Chapter 4: How it all Began
79 2 7
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.
Short chapter, but I'm planning to go back and edit things to be a bit more nicely paced, which should increase the word count by a decent amount.

  “Elder Lang, the inscriptions are complete,” said a young man with a short bow. He was dressed in a white robe that extended down his entire body, covering even his head and feet.

  The quiet forest clearing was empty no more. The leafy canopy, as it rustled in the wind, covered the outer ring of the oblong dirt space with the soft embrace of its shade. The air carried the sweet smell of fresh flowers, and the soothing sound of a nearby stream. It was a scene of natural tranquility, a once-in-ten-thousand-years beauty. Which made it all the more perfect to perform an act most profane.

  The man he was talking to, dressed similarly except for a wide blue stripe running down the center of his clothes, merely turned his eyes towards the young man. With as much effort as the wind took to blow a soft breeze, Elder Lang moved his hand to the young man’s cheek and back before he could blink.

  “Aah! This inner disciple has insulted you, Fan Lin begs your forgiveness,” wailed the young man, fighting all his instincts to grab at his face and instead fell to his knees to kowtow before the elder.

  “You refer to yourself by your full name, yet you refer to me with only my surname. Am I only half a man to you?”

  “No, Elder Lang Tao. You are far greater than a man!”

  “Mmh,” sighed the elder, dropping his hood. Despite the title, he looked no older than thirty, with long, jet black hair that reached to his shoulder and a taught, slender face. “Enough groveling. We have a ritual to conduct.”

  The other robed figures collected in a circle around the inscriptions painted into the hard dirt floor. They stared at the strange letters the size of their heads, painted in rare materials from gold speckled paint to mercury with crushed jade, all written in a lost tongue they had not even known existed. How Elder Lang Tao found that faded scroll in the labyrinth that was the sect’s ancient records, nobody knew. But what they did know was that the timing was more than opportune.

  “Begin the ritual!” the elder shouted, holding his hands out and pushing his chi into the center. While the others pushed with all their might to release a steady trickle, their leader simply guided the path of his energies, and they flowed out of his body like a flooding river. “Amateurs,” he whispered.

  Light began to shine in the center of the ring as the runes surrounding it started to glow. Before long, the light was utterly blinding, forcing all present to avert their eyes.

  “Don’t stop! Keep pushing, the ritual is almost complete!” shouted the elder.

  His words plucked a chord of fear within the hearts of his disciples, and they followed along without another thought.

  A final blast of air stripped the surrounding branches of their leaves and the disciples of their hoods. The ritual was complete. Elder Lang Tao stared at the center of the clearing with avaricious eyes. It worked, they finally had their hero… and a straggler.

 


 

  “What the hell, Daniel?!”

  “But mom, I didn’t even do anything there!”

  “You went to a party without telling me, and got in the car with a drunk driver.”

  “But I didn’t even drink anything!”

  “That’s not the point,” sighed Lucia Martinez, closing her eyes and placing an open palm to her head. “If you’d called, I would’ve picked you up. You shouldn’t have risked your life like that.”

  “If I’d called, you would’ve gotten mad at me for going anyway,” pouted Daniel as he averted his eyes.

  The two stood in the kitchen of their small apartment, Lucia still waving around the kitchen knife she was using just a moment ago. Whirring from the overhead fan was all that could be heard through the sudden somber silence between the two.

  “Daniel,” said Lucia, leaning over until their faces were barely a few inches apart. “Would you rather I be a little upset with you, or you be dead? That was the choice you just made, and don’t tell me I’m that scary.”

  “You’re being that scary right now.”

  “Scarier than I would be if you’d just called.” Lucia lightly planted her lips on her son’s forehead. “But you’re still grounded for a month.”

  “What?!” screamed Daniel, taking a step back and violently rubbing at the spot of the kiss. “That’s bullshit!”

  “It would’ve only been a weekend if you’d just called me,” Lucia shrugged.

  “Dad wouldn’t ground me!”

  “That’s because ‘dad’ would’ve been the drunk driver,” said Lucia, her face beginning to grow dark. “That is, if he hadn’t changed schools the moment he found out he’d gotten me pregnant.”

  Daniel whispered the second half of his mother’s sentence in perfect sync. “Seriously, can’t you just marry someone cool already? Someone who’d pick me up without grounding me?”

  “Mijo, I’ll be marrying someone who would ground you for that stunt. Now go to your room and do your homework. I’ll give you your laptop after I’ve turned on the parental controls. I don’t need you ranting to your friends about me on fork-knife.”

  “It’s not even called that. I hate you, mom.”

  “It’s ok, I still love you. Even though you could do to be smarter.”

  “Well I’m sorry I wasn’t the kid you wanted.”

  “You are the kid I want, but you can be better.”

  “By being a different kid? Sorry I can’t undo being born,” grumbled Daniel as he shuffled off to his room with a series of exaggerated stomps.

  “God, teenagers…”

 


 

  That was all Lucia remembered before being engulfed by a bright, white light. Pure nothingness now surrounded her, she was sure she was dead. Somehow sent to limbo or some terrible void for the sinful life she’d lived, at least if her old pastor was to be believed. God, she hoped that asshole wasn’t actually right.

  A sweet, soft breeze caressed Lucia’s cheek. Existence asserted itself, and like a newborn baby out of the womb, she forced her eyes open. Lucia fought against overwhelming exhaustion as she tried to make out her surroundings. She was in a forest, surrounded by a group of robed figures. One of them, rippling with muscles underneath his loose gown, walked past her and bent over. He picked something up and began walking back with the others. He was carrying Daniel. He was carrying her son!

  Lucia’s fight against her limbs to lift her up only exhausted her further, and brought the song of sleep ever closer.

  “This is a victory for the White Crane sect!” exclaimed the man at the head of the congregation, their apparent leader. “This boy shall bring us much glory at the next tournament!”

  “What about the woman, Elder Lang Tao?” asked another man, one with a bruising cheek.

  “The old hag? She isn’t of any use to us, leave her.”

  The young man bowed and the group made their exit down a nearby dirt path.

  “No, Daniel…” was all Lucia could say before her eyes closed and sleep took her.

7