Oogway's Little Owl - Chapter 28

[Forgotten Shrine]

“Test 113, Temporal Reversion, commencing.”

Queen Administrator smashed the brick into five pieces, cracks radiating from the center of mass. Smaller castoff detritus was noted and determined negligible.

It reached inside itself for the esoteric energy that Ally: Sloth referred to as Chi. Every time it reached for it, the process became easier.

Pulling a quantity of Chi out, Queen Administrator shaped it into a ring like the Fox had done, and pushed it towards the shattered brick.

The ring splashed against the brick in the same way a smoke ring would, and at first nothing happened. Queen Administrator waited, however, and after 4.7 seconds moss began to grow rapidly over the brick, producing tiny yellow flowers and a faint blue bioluminescence.

This marked the twenty-second instance of spontaneous plant growth, the seventh instance of this particular flowering moss, and an entirely new result in the glow. Other results had included spontaneous transmutation to iron, transmutation to steel, transmutation to a curious luminescent white stone that Queen had set aside for later examination, transmutation to jade, and in one instance, a hideous but delicious slab of living meat from an unidentifiable animal.

On only three occasions had it successfully achieved the intended result of reversing the destruction of the brick, none of them consecutive.

It didn’t make sense. It had repeated the experiment more than a hundred times, and while some outcomes seemed more likely than others there was no pattern it could discern. It had tried clearing its mind of all thoughts, thinking hard about the concept of repair, and focusing on something completely irrelevant, and it seemed to have no effect on proceedings. There was no logic; why was the experiment not repeatable?

This was not Queen Administrator’s only experiment. It had also attempted Stasis, Spontaneous Rotation, and Vacuum Generation, among others, and all had produced similar lack of results. Hundreds of experiments, and it was no closer to unraveling the mysteries of this energy than when it had started. The only thing she could get to work with regularity was Light Source, and that was just because the energy in its raw form glowed no matter what she did to it!

She was getting so frustrated. She was beginning to entertain the idea that Chi simply didn’t follow logical rules, but she didn’t like that idea. The universe was a place ordained by mathematics and physics. Everything had rules that they followed, she just needed to figure out what they were.

A human under these circumstances would, perhaps, consider stepping away from the project and clearing their head, in the hopes of approaching it from a new perspective later. Queen Administrator was not human, and didn’t understand the concept of ‘leisure,’ but she recognized the need to focus on something else.

The insects outside her research area perplexed her. They superficially resembled the insect species native to the Host Dimension, but investigation had determined that they also resembled them on the inside, too. This was confusing, as the majority of species were intelligent on par with humans. With mammals and birds and other vertebrates, this could be achieved with a simple increased density of neurological tissue, but the insects of this world, even with the densest brain matter Queen Shaper could devise, their brains should have been too small to allow for sapience.

It was a mystery, and her attempts to map out their various nervous systems were ongoing. Some of the larger species actually did have the centralized brains of their mammalian counterparts, but most did not. It confounded, astounded, confused, and amused.

Especially amusing was the insects’ behavior. Her passive probing was evidently felt by their primitive minds, and induced a semi-lucid state that compelled them to seek her out. The exact reason why escaped her, but it was useful to have lab assistants and test subjects. They were able to fetch food for her while she worked, allowing her to keep up her research without stopping.

Usually, anyway. The swarms she sent to fetch food had apparently encountered trouble. Those peaches were delicious, but several were bruised. The horned beetle who spoke to her sometimes had tried to explain the failure, but Queen Administrator hadn’t really listened. She’d merely sent out another swarm, who had been more successful and returned with much rice and bamboo.

She didn’t care for the bamboo shoots and allowed the insects to have it, as well as the remaining rice after she had her fill.

Eating was a mixed blessing. She was enjoying the sensation and the flavor that came with having to eat food, but having to eat was a chore she could do without. It wasted so much time that could have been spent on research. The rice in particular had been good while she was eating… but then she had had the misfortune of discovering what it felt like to eat too much. Queen Administrator had seriously believed she was going to explode for a few minutes.

…She wondered if there was any left. She was hungry again.

Queen Administrator  walked outside of her research area into the sun and looked out over the horde. Immediately, the buzzing noise she had been tuning out dimmed as every eye turned to face her. If she had been a normal creature, she might have found it unnerving, but as it was it meant nothing to her.

The horned beetle who spoke to her sometimes stepped forward, bowing. “My Queen!”

“Is there food?”

The beetle’s face fell. And that was another thing, the flexibility of their exoskeletons. She needed to see what their muscle systems looked like to allow such a range of expression; some of them didn’t even have mandibles.

“My Queen, it is eaten.” He grunted, wincing in pain. “There are many of us, and we also need to eat--” He winced again, and his expression cleared.

“Mm.” Annoying. She would have to send out yet another swarm, and that would take a while. She wanted to eat now. She gave the beetle an appraising look. She was a spider, wasn’t she? Spiders were supposed to eat other bugs.

The beetle swallowed, as if sensing her thoughts. Maybe he did, through the connection she was using to keep track of everyone. “It is nothing, my Queen, we will procure more food at once!”

She supposed if she started eating her assistants, she would run out of them eventually. Then she’d have to go get her own water instead of making them get it, and that could be annoying. She waved her assent and turned back to her space.

Maybe she was going about this wrong. Maybe the Chi would work if she adjusted her thinking. What had it been like to be Chi, before she achieved her current form? She had been able to move around despite lacking a form of locomotion simply by… remembering how she moved as a Shard. Perhaps that was the key?

This required more tests.

And so she returned to her experiments, dismissing the buzz of the swarm as it took off for another poor village’s crops.

-------------------------------

[Nagasaki Port]

There were only a few ports in Japan that allowed in foreign vessels, and even fewer that let outsiders actually leave the harbor; times were tense, warlords were paranoid, and no one wanted to run the risk of a rival appealing to an outside power for aid. Oogway and Tailei might not have been allowed out of the city even in spite of the tortoise’s reputation if Eiko hadn’t been waiting to escort them.

Of course, when a significant percentage of the population can fly, there’s only so much you can do to keep people out without resorting to unreasonable measures, and so no one attempted to stop Crane as he came in for a landing.

He started dipping as soon as the docks came into view and crashed onto the wooden pier in a heap of feathers and legs.

“Ugh…” Crane groaned into the wood, muffled slightly by his hat. “This was a terrible idea. How did you convince me to do this?”

“It was your idea, actually,” Mantis pointed out, digging himself out from where he’d been nestled in Crane’s feathers. “And look at the bright side! We’re here! Trip’s over!”

“Hooray…”

“And you’ll only have to fly that trip one more time on the way back.”

Crane groaned louder.

“Ahoy, there!”

Crane rolled over, knocking his hat off so he could look up. A pelican in captain’s garb strode toward them, pipe in one hand.

“You look like you’ve taken a turn there, friend,” the pelican observed. “I hope you took a rest on the shore before making the trip over the sea, there.”

“Oh, yeah, that would have made way more sense,” Mantis said cheerfully. “We should do that next time.”

Crane grumbled and climbed to unsteady feet. “Hello, sir, yes, I will definitely take your advice.” He took a breath to steady himself. “What are the odds that we’d find someone who can speak Chinese right away?”

“Mm, better than some, I’d say,” the pelican said, staring at Mantis for some reason. “I make the voyage between our countries pretty frequently. Normally I’d already be back on the sea, but I’m still trying to figure out how much of my brother’s treasure is mine and how much needs to be returned to its owners. He’s a pirate, see,” he explained at their confused looks.

Mantis and Crane exchanged a look. “And, what are the odds a tortoise and an owl were involved in capturing him?” Mantis asked.

The pelican brightened considerably. “Oho, are you with Oogway and them? Why didn’t you say so?” He doffed his hat and offered a wing to shake. “Name’s Yori. I was the one who ferried them across the way.”

Crane extended a wing, only to scowl as Mantis crawled across it to shake Yori’s instead. “Pleasure to meet you, Yori!”

The pelican was still staring at the bug. “You two plan on staying in Japan long?”

“Ugh, we were just going to deliver Tailei’s care package and then return home, but,” Crane rolled his shoulders with a grimace. “I might need a couple days of rest before flying that distance again.”

“Understandable.” Yori rubbed his beak thoughtfully. “Well… hopefully it’ll be fine if you’re not here too long.”

Mantis tilted his head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Never you mind,” Yori said, waving them off. “I tried to fly across the sea myself once. Couldn’t make it. Had to land in the water halfway and nearly got ate by a shark in my sleep. So, good on you for making it,” he finished casually, not acknowledging the Masters’ incredulous look. “At any rate, you must be hungry. Let me treat you to a meal before I direct you to the Temple, aye?”

“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Crane said.

Mantis raised a limb. “I would.” Crane shook him off his wing.

Yori snorted. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve managed to get some of Yiro’s treasure so far, and a flight like that deserves a reward. C’mon.”

Without further conversation, Yori turned on his heel and sauntered away, giving Crane and Mantis no real choice but to follow.

As they passed off the docks and into the town proper, Crane became aware of eyes on them. That wasn’t exactly unexpected, though the volume was surprising. Especially when he realized that the people weren’t staring at him, but the passenger on his hat.

“Huh. You’d think they never saw a crane before,” Mantis noted. “Wait, have they? Do they have cranes in Japan?”

“Aye, we do,” Yori said simply, waving a wing at a pair of passersby who were, in fact, cranes.

“I don’t think it’s me they’re staring at, buddy,” Crane said quietly.

Mantis frowned, opening his mouth to say what he thought of that, only to hesitate and look away.

“Hey, you okay?” Crane asked with a frown. “You never have nothing to say.”

“...Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

Yori led them to a tavern and held the door open for them, and Crane set aside his concerns for the moment. The prospect of a warm meal and a place to sit down was very attractive right now.

----------------------------

[Yōsai Village]

Taylor fingered the flute nervously, licked her beak, and blew. The soft notes of Ode to Joy drifted across the street, but nothing else notable happened.

Eiko clapped politely. “Very pretty, but not there yet.”

“I’m aware,” Taylor grumbled. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I know what I want to happen, I’m moving my chi like you showed me, and I’m as in-tune as a flute can get. Something should be happening.”

The fox’s tails flicked back and forth in a metronome motion. “It’s not easy, Tailei. You know it’s not easy, otherwise everyone would be a chi master.”

“I know that,” Taylor said, annoyed. “But what’s the point of hearing these things if I can’t use it?” She sighed. “Let me try again.”

For the fourth time that afternoon, Taylor reached inside herself. She heard the Music at all times, but when she focused, she could narrow the song. Every person had their own tune surrounding them, which Taylor recognized as their chi, when she turned her ears inward, her own song surrounded her, loud enough to drown out everything else. A melancholy melody, a thrumming bass, flute in harmony, and underneath it all was a steadily thumping drum. It was the drum she focused on, tapping her feathers to the beat as it synchronized with her heartbeat. She pulled the chi out and up, and then it danced around her feathertips.

That was the easy part. Getting the chi to move how she wanted was harder. But she tried anyway, and with a mental image of pushing the light through her flute, she played, thinking thoughts of peace and the tranquility of early dawn.

Eiko watched closely, ears twitching as she played. “You know, Oogway helped me become a master of chi, but he wasn’t the one to start me on that path,” she said as the music faded once more.

Taylor sighed over another failure. “Yeah?”

Standing up, Eiko brushed some dirt off her kimono and took a stance. “Mm. I went to the Jade Palace to learn how to fight, but I had a teacher in the mystic ways before that.” Her fingers glowed, and she drew a circle in the air. “She was a painter, and she told me that the entire world was her canvas, and her chi an inkwell that never ran dry.” Another circle, smaller, resting on top of the first like a snowman. “She was able to use her chakra to paint brushstrokes onto the world. Her favorite trick was turning her brush into a blade sharper than any sword. With one stroke she could cut boulders in half.”

A triangle this time, each point touching the first circle’s perimeter. That done, Eiko turned the entire structure parallel to the ground, and a dense fog poured out that took the shape of trees and flowers and mountains in miniature. 

Taylor watched, amazed, until Eiko clapped her hands together, and the force of it blew the fog away.

Taylor sniffed as the fog blew over her. “Ooh, pine needles.”

The fos snorted, amused. “It took me a while to find my own method. I settled on a more abstract form of art, mostly as a foundation for more complex illusions.” Eiko smiled. “Oogway does something similar; I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet, but when he does big showy stuff with his chi he likes to focus it through calligraphy and symbols.” She tilted her head. “I never met him, but I believe Wukong used his body as a focus, contorting his limbs and fingers into strange shapes.”

Tailei looked down at her flute, then back up at her. “What does that mean for me?”

“Why don’t you hazard a guess?”

“It sounds like you’re saying that everyone has to figure out their own way of doing things, but I already knew that,” Taylor complained. “That’s why I’m trying to use music.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Eiko said gently. “The important thing to know is this: the only rules to harnessing chi are the ones you bring with you. Oogway uses kanji because he prefers to use his words when he can. I use shapes because I,” she hesitated, “I value appearances perhaps more than I should, and I think it looks flashy. My teacher painted because she viewed the world as an art piece.”

Taylor absorbed that with a frown, thinking deeply. She listened to the music of the world, and thought about what mattered to her. Who was Taylor Hebert, right here, right now? Did she have something to hold onto the way Eiko’s old teacher did?

The answer came faster than she expected.

“The world is a story, still being told,” she murmured to herself.

“Have you figured something out?” Eiko asked.

Taylor answered by playing a song.

Instead of pulling her chi out of its place inside her, she listened, felt its flow, and played along. Music can tell a story as well as any words. All she had to do was play, and let the story be told.

Without paying attention, Taylor’s feet started moving on their own. She stepped off the stooop where they’d been practicing and strode out into the street. And the music swelled.

A wind chime rang out in time with the beat. The villagers of the Yōsai clan stopped what they were doing and listened. People with jaded eyes and hardened faces softened as the simple flute became something larger than itself, until the Music almost seemed not to need to be played to be heard anymore.

Then just as soon as it began, it fell back to normality. The weight carried by the music lightened again, and Taylor played the last few notes that echoed on the wind.

Yōsai Village hung frozen for several seconds after the song ended. The trance lifted slowly as the shinobi and their families remembered where they were.

A smattering of applause broke out, snapping Taylor herself back to reality. She looked around confusedly, then saw the handful of men and women trying to hide tears and realized what happened. “I did it?”

“You sure did. Congrats.” Eiko sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Taylor pretended not to notice. “Tailei, let me ask you something.”

“Okay.”

Eiko sat down on the porch. “What are you doing this for?”

Taylor blinked as if struck. “What?” A rock landed by her feet.

“Why are you here?,” Eiko repeated. “Are you after training for a reason, like I was? Going to become a master and then go home to save the day in the big bad city?”

Suddenly, she became aware of some dirt on the side of her flute, and Taylor focused on trying to clean it off with a wing. “Hm.”

Eiko sat back, watching her, waiting for an answer. Taylor looked up, saw the fox’s calm stare, and looked back down again.

“Brockton has plenty of heroes already,” she said instead.

“You’d know better than me,” Eiko agreed. “But the handful of things you’ve said about your hometown paints a bleak picture. A dangerous place, you said. Not many friendly faces. Do you think those ‘heroes’ are doing a good enough job?”

“The place is still standing,” Taylor said, a touch annoyed. “Armsmaster is one of the best heroes on the east coast, and Miss Militia used to inspire me when I was little.”

Eiko raised an eyebrow.

“Besides, I’d be just one person,” Taylor continued, turning away completely. “What kind of a difference can I make?”

“I don’t know,” Eiko said. “What difference can you make here? With Jorogumo? Or the missing insects? What kind of difference will all your training make?” She smirked just a little. “Tell me, Storyteller. What can one person do in the right place, at the right time?”

Anything, Taylor didn’t say. She fidgeted. “...I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “I… haven’t been thinking of home much since I ended up here.”

Eiko stood and walked to stand next to her.

“I guess I’ve just been assuming there wasn’t a way to go home, so why worry about it?” Taylor’s beak clacked as she tried to bite a lip she didn’t have. “...There’s a lot of pain back home.”

“Just for you? Or for other people too?” Taylor didn’t answer, and Eiko didn’t wait for her to. Instead she just patted her on the shoulder. “As for getting home--you had to get to the Palace in the first place, didn’t you?”

The owl nodded slowly. “I--that’s true. I-I don’t know.”

“Well maybe you can make set that as a goal for yourself,” Eiko suggested. “You want to master chi. Why? So you can go home.”

“I don’t know,” she said again. She found herself staring at another house’s porch. The second step up was broken, and she looked away. Another rock sailed past, just barely missing her.

Eiko shrugged. “If you truly didn’t have a reason to go back,” she said, “you wouldn’t be hesitating this much over an answer.”

Taylor thought about that. Really, actually thought about it. She didn’t have to think too hard for one particular reason to rise up from the depths of her mind. One person she left behind in particular.

“...” She nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I think--eep!”

Taylor had to duck as another rock sailed into the space her beak had just been. Okibo loomed overhead, accompanied by Tsume.

“Look at all this training you’re not doing!” the bear boomed. “I guess your magic act is over for now, and you know what that means!”

“Okibo, we were talking about something import--” Taylor began, only to cut off as Tsume appeared behind her, claws digging into her shoulders.

“If you have time to talk,” Tsume said, “no you don’t. Because that’s time wasted. Back to work!”

“Tsume--Okibo--get off--hey, my flute!”

Okibo pulled the instrument out of her wings and waggled it tauntingly. “You want it back? You’ve got to take it back, hatchling!”

Taylor’s eye twitched. “I just remembered something else about Brockton, something I’d like to collect catharsis on.”

Okibo’s smirk slipped. “What’s that supposed to mean--ohcrap!” the bear yelped as Taylor dived at him with talons extended.

Tsume beamed happily. “Yes! That’s the spirit! Okibo, pass it to me!” The bear threw it gladly, and Tsume’s expression shifted to worry when the owl’s focus landed on her instead. “Oh, hm, actually--!”

Taylor screeched a war cry.

---

Eiko sighed, faintly amused, and walked away to do some of her own stretches. Her junior was going to be busy for a while, it looked like.

So, the place Tailei came from had its own heroes, hm? That was interesting to know. These heroes had strange names; more like titles, really. It didn’t sound like they were very good at their jobs. Either that, or they had a demon problem that made Jorogumo or Orochi look tame. What must the poor owlet have gone through there, Eiko wondered, for her to be so scared of going home?

Still, interrupted or not, progress had been made. Eiko needed to tell Oogway, he’d be pleased to hear of his student’s success, assuming he didn’t hear the song earlier himself.

She sighed, listening to the beautiful sound of two shinobi getting attacked by a bird of prey, and wondered what her old teacher would think of her now, teaching a student of her own. 

--------------------------------------

[Temple of Inari]

Crane was worried.

Mantis usually ate more than he did at the tavern; he typically took the same serving sizes as the rest of the Five, despite his size. Crane didn’t know where he put it. He also usually couldn’t stop talking and making joke and making that obnoxious laugh of his. On the flight over here, Crane would admit, Mantis’s constant yammering helped him keep focus and not fall asleep as he grew more exhausted.

Mantis wasn’t very talkative today, and barely ate the insect-sized portions the restaurant served him. He didn’t even complain about the size. It was even more unnerving than the way everyone was staring at him.

“You’d best hurry to the Temple, boys,” Yori had said. “Ye don’t have as much time as I hoped.”

He refused to explain further than that, insisting that the Guardian would be able to tell him. Yori gave him directions and away they went.

Crane was worried enough that he almost considered flying, despite the ache in his wings; Mantis didn’t act like this.

“Hey, you doing alright there, buddy?”

Mantis shuffled on his hat.

“I said, you doing--”

“What? Yeah, yeah.”

Crane frowned. “Ok--”

“I’m fine. Yeah.”

“...Okay.” Crane adjusted his hat so he could just about see Mantis’s claws hanging off the edge. “You’re awfully quiet there, buddy.”

“...”

“...”

“...I guess.”

“It’s a little--”

“I just don’t have anything to say.”

“--weird, is all,” Crane finished, lamely. He swallowed.

They arrived at the Temple mercifully quickly; Crane might have started jogging at some point, since it wasn’t his legs that were sore. The grounds were nice enough to briefly distract him; in particular the giant cherry tree out front caught his attention.

Crane walked up to the tree. A few pink petals drifted down, and Mantis sneezed as one passed between his antennae.

“More guests,” a smooth voice said cheerfully. “My, aren’t we popular this month.”

Crane walked around the tree and found a woman about his height in a hooded robe, painting at an easel. “Ah, hello ma’am.”

“Polite, too. I wonder what they’re here for?” the painter asked, not looking at them.

Crane stepped over to look at her canvas. She was painting a scene of a ruined shrine, with odd black streaks placed at random intervals.

“That’s, er, very nice.”

“It isn’t finished yet,” she said, turning her head slightly to address him directly. She washed out her brush and swapped to a bright pink paint, which she applied to the peak of the shrine.

Crane nodded quickly. “Yes, of course not, but it’s still nice--look, sorry, have you seen Master Oogway? Or Tay--I mean, Tailei?”

“The tortoise and owl aren’t here right now,” the painter said. “Would you like to leave a message?”

“What?” Crane huffed. “What about this Guardian I was told about?”

“She’s not here either.” The painter finished with the pink and swapped to a yellow, dabbing a small spot on top of a brown bird that Crane hadn’t noticed before. He stopped and looked again, because she’d used the pink to make a giant spider at the top of the shrine.

“Why is it pink?”

“Because that’s the color it is.”

Crane looked at the ground and took a breath. “Okay, so: we came over to deliver a gift to our friend, the owl, but since we got here Mantis has been acting weird--”

“You’re a lot like the Custodian, aren’t you?” Mantis said suddenly, cutting him off. “You make art and hang around the place but hardly talk to anyone.”

“I talk quite easily, in fact, and not to just anyone,” the painter said, amused. She set her brush down and gave them her full attention. “You poor dear, you’ve got quite the worm in your brain.”

“He what?!” Crane asked, alarmed.

The painter gave his beak a light smack. “Not literally, you big doofus. One moment please.”

“One moment for what--”

The painter pulled her hood down, revealing herself to be a white wolf. Before Crane could properly react to that, she tossed her head back and howled. The sheer strength of her lungs actually pushed Crane a few steps back, and knocked Mantis off his hat altogether.

Once she was finished, she pulled her hood back up and resumed painting, this time with white.

Crane waited for his ears to stop ringing, then asked, “What was that for?”

A second, distant howl rose up in answer to the first, approaching rapidly. Crane turned just as the owner of the smaller voice arrived, walking into the cherry tree’s space. The small dog entered with a serene expression, taking in the visiting masters with barely a pause.

“You called, madam?”

“Your master will want to see these two, Minoru. The bug especially.” She hummed, and began to paint a yellow circle.

“Bug?” Minoru tilted his head, looking at Crane again, then down to where Mantis lay sprawled still. “My word.”

“He’s acting up,” Crane said apologetically, picking his friend up and replacing him on his head. “I swear he’s not normally like this.”

“I believe you.” Minoru approached with his arms folded behind his back. “You must be Masters Mantis and Crane. That is how the Jade Palace names its students, yes?”

“How could you tell we were--”

“You feel like Oogway and Tailei did,” the dog answered. He narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, Master Mantis: where are you going?”

“Going?” Crane asked. “We’re not going anywhere. Not until we know where Tailei is, anyway--”

“North,” Mantis said, turning his head not-quite-north. “I need to go north.”

“What? Why?”

“I see,” Minoru murmured. “Yes, Madam Hare, I do believe you’re right. Master Eiko will want to see them immediately.”

“Hare?” Crane turned his head to the wolf. “What? She’s a wolf. Isn’t she?”

“Oh dear, it seems the spell didn’t take all the way,” the painter tutted.

“Spell?!” Crane sagged. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

Mantis absently patted his friend on the head, only half-listening to the conversation. The other half was currently being used by something else.

He still had enough of himself to appraise the painter’s finished work, though. The big white bird framed the top corner nicely, but the little green bug on its back could have been bigger. You could barely tell it was a Mantis.