally recovered, he walked through the halls to view the rest of the temple.
Oddly enough, everything else was intact. Because no one from the outside world knew of this place, aside from Shaolin, not a single item had been looted. A flash of memory had him walking down a long corridor ending up at the library. The library of scrolls was completely intact, until Peter took a second look. Something appeared out of place. The break in the pattern was there. The scroll that Master Po had kept for so long was missing. There was something about that scroll that caused a dread to fill Peter to his very core.
Peter remembered there had been one other student who wasn't like the others, including himself. Around his neck he wore what appeared to be an unusual green crystal. Peter had caught a glimpse of it during their moments of training together. He had sought power and angered the Singh Wa. They had sought the Da Chon, the Death Stone. It was a powerful green stone, made of the purest jade, but no one knew how it was formed. The larger stone had a companion stone to empower the one with abilities much like a Shambhala Master. It was the smaller companion stone that the student had worn. How the student got ahold of both was unknown, but Peter remembered destroying both stones.
He remembered afterward, his father telling him there had been a hidden scroll about the Da Chon and how it was made. Peter remembered his father telling him how the tube was marked so, if necessary, it could be found if it was needed. It was the decision of the Ancient and him to leave the scroll in the hands of the monks, among the other scrolls so it would appear like all the rest. There were hundreds of scrolls, how could that one scroll be found among so many, and since the stones had been destroyed, it seemed there was no need to reveal that the scroll existed. The scroll, however, was missing.
Chills ran down Peter as he surmised the reason why the monks were killed, then he thought of his father and all of Shambhala. The person responsible wanted every Shaolin dead. More than ever, Peter knew what he would be up against. At the time he destroyed the stones, Peter had not taken the brands, the stone had not affected him. Now, he wasn't so sure.
Before leaving the library Peter sought out one more scroll. He had not performed this ritual before but saw his father do it for an old man who had lost a deadly game of Pai Gow. He had only seen the outward signs but did not know what his father had said in the ear of the old man. Upon finding the scroll and reading its contents, Peter went to the room where the robes would have been made. He found yards of saffron and white cloth in bundles as well as robes either being repaired or newly made. He walked over to the white cloth and began ripping off strips of the material. He realized he would not be able to do this for every person in this village and temple, but he would do it for every monk that he could find. A few he had seen were lying among the dead outside. Those he would move into the temple. Then he would begin the work.
Continues with Part 5