The Girl with the Dragon Tongue, Chapter One

[lonewolfprincess]

The flight back across the Pacific was even quieter than the ride there. Even with the Crescent Fang headache finally cured, Dojo still felt an ache in his heart for the monks sitting or lying listlessly on his back, and for the girls they left behind.

“So uh… penny for your thoughts, kids?” Anything to break the deafening silence.

A round of sighs… and then a chorus of “this is all my fault...” causing everyone to double take.

Omi’s eyes bugged out at Kimiko. “You? But you did not do anything wrong!”

“I know, but I didn’t do anything right either! I could’ve… I dunno, done more to keep them out of the fight? Or picked a different rooftop, or something?”

“No, I was the one who was too slow to claim the Crescent Fang, and after you all entrusted it to me!”

Clay sighed, still flopped despondently on his stomach.

“No, I’m the only who literally bumped into Mia, I should’ve watched where I was doggoned going… Not to mention should’ve just brought the darned Fang up instead of showing off…” And… to be honest, between being a long while since he won a Showdown on his own, and getting a long look at how a tenure as leader could’ve gone… seeing that joy and wonder and confidence in her face and then have it shatter in an instant was just a stab to his already bruised heart. “I feel…” And then he trailed off with a moan…

“‘Lower than a snake’s belly?’” Kimiko offered… and then blinked that they all must really be off-balance if she was offering to help craft a Texas-ism.

Clay shook his head into Dojo’s scales; even that felt too good. “Try a mite on the snake’s belly. And the snake’s at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Oof… Cousin Jörmy might take offense to that,” Dojo quipped, trying to lighten the mood. “He’s sensitive, especially when he’s hangry. Which… is always. Guy tries to eat his own tail, for Pete’s sake…”

“Guys, guys!” Raimundo called out and held up his hands… and then sighed. “I’m the leader. All the responsibility goes to me, especially making sure they stayed out of it.” He groaned into his hand. “First mission as leader and this happens…”

Omi reached out and placed a hand on Raimundo’s shoulder.

“Raimundo… this is far from your worst mistake. You have made many worse ones in the past!”

Raimundo side-eyed him before faceplanting into Dojo’s scales with a groan, not sure whether the annoyance or the depression was winning.

Omi panicked, and slapped on a very hasty, fragile cheer. “I-I was going to say that I have also made mistakes! Many more than that, and with far worse consequences!” Here, maybe a count would help! “Losing the Showdown for the Heart of Jong, Chase Young tricking me into swearing loyalty to him, ruining the future, past, and present in my Wudai Quest—”

“Dude, dude.” Raimundo gently grabbed Omi’s shoulders. “First of all, thousandth time, you didn’t owe Chase Young diddly after he made you swear that. You were missing half of your being!” The Fire and Earth Dragons nodded firmly in response, and they could feel Dojo nod too. “If anyone ever tries to make you say or do something without your full consent again, you tell us, and we’ll kick their butts so hard they’ll never be able to sit down again.”

A round of murmurs of agreement from everyone, even as that kernel of doubt rested stubbornly in Omi’s mind.

“Second…” Raimundo’s grip on Omi’s shoulder softened even more. “What about that quest is still bothering you?”

Omi stared at Raimundo, then past him to Kimiko and Clay. Flashes of them wizened and feeble… blasted, torn apart, crushed—

Omi flinched and pulled away from Raimundo’s grasp. Dojo tensed as well, but… Omi had sworn him to secrecy. He couldn’t break that promise, not yet.

“My point is…” Omi took a small, shaky cleansing breath and looked up at Raimundo, eyes serious, sincere. “I have never known you to make a mistake you could not fix, Raimundo. Not once. And we will do whatever we can to help our new friends.”

Oh. That… actually meant a lot, especially with how long Omi had held onto the pain of Raimundo’s own, more willing betrayal to Wuya, how much it had hurt the little monk to have one of his first friends turn to the dark side. And… Omi had revealed much later, in secret, that perhaps he blamed himself for that too, letting him down and pushing him away when he needed support, a reason to stay. That Omi had such faith in him now, faith in hindsight…

Raimundo gave him a soft smile, and lifted a hand to gently pat his head. The other monks gently moved in closer, Clay even managing to sit upright.

“Thanks, bud…” Raimundo took a deep breath, letting his expression grow confident. “And you’re right; we’re not gonna stop until we find a way to get the Crescent Fang unbonded from Mia.”

Clay looked down into his hat at the dagger. “Hopefully we find one soon.” He turned his gaze to the dragon’s head. “Y’all said that the Fang and its owner can’t stay apart for long. How much time do we have?”

Dojo shook his head. “I… don’t know, probably not long.”

“What do you mean, ‘probably’?!” Raimundo yelled, incredulous.

“Look! Grandmaster Dashi was the Fang’s one and only user, it’s not like I could run a survey! And… and he had me hide that one close to last…”

At the end of his long, adventurous life, having saved the world from ten thousand years of darkness. But for such a young dragon, raised by the master since hatching… his first true experience with human mortality still stung after all this time.

The four monks softened, and they all reached down to pet the jade green scales.

“Hey, it’s alright, li’l buddy.” Clay smiled, even if was small and rueful. “We’ll just… ask Master Fung for help with a plan, and get the Fang back to her faster than a cat chasing a rabbit covered in catnip!” A pause… and then another depressed sigh. “If she even wants to see us…”

Dojo leaned into the touches, especially after Clay’s lament. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy to lose them, kiddo.”

“What makes you say that?”

Dojo let a mysterious smile grace his lips as he began his descent towards the earth. “Better explain it all at once. Now approaching the temple, please bring all chairs, tables, and martyr complexes to their upright and locked positions!”




Chase Young took a slow, deep breath… in, out… in, out…

A tiger pounced at him, and his bestial eyes snapped open. Rising block to deflect the claws, two punches to knock out the wind, a kick to send away. Lion to the side, take a paw, Repulse the Monkey into the panther on the right. Another panther behind, duck down under the pounce and kick away with both feet.

Again, and again, and again. Lions, tigers, panthers, humans, all attacking predictably, all easily countered, all so, so boring.

“Enough!” The onslaught stopped, and all of the warriors shifted to human form to bow to him properly. Chase sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s enough for today. Prepare a meal for me.”

The warriors all bowed again and scattered to the winds, either to the kitchens and dining room, or to their dens until summoned.

Wuya hovered up to him from the sidelines. “Looks like someone has a case of cabin fever. I told you, there was a very powerful Shen Gong Wu up for the taking—”

Chase Young slammed his fist against a pillar, spiderweb cracks streaking like lightning through the smooth marble.

“The Crescent Fang would be of even less use to me than most other Shen Gong Wu, and a weakness if the Xiaolin Warriors were to take it from me.” Chase pinched the bridge of his nose as a few of his warriors hastened to repair the damage. “I’ve told you before, this is just a malaise. It comes every century or so, I find something worthy of my interest, I get over it. And the Shen Gong Wu are not worthy of my interest…”

Then again… most malaises didn’t come on the heels of the timestream unraveling and re-weaving itself. Or plague him with echoes of a life he could have had if he hadn’t taken that stupid bean’s potion. A life, still achieving the power and immortality he’d craved in order to fend off Master Monk Guan’s evil, even if the journey was longer, more grueling. A life filled with humble meals that didn’t taste like ash and rot if not paired with Lao Mang Long soup. A life woven with the laughter and praise and pride of many, many students- the inability to grant them immortality making their accomplishments more bitter, but richer for it- culminating in taking in the Xiaolin Dragons themselves. Kimiko finding her focus with the Tangled Web Comb, Clay rising to the rank of leader, Raimundo taking the reins and saving the timeline… Omi training against him, seeking his praise, choosing to be by his side.

Chase growled again, banishing the memories-that-weren’t, feelings that should have died and stayed dead with that first sip of soup.

“This argument tires me. Either cease your whining, or go crawling back to Spicer, hag.”

“But Chase—”

Wuya’s argument was cut off by the sound of a caw, high and raspy, echoing throughout the cavern temple.

The bird shifted into a Viking scout, dropping to one knee at Chase’s feet. The Prince of Darkness sighed.

“Let me guess, one of the Dragons has claimed the Crescent Fang?” What a twist… Why did he bother keeping his spies out in the world?

The scout shook his head.

“Oh, no…” Chase facepalmed. “Please tell me it’s not Spicer…” As if the little worm wasn’t half-addicted to the Monkey Staff already.

Another shake of the head, and with the telepathy that the bond of servitude granted him, told his master with just a long look.

Chase Young’s eyebrows flew up.

“Really?” An evil grin actually flew over his features, his first since that battle weeks ago. “Interesting, indeed. Well done, Kolfinn.” A beat… and then he shook his head, chastising himself for using his minion’s name, forcing his voice to turn cold. “You’re dismissed.”

The unspoken exchange certainly caught Wuya’s attention, and she floated up to Chase’s side.

“What is it?”

Chase summoned his seeing orb, and with a wave of his hand, the cloudy eye focused on two girls: one round with dark copper hair and bright clothes, the other tall and lean and clad in denim, both walking in the night with troubled expressions.

“Oh goody, more teenagers…” Wuya rolled her eyes. “Even if one of them does have the Crescent Fang, I hardly see anything ‘interesting’ about them.”

“Appearances can be deceiving.” Chase actually let a smug singsong enter his voice as he flicked his wrist, and an earlier image flashed into view.

Wuya gasped. “No. They can’t be…!”

Chase Young smirked at her. “It appears we have two new pieces on the board, Wuya.” A sickle-sharp grin spread over his face, eyes glowing ferally. “And I intend to claim them…!”