Shrouded Path: Doorway Cycle Vol. 1
By Aron White
This book is for my wife, Ming
Copyright 2011 by Aron White
Published by Morning Paradise Press
Cover Image Copyright by Annnmei, Dreamstime.com
Check out Aron's website for more stories at http://www.aronwhite.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This book is a work of fiction. All names and places are fictional or used in a purely fictitious manner.
Table of Contents
Prologue: “We’ll all be dead…”
“He is honest in words, effective in action, faithful in keeping promises, fearless in offering his own life to free the righteous from bondage.” -- Sima Qian (145 – 90 B.C.)
Prologue: “We’ll all be dead...”
“These nighttime patrols give me the creeps.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Take a look around. Don’t you feel a bit spooked?” As he spoke, the Imperial guard glanced at his partner then focused again on the abandoned houses and storefronts surrounding them. The sky above was cloudless and the full moon cast a faint, pale glow across everything the eye saw.
For a moment, the Imperial guard imagined the empty city quarter as it was years ago with crowded streets and the sounds of daily life as people traded, ate, talked, and went about their business. Now there was nothing, but crumbling buildings, the sounds of the past long gone. His partner’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“You’re right, it is a bit unsettling. Although, I don’t know about you, but I have a family to feed, so I do what they pay me to do and keep the peace. This is an easy assignment. Nobody cares about this quarter of Kunming anymore. All we have to do is walk our patrol every night and report in at morning which works for me. The less trouble the better.”
“It’s a complete waste of manpower. There are more important parts of the city, but they assign us here.”
“We may not be here much longer from what I understand. The new governor is supposedly reducing nighttime patrols. Also, did you hear about the city gates?”
“Not yet, why?”
“The governor has ordered the main gates of the city to be left open at night. There are still guards on duty, but the gates themselves are not to be closed.
“Absolute madness! That leaves us dangerously vulnerable! The new governor must have his head unscrewed!”
“I don’t care, honestly. It’s not my problem and is out of both our hands.”
“Just keep saying that, my friend. Some day you may regret your apathy.”
“I won’t hold my breath. You’re always…”
“What was that?” The first Imperial guard interrupted his partner as he whirled around to look behind them, his hand wrapped around the handle of his sword. His eyes scanned up and down the street, trying to discern shapes or movement from the darkness, but found nothing. He jumped a bit as the second Imperial guard placed a trembling hand on his shoulder and whispered.
“What is it? What do you see?”
The first Imperial guard raised his own hand to silence his partner then put it back on the sword as he continued to search the streets and buildings. He thought he’d heard footsteps, but couldn’t be sure. His ears perked up, trying to find them again, but there was nothing. After awhile his hand left the sword and he turned to face his partner again.
“It’s probably nothing. Let’s keep going.”
“You really are spooked aren’t you?”
“Let’s move a bit faster. The sooner we get back to headquarters the better.”
“I can’t disagree with that.”
The two Imperial guards quickened pace, reaching the end of the block and turning a corner, disappearing from sight.
Without warning, a heavy gust of wind tore through the street, shaking the old buildings at their foundations. Halfway down the block an old wooden door burst open, smashing itself to pieces against the wall, leaving the remnant chunks of still-attached boards to swing back and forth, slapping the wall again, then swinging back towards the open doorway.
After a few seconds the wind vanished, disappearing as quickly as it came. Silence pervaded the street again and a shadow in the shape of a man emerged from a small alley tucked in between two buildings and made its way down the street in great haste without making a sound. It moved across several blocks, finally reaching the entrance of a particular abandoned house and glanced around before opening the door and slipping inside.
The house’s interior was gutted, leaving bare floors and walls. Darkness dominated the main hall except for streaks of moonlight pouring in through a set of window slots in a nearby room. As the shadow moved across the room, a pair of hands reached up and removed a hood, revealing a middle-aged man, his features obscured by the lack of light. A whisper caught his ear and he stopped, a smile spreading across his lips. The man replied to the whisper in kind with a hushed tone, speaking in a cryptic Chinese dialect known to only a chosen few and after a moment observed a dark figure appear before him.
“My friend, everything is arranged,” the middle-aged man said.
“Very good, we must move quickly,” the dark figure responded.
“Agreed. I will be leaving tomorrow.”
“What about your…”
“He will be taken care of as we discussed. Remember what you promised.”
“I remember. Everything is set then.” After speaking, the dark figure moved forward and the two embraced.
“Good luck, my friend,” the dark figure said. “If it does not succeed, we’ll all be dead.”
“You never know,” the middle-aged man replied. “We may be dead already.”
1: Why Father, Why?
“Surrender, maggot, and we might not kill you.”
“I may be seven years old, but I’ll still whip your hides!” Jun Quan flashed a defiant grin as he spoke, staring at one of his adversaries, a gruff bandit with a pockmarked face and teeth missing from his sneering mouth.
“You talk tough, shorty. Let’s see what you’re made of,” the bandit growled.
Jun glanced back and forth, watching the five other bandits. They had formed a tight circle around him, some armed with clubs, others with swords. His fingers tightened around the sword at his side and he watched their positions and stance, knowing at any moment they would strike, each taking their turn to fight him as fools would instead of rushing him as a group, making it harder to fight them all at once. He smiled. This would be like clockwork.
Jun whirled around as one of the bandits attacked from behind. Their blades clashed and within three moves he disarmed the bandit, knocking him out with a quick blow to the head. Another one moved in and was defeated with the same ease. The rest of the group continued to attack until each of them lay unconscious on the ground, leaving Jun and the gruff bandit to stare at each other.
“Not bad for a little maggot, am I?” Jun chuckled as the bandit’s face turned red.
“We’ll see!” The gruff bandit swung his club through the air and charged. At the right moment, Jun sidestepped and stuck his foot out, tripping his foe, causing him to fly forwards, the club colliding with his face as he crashed to the ground and was knocked out cold.
“That’ll teach you!” Jun said and laughed. While stepping away, he tripped on a small rock in the grass and fell backwards, hitting his head on the ground. Jun’s skull stung with pain as he sat up and looked around. The six bandits were gone along with his sword, now just a tree stick that had snapped in two.
Grunting, Jun pushed himself off the ground and stood up, his mind trying to return to his fantasy world. He broke into a series of sloppy poses and poorly executed moves, swinging his arms and legs around with great ferocity as he tried to imitate the legendary speed and agility of the Jianghu, or kung fu world, the underground community of martial artists throughout China made up of heroes, villains, and those somewhere in between who roamed the vast countryside fighting for good or evil.
Jun sighed, for he’d never met someone from Jianghu and worried he never would. The stories told by the local farmers made these warriors sound far and remote and no more real than a fairly tale or fable.
He kept swinging and kicking until his arms and legs grew tired and exhaustion set in. Jun stopped and looked around. The sun had disappeared behind a dark, cloudy sky and the wind was now picking up, swaying the trees around him, their faded red and yellow leaves rustling in the air.
“Jun Quan! Jun Quan!”
Jun turned towards the voice coming from somewhere in the woods.
“I’m here, father!” he called out.
After a few moments, Jun felt a hand fall upon his shoulder. Startled, he turned to find his father, Tian Quan, standing behind him. His face was aged with many lines, but his height, standing over six feet tall, and limber body frame made most think twice about calling him old. His long black hair, tinted with streaks of gray, was tied back behind the shoulders and ran down his back towards the hips.
“Pretending to be a kung fu master again?” His father’s tone was stern and contained a hint of mockery. Jun lowered his head as Tian Quan stood silent, his hand still resting on Jun’s shoulder, an oddity considering the man would usually roll his eyes and scold his son for such foolish ideas, but at this moment did not.
“Come with me, Jun. We must be quick!”
“Why?”
“You will see.”
The two of them hurried through the forest as the wind picked up more speed, pushing them along until they entered a field of tall, faded, yellow grass. Across the field, Jun could see their home, a small dwelling made of wood. The walls were a discolored gray and the roof was covered with red tiles, curving upwards on all four sides.
“What’s going on?” Jun asked as they entered.
“No time to explain now,” Tian Quan replied. “We must be quick! I’ve packed your things already.”
“What? Are we going somewhere?”
His father stopped and looked at him, his eyes staring through Jun rather than at him.
“Yes, we are.”
Tian Quan grabbed two bundles and Jun followed as they left the interior and made their way around to the back where a horse and small wagon waited. Tian Quan threw the bundles into the wagon, grabbed his son, and lifted him up onto the driver’s seat. He then climbed up and sat down beside him. His hands grabbed and cracked the reins. The wagon began to move and Tian Quan steered the horse on to a dirt path nearby. Jun turned around and watched as their home disappeared into the distance.
“Father, where are we going?”
“I can’t tell you right now, Jun.” Tian Quan cracked the reins again and the horse galloped faster. The wind grew in intensity, blowing against them now as rain began to trickle from the darkened sky. Jun frowned and a shiver ran through his body.
“Are we going to the city, Kunming?” Jun asked.
“No,” his father answered. “We are not going there at all.”
Jun frowned and wished they could. Over the past three years they’d lived in their little home on the outskirts of Kunming, the capital city of the southwestern Chinese province of Yunnan. It was 1564 A.D., the twenty-forth year during the reign of Zhu Houcong, the eleventh emperor of the Ming Dynasty.
Before their little home, they’d lived in a much larger one in Kunming where his father had worked. Although Jun was too young to remember much, he still had bits and pieces of memories from this period. His mother had died during childbirth, leaving his father to care for him. Jun always puzzled though over why they’d moved from the city to a small farm in the countryside. He suspected his father’s work had something to do with it and asked many times what he had done for a living, but never received an answered.
As Jun turned away from his father, he spotted several men on horses, mere dots off in the distance, fast approaching their wagon.
“Father, who are they?”
“Who?”
“Those men on horses riding towards us.” As he spoke, Jun pointed with his finger and his father’s gaze followed, coming to rest on the dots.
“Crap!” Tian Quan muttered. He glanced around and looked down at the wagon bed behind them. “Jun, quick, hide in the bed.”
“But, I…”
“Do as I tell you, now!” Tian Quan’s grabbed Jun by the collar of his jacket and gave him a violent shove, causing Jun to fall backwards, crashing into the wagon. Jun felt the wind knocked out of his lungs and struggled to regain his breath.
“Ow, that hur…”
“Keep quiet, Jun.”
“But, father…”
“Shut up!” his father whispered. Jun, his hand now rubbing his chest, felt his breath begin to return and opened his mouth again to speak, but stopped as he heard the sound of horses galloping towards their wagon. In an instant, Jun was a model of obedience as he grabbed a folded canvas, flung it open, and pulled it over himself, huddling up against the bed beneath his father’s seat. The horses drew closer until the noise finally stopped. For a long moment, there was silence and Jun strained his ears, waiting for someone to speak. One of the horsemen broke the tension.
“Tian Quan, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us.”
Jun’s father’s response was steady and nonchalant.
“I’m sorry, gentleman, but I’m not available today.”
The horseman, who had spoken before, snorted.
“You don’t have a choice. The governor, Xiong Ba, would like to see you immediately. You are to accompany us.”
“And if I don’t?” Tian Quan replied.
“There’s no choice in this matter. The governor demands your presence and that of your son as well.”
“Like myself, my son is not available today.”
“Don’t make me have to do this the hard way, Tian Quan.”
“I’m not making you do anything.” Tian Quan sat silent for a moment before a chuckle began to emanate from deep in his throat, growing into a bout of full-fledged laughter.
“What? What is this foolery of yours?” the guard asked, his tone mixed with both annoyance and curiosity. Tian Quan placed a hand over his mouth and it took a few seconds for his laughter to settle down before he could speak again.
“I just couldn’t help thinking about the time you’re wasting,” he said, “chasing after me, after my son, after a fairy tale.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” the guard replied.
“Of course you do. It’s the Red Doorway. Your master has deluded himself into thinking it is real. Let me save you both some time and offer my assurance that it is purely legend and nothing more.”
“Then you will have no problem coming with us to assure the governor of your beliefs.”
Tian Quan’s laughter disappeared altogether, leaving silence.
From his hiding place in the wagon bed, Jun slowly shifted positions and raised the canvas just enough to peer out between a small crack in the boards. The three horsemen were Imperial guards, servants of the emperor in Beijing, but directly accountable in this province to the governor, Xiong Ba.
Two of the guards sat quietly on horses, their hands resting on sheathed swords. The third guard, now talking with his father, had stopped his horse closer to the wagon. He held the horse’s reins in one hand while the other rested upon his leg, fingers, tapping up and down. Tian Quan sat in the wagon directly above Jun and out of his line of sight.
The guard closest to them stared for a long while at what Jun assumed was his father, dismounted from his horse, and began to walk towards the wagon, his hand now resting on his sword. He spoke again, any trace of pleasantness now gone from his voice.
“Where is your son, Tian Quan?”
“Why would I tell you?” Tian Quan’s tone of confidence did not waver. The guard eyed the wagon bed as he continued to walk.
“Don’t make me ask again.”
“I won’t require you to.”
The guard stopped next to the passenger side of the wagon seat, several feet away from Jun’s father. Jun had now lost sight of the guard and had to rely on his ears.
“I’ll bet I know where he is. He’s hiding right here in the…”
Jun heard a loud “whack” followed by the sound of a body falling to the ground. Forgetting he was supposed to be hiding, Jun threw off the canvas and peered over the edge of the wagon. His eyes shot wide open. The guard that had stood next to them was now lying motionless on the ground near one of the wheels. In the blink of an eye, Jun’s father somersaulted off the seat and did a quick spin through the air, landing feet first on the ground just as the other two guards’ horses charged towards him.
Moving as if he were in the prime of youth, Tian Quan hurled his body forward through the air again and grabbed one of the mounted guards off his horse, pulling him to the ground. He struck his opponent squarely across the face, yanked the sword from his hands, and threw it through the air, striking the other mounted guard in the chest, causing him to fall from his galloping horse and crash to the ground.
Jun could not believe what he’d witnessed in the space of five seconds. His father, the one for whom all Jun’s life had spurned the Jianghu and its warriors, the one who warned Jun never to mention kung fu or to even attempt to try it, appeared to be a practitioner himself. A wave of confusion surged through Jun followed by anger and he found himself feeling his father was a hypocrite.
Tian Quan turned his back on the scene of battle, walked towards the wagon, climbed up into the seat, and cracked the reins. Their horse, which had remained surprisingly calm during the whole ordeal, began to move and they sped along as if nothing happened. From the bed, Jun looked up at his father, oblivious to his son’s presence. Trying to maintain his balance in the moving wagon, Jun stood up and climbed back over the seat, taking his place again next to his father.
*
Anger coursed through Jun’s veins for the rest of the day and into the night. He paid no mind to the crackling fire his father lit as they sat across from each other on the ground, sheltered by a small grouping of trees. Beyond, the surrounding forest stretched for miles in each direction, the canopy above blinding out most of the moonlight, save for a few rays that managed to pierce through every now and then, providing a faint glow to the trees.
The two of them had not spoken since the incident with the three Imperial guards and Jun eyed his father, who seemed content to ignore him, his eyes closed as if he were off in another world. Jun was puzzled. His father was normally a serious man, but always agreeable at the same time. Now he appeared cold and distant like an eagle perched high on a rooftop, far away and inaccessible. Jun felt his body growing tired and coupled together with his anger, could no longer contain himself.
“What’s going on, father? Why are we running away?”
His father sat silent as before, unmoving, and did not open his eyes.
“Father!” Jun yelled. “Stop ignoring me!”
“I’m listening, Jun.” Tian Quan’s tone was as a cool and nonchalant as when he’d spoken to the Imperial guard earlier.
“I don’t want you to listen, father. I want you to answer me. What is going on?”
Tian Quan pursed his lips and let out a muffled sigh, but said nothing. Jun balled his hands into fists and struck the ground with them. His eye caught a rock about the size of his fist. He picked it up, stood up, and hurled the rock with all his might into the flames, striking one of the logs, causing part of the fire to collapse inwards, shooting sparks up into the air.
“Forget this and forget you.” Jun turned away from his father and stormed off into the woods. After he’d put some distance between himself and the campfire, Jun closed his eyes and took in the sounds around him, listening to the chirping crickets in particular. He felt his emotions begin to calm as he let his mind wander free, trying to clear his thoughts.
After a few minutes, Jun tilted his head to one side, straining his ears. At first, he could only make out the sounds from the trees around him, but off in the distance he began to hear another sound, like a repetitive thumping, just barely audible. As he continued to listen, he realized the thumping was growing louder. Jun opened his eyes and ducked down just in time to avoid being seen as a group of men on horseback rode within several yards of the place he’d been standing. It took Jun a moment to realize they were Imperial guards like the ones he’d see today.
Jun gasped as a hand wrapped itself around his throat and another covered his mouth. He tried to scream, but couldn’t. The pair of hands spun him around to face his father. As Jun’s face lit up with recognition, Tian Quan removed his hands from his son and put an index finger across his lips in a silencing motion, gesturing for Jun to follow. The fire was already extinguished as they came back to the camp. Without a word, Jun’s father picked him up and set him in the wagon, then climbed up next to him on the seat. He cracked the reins and they were on the move again.
*
Over the next several days they traveled in their wagon through the forest, stopping only to eat and sleep. Although they barely saw the sky, they could continually hear rumbling thunder off in the distance along with the sound of rain pounding on the canopy above.
One afternoon, Jun woke from a nap, his head resting against his father’s shoulder, and realized he’d lost count of the number of days since they’d left home. Several times he’d tried to talk with his father, but was given the cold shoulder with each attempt.
Later that evening, Jun nodded off again. He dreamed about his fight with the bandits, only this time his kung fu was real, not imaginary. Jun found himself smiling as he woke up. He yawned and looked around. It was nighttime and the sky was pitch-black with rain pouring in buckets. The forest had disappeared and an ancient temple loomed in front of them, consisting of three main buildings, two square-shaped and one like a hexagon, all identical in style with white-painted walls, faded and decayed, but not decrepit. Their roofs were made of red brick tiles which curved upwards. Each building had a raised set of red doors with a staircase leading up to it. Behind the buildings, Jun also spotted more structures. He looked at his father and saw tears in the man’s eyes and his heart began to thump. At last, the dirt path led them to the front steps of the temple and Tian Quan pulled the reins, stopping the wagon.
“Get out,” he said.
“What?” Jun turned to stare at his father. Tian Quan got out of the wagon and walked around it until he stood next to Jun’s seat. He had Jun’s bundle in his hand and dropped it on to the muddy ground.
“You heard me. I said get out!”
“Why should I?” Jun put his hands on his hips and pouted his lips. Without another word, Tian Quan raised his arm and slapped Jun across the face. Jun’s jaw stung with pain as he rubbed it with his hand, his eyes gaping at his father.
“How could you?” he muttered.
Tian Quan ignored him as he reached up, grabbed Jun’s torso with both hands, lifted him out of the wagon, and set him down on the ground.
“This is your new home. You will be staying here from now on.”
Jun’s mouth hung open. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Tian Quan said nothing more as he trudged back towards the wagon, got back into the driver’s seat, and cracked the reins. As the wagon began to move, everything finally hit and Jun realized what was happening. He broke into a sprint, splashing through muddy puddles, chasing after the wagon.
“Father! Please don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me!” Jun screamed at the top of his lungs as tears poured from his eyes. He quickened his pace and stretched out his arms, his fingertips brushing against the back of the wagon. His eyes were fixed on his father, who didn’t even turn once to look back. “Father! Please don’t,” Jun tripped in one of the puddles and came crashing to the ground, face first. Pain seared through his body as he sat up. He was covered in mud. Jun rubbed his eyes and looked off into the distance. His father was gone. Lightning streaked across the sky followed by thunder, but Jun ignored all of it as he sat there in the mud, crying his heart out.
*
9 Years Later
Jun woke to find himself seated upright in bed, his skin drenched with sweat and his body shaking. He opened his eyes and glanced around. There was no one else in the room which contained only a bed and window. Outside, rain poured from the sky, drumming against the ceiling. Jun sat still for a moment, thinking about his dream, then lay back down in bed with his eyes wide open. He balled his hands into fists and held them tight against his chest until they began to shake so hard that his ribs grew sore.
After a long while, Jun jerked his body upright into a sitting position again and began to pound his fists against the wall over and over until the skin from his knuckles was torn open and bits of blood and flesh were smeared against the white paint. He stopped after some time with his eyes too blurred from tears to see anything and wrapped his arms around himself. His head fell against the pillow and he lay there for a while, huddled in the fetal position. When his tears dried and his arms and legs began to hurt, Jun got out of bed and pulled on a simple brown robe.
As the rain continued to pour outside, Jun walked down a long hallway. In the darkness he could see the faint outline of doorways leading to other rooms beyond and passed them without a second glance. Although he couldn't see it, Jun heard a mouse scurry in front of his path.
He reached the end of the long hallway, walked out the entranceway, and down a flight of steps until his feet touched the muddy ground. Jun continued to walk until he stood about ten feet from the temple entrance, the rain drenching his robe. He looked down towards the ground, imagining the sunken hole in the earth from nine years ago where he’d tripped and fell. Looking up, Jun stared into the darkness. The sound of the wagon as it sped off into the distance still echoed in his ears. He spoke, his voice a whisper.
“Why father, why?”
2: A New Path
Jun’s eyes darted left and right as he walked past rows and rows of trees, each more than fifty feet tall. He stopped, held his breath, and strained his ears, but heard nothing except the whisper of a slight breeze in the nighttime air of the darkened forest.
He strained his ears further, searching for sounds. After nine years of practice, Jun was now able to pick up tones inaudible to the average listener. He heard silent footsteps all around him, scrambling in all directions. Smiling, Jun spun around as an attacker landed on the ground beside him. He fended off a barrage of kicks and punches and in the blink of an eye his opponent was gone, vanishing into the surrounding trees.
Jun broke into a sprint, maneuvering his way through the woods. He could hear the sound of footsteps in pursuit. Jun darted behind a tree, held his breath, and looked around again. There was nothing, but complete silence. As he stood there, a dense fog moved in through the trees and Jun let it envelop him.
After a moment, a whistle caught his ear and he broke into a spin, moving in a complete circle around the tree, returning to his original starting place. Jun eyed the trunk. More than one hundred needle-tipped darts had pierced the bark, tracing the complete circle he had just made. He looked down at his plain, black cloak. There was a small hole in his left sleeve. “A little too close,” he thought.
Jun jumped into the air just in time for his feet to avoid being hit by a wooden staff. He landed a few yards away, rolled, and stood up to face two dark assailants obscured by the fog around them. He could make out a staff in each of their hands. The two dark figures assaulted him with a series of attacks, swinging their weapons in every direction, always finding Jun one step ahead, dodging, twisting, jumping, and rolling on the ground to avoid them.
Several times, the staffs came close to hitting him, but he managed to dodge out of the way. As he moved, Jun saw his moment and grabbed the end of one staff, spinning around as he did. This jerked the object out of the owner’s hands and Jun ended his spin, staff in hand, swinging it towards the other attacker, finding nothing except thin air. Jun swung around to find the first attacker gone as well. He was alone again.
He stood still and closed his eyes, straining his ears again. He could hear the faint footsteps approaching, pair after pair. He opened his eyes and saw one dark figure after another emerge like specters from the fog. There were six of them. They formed a tight circle around him, some wielding bows, others with swords. Jun glanced around. They weren’t going to attack one by one. They were going to rush him all at once. He smiled as and waited.
In the blink of an eye, the dark figures charged in upon Jun, their weapons swinging towards him. Summoning his strength, Jun jumped high into the air and spun over their heads, landing outside the circle and disappearing into the trees. The dark figures dispersed in all directions, looking for him.
“Divide and conquer,” Jun thought. Instead of trying to fight six at once, it was much simpler to split up the group and fight one at a time. Without making a sound, he weaved through the trees until he snuck up behind one of the dark figures, which spun around and tried to strike Jun with a staff. Jun darted around his opponent until he found an opening. He used a kick to knock the staff from his enemy’s hands and kicked his feet out from underneath him. The figure smashed into the ground, unmoving.
As Jun turned around he was attacked by three more dark figures, one with another staff and the other two with swords. Jun spun around, rolled across the ground and dodged every which way, avoiding the assortment of thrusts, swings, punches, and kicks directed towards him. Glancing around, he realized he had to act fast. The others were hurrying over to join in the fight and could potentially overwhelm him.
As he fought, Jun moved into position and at the right moment dropped to the ground, spinning around as he did, while also sticking out his left leg. He connected with his targets, knocking all three dark figures off their feet. Jun jumped up and disappeared into the woods again. Through the misty fog, he could hear the footsteps as the last two searched for him. Jun had his back firmly against a tree and was one with it until a few seconds later when one of the dark figures passed by and Jun swung his arm around, cracking him across the head. The dark figure collapsed to the ground.
“One left,” Jun observed. He continued to stand against the tree, listening for the faintest sound, but heard nothing. The fog began to clear and he could now see through the woods, spotting the five dark figures he had already defeated, lying on the ground in various locations, but Jun was at a loss for the sixth one. “Where are you?” he wondered.
A lesson his master once taught him came to mind. “When you can’t find an adversary around or beneath you, try looking up.” Jun looked up into the tree branches above just in time to see the sixth dark figure come pouncing down upon him. Jun pushed away from the trunk, avoiding a kick to the head. This dark figure moved faster than the others and Jun had no time to escape. He dodged back and forth avoiding punches and kicks, but found the dark figure moved as quickly as he did, avoiding Jun’s attacks as well.
For several minutes, the two of them moved around, neither one being able to strike the other. Finally, Jun spotted an opening in the dark figure’s stance and swung his left arm, but was surprised as the dark figure’s left arm went up as well. Their two appendages struck each other, connecting on the bone just above the wrist. Jun felt an intense jolt of pain spring through his body. They stood still, each pushing against the other with no movement. Jun exerted all his force, but could not move the dark figure’s arm. He could feel the dark figure attempting to do the same with no success. For a long moment, the two of them stood still, neither giving ground until finally, the dark figure spoke, his tone warm and jubilant.
“Never have I had a finer student. You are ready at last, Jun.”