by Mark Swaine
Huang exits the main entrance to the castle and looks out into the wild storm from the sheltered porch. It was strangely warm in the dryness of the porch area, or maybe it was warm in comparison to the image of the cold shunting wind slogging the rain onto one side only ten feet ahead. With the bitter looking rain bound to the limits of the wide curved archway, he's suddenly distracted from taking another step as he hears anxious chirps and the rapid fluttering of wings. He looks into the corners and shadows of the porch and smiles before beckoning Kamui Li's multi-legged and winged spies from their hiding places. A dragonfly, a moth, a Praying Mantis and a Grasshopper, jump, flutter, scurry and hop onto to the security of the Emperor's forearm.
“Your Master's intentions are noble; you have followed me through many perils and adventures. Though you must not follow me this night my little guardians, lest you be caught in the dragon’s blaze,” says Yu-Huang kindly.
Yu-Huang sets the Grasshopper and Praying Mantis into a safe dry corner with a caring hand and smiles at the innocent wonder of the Moth and Dragonfly's flight as they settle on the stone ceiling. Yu-Huang fastens his cloak and raises his hood before leaving the warmth of the porch and begins the long journey to Liúmáng prison. Yu-Huang feels strong and he is ready for the journey ahead, but the second he exposes himself to the strong wind and battering rain, he is blown of balance and falls down the steps. Yu-Huang stops his continuous roll and rises unsteadily to his feet to carefully navigate the spacious steps to the rocky base below. Another stiff breeze knocks him sidewards and he falls with a splash into a muddy puddle. Rising to one knee, he looks at his hands powering with light before fading away. Yu-Huang's power dwindles, yet enough remains to turn a mortal's season long journey into a few hours while the wind remains strong. The journey across the open space of the moors is cold and the down pour of rain still slows his pace, and for a moment he is even tempted to cease his arduous voyage and travel by Bonsai portal. Yu-Huang refuses the easy way and pushes himself onwards up a steep path of rushing water. Yu-Huang feels weak and drained, and begins to wish that he had taken full advantage of the Priests earlier offering of food back at the gathering. Panting heavily, he urges his legs into broader strides as his face and chest pushes against the defiant rage of howling wind. And as blankets of drizzle sting his heated determined face, he finds his ability to move with the wind non existent. Yu-Huang grimaces tiredly, he is tired of chasing answers, tired of babysitting the immoral Brotherhood, tired of attending to the bidding of thousands, and already tired of walking, muses the demoralised Emperor.
“Is this what it means to be selfish?” says the Emperor. What is happening to me? he muses.
The Emperor stumbles to his knees and begins laughing in self stupidity as he feels a solid object hanging against his leg. Overjoyed, Yu-Huang unties the wooden spiralled staff from underneath his cloak, and gives thanks to its maker.
“My thanks, Dàshī Jiàng (Master Carpenter),” says Yu-Huang, still laughing.
The Emperor uses the cane to pull himself up and looks solemnly to the skies.
“Lu Ban I hope you are alive, alive and well. I hope all of you are well, for I have not the power to see,” says Yu-Huang ashamedly.
Yu-Huang, feeling as though he has let down his companions, feels a swell of energy from within. He raises his hand high above his head and his eyes flicker dimly as he concentrates on forming a slipstream of air for as long as it will carry him. Yu-Huang manages to harness enough power to manipulate the winds, and he is carried by it until he reaches the clearing of a steaming jungle dripping with moisture.
Yu-Huang wastes no time in entering the jungle, even in his weakened state, fending off the wildlife would not present a significant problem. So he wades his way through the overgrown trail that greets the perimeter of the ‘Yáchǐ de Cónglín (Jungle of Teeth)’, where the various species of deadly wildlife reign supreme over their lush kingdom of wilderness. The general rule for any wild lands where wild beasts roam is “stick to the path... and hope for the best”, for no man would especially dare enter this jungle alone and without a means to defend himself. But then that is why the Liumang prison is situated in its centre, for should any escapee attempt to flee the prison, there is only one place to go. Though breakouts are relatively non-existent, you do get the odd lunatic who believes they will be the only one to make it through the jungle and out the other side. It has been some time since Yu-Huang has paid a visit to the Liumang prison, and it wasn't long ago enough. Yu-Huang hates the prison; he can sense the hatred, spite and anger. He can feel the impact of all the wrong doings and wicked acts like a rush of blood through his head, and he can taste the bitterness of their thoughts like acid on his tongue. There are many underground abodes within the massive structures of the Huanghua city, why the Black Dragon felt the need to dwell in such a place, one can only guess.
Maybe the dragon knows how much he detests mingling among the inmates, thus reducing his visits, or maybe the dragon just felt better protected within the top-security prison. Protected from what, you might ask? Protected from his former mate who tore the wings of his back after consummating their partnership, as some of the more feral dragons are known to do. The Black Dragon fears his mate still roams the skies in search of him so that she can finish the job, and now the wingless dragon won't even step a single foot outside. Yu-Huang hears a heavy skittering noise and rustling foliage, and he looks at large webs forming wide nets with Bǐshǒu Mǎyǐ (Dagger Ants) and Hóng Huángfēng (Red Wasps) struggling to free themselves from the dew dangling lines of sticky silk. Undeterred, he looks at both sides of the winding trail, thick with beautiful, gigantic and toxic plants. Hazy clouds reveal the starlit sky filling the passing jagged voids between thick branches and swaying palm tree fronds as he proceeds cautiously deeper into the jungle. At least the jungle offers some protection from the heavy rainfall as slit Yellow eyes blink in the foreground while growls of warning duly inform the Emperor not to stray from the path. Yu-Huang hears faint protesting screams in the distance and the sound of munching and lavish chewing. During his travel he notices various body parts and apparel hanging from the trees in the jungle side. The path becomes strewn with body parts, a chewed hand here, a half-eaten dragon claw there, and then he realises the Liumang prison may also have come under attack. Yu-Huang urgently uses the wind once again to complete his journey and clear free of the shimmering emerald jungle. A few hours later he nears the clearing of the vine creeping trail and lets his hand go of the wind.
Yu-Huang approaches the overgrown rusty iron archway secured by a giant portcullis. Beyond the lattice bars Yu-Huang can make out the grey stone prison covered in moss and shrouded in mist rising from a massive circular trench surrounding it. The jagged ringed trench glows a deep orange and emits an intense heat that only grows stronger with each step he takes toward the large barred entry. Yu-Huang's muggy drenched clothes mat to his skin as sweat pours from his body and his face screws up as he struggles to breathe the hot air. The moss layered prison looks peaceful against the dark backdrop of night and the tranquil greenery of the jungle, but inside will be less than calm he muses. To his left, a twenty foot, bronze cast statue of a gorilla holds a gong with one hand, whilst gripping a large mullet hammer in the other. With great effort, Yu-Huang takes the mullet from the enormous hand, and with all of his might he swings the hammer against the massive circular plate of bronze.
Alerted to the deep metallic dongs, parrots scatter in flocks from the tree tops of the jungle and Yu-Huang allows each deep chime to end. The gate groans as it rises, accompanied by the sound of chains grinding and chinking as the heavy barred gate lifts from the ground. Yu-Huang walks under the gate and stands on the verge of the steaming precipice. He looks below at a river of molten lava circling nearly one hundred miles below the prison fortress. A flat rectangular slab of stone slides out from beneath the castle steps and extends to form a pathway to the portcullis on the jungle side. The rough grinding of stone halts befor
e Yu-Huang's feet as it impacts the edge with a solid thud. Yu-Huang crosses the wide rail-less bridge as winding flames leap with grilling winding gusto around the pathway of rock. The toothed pillar of rock holding the prison fortress stands as imposing as it always has, and the fifty foot high bronze cast doors atop the endless flight of stairs shimmer as they always do. Yu-Huang feels relieved as he sees the structure intact, and on the prison island he sees soldiers throwing piles of bodies over the edge by their arms and legs. The doors to the prison rumble open and four battalions of rugged unshaven Jade Soldiers line both sides of the steps in honour of their Emperor's presence. An enormous elderly man walks casually from the square entrance of the top-security prison and awaits the Emperor. The retired General garbed in a sleeveless, black and green leather tunic folds his arms expectantly and smiles at the visitor. The bushy blacked bearded warden with frizzy held back hair bows to his Emperor, and Yu-Huang smiles at his old guardian, still robust with massive arms and still bearing the chest plate holding the emblem of Chi.
“Do you not you ever age?” jokes the warden, robustly.
“Only with you in my presence... Master Nianzu Seto,” replies Yu-Huang, smiling.
Nianzu appears slightly concerned for the out of breath and sweat drenched Emperor as he draws closer.
“I was wrong, you do age,” muses Warden Seto with concern,
“You came under attack?” asks Yu-Huang,
“No, they did,” replies Warden Seto, “the jungle took care of the rest, let us talk inside,”
Warden Seto escorts his old charge into the lobby of the prison and commands the servants to bring water. Yu-Huang pours half the pig bladder of water over his head and gulps the rest with gusto to sate his arid throat and mouth.
“You should rest a while Master Yu-Huang,” says Seto.
Yu-Huang exasperates from the thirst-quenching sensation whilst smiling wryly at Warden Seto's suggestion, unsure whether to mistake it for a playful jibe at his knackered state. Yu-Huang fails to reply and simply looks around to familiarise himself with his surroundings. Nothing had changed, and the only notable difference from the jungle and the prison interior remains, barely visible patches of stone and bronze. The jungle had taken the prison long ago, and there was no taking it back now, regardless of how many vines they hacked and slashed. The foliage just keeps growing back, greater in density with each dividing vine. The many previous wardens of the prison eventually decided to use the unwelcome guests to their advantage, allowing the giant sturdy leaves to form tables and winding stairs. The sturdy lime steps provide access to higher walkways containing iron cell blocks.
The suspended cell blocks swing and clang against the adjacent corridors of metal and leathery miles of green. Yu-Huang looks at the caretakers of the prison as they mop lattice partitions with sticky nectar for the bird size Mosquito's buzzing about the strident open space of the prison. The constant sound of fluttered humming plays tricks on the ears and confuses the equilibrium of the mind as the massive winged bodies zip back and forth. But it doesn't take long for the winged carnivores to be drawn to the sugar scented partitions, and once they land they cannot take back to flight. To be bitten by one these mammoth sized bloodsuckers would almost be the equivalent of a blood transfusion, a concept one such former inmate had already taken advantage of. Still, the soldiers and inmates remained safe, for so long as the jaws of their second safe guard remain, the affectionately named Xue Xiànjǐng (Meat Traps). The Xue Xiànjǐng are so named after by the ill-fated prison guard who first discovered the pod-like plant, and was then devoured by it. The carnivorous Xue Xiànjǐng attract mosquitoes and other meat eaters with the sweet smell of blood from the digestive enzymes of their previous meal. Should one be lucky enough to survive the lacerations from its top and bottom three layered rows of razor sharp teeth lining its mouth, they would still endure a torturous day of been broken down by the acids it uses to digest its meal. These carnivorous plants use their vines to claim larger prey that are too wise for its crafty ruse. The fifteen-foot-tall meat-eaters can eat animals as large as bears and ox, and have claimed the lives of many a careless guard. Like the vines that rule the prison, the wardens over the centuries also put the Xue Xiànjǐng to good use by carefully uprooting them and placing them around the perimeter of the recreation yard to prevent the inmates from escaping. The Xue Xiànjǐng also secrete extremely potent nectar that sends the Mosquito into a feeding frenzy, and are drawn instantly to its scent. The caretakers, wearing special body armour, continue mopping the lattice walls whilst ducking occasionally as Mosquitoes splat onto its sticky surface. Warden Seto observes Yu-Huang's pained look as he listens to the screams and shouts of the inmates. The warden leads Yu-Huang to an outside terrace and kindly orders Yu-Huang to sit a while.
“How bad is it?” asks Warden Seto glumly,
Yu-Huang's failure to reply informs Warden Seto of the extent of the damage as he wipes a bloody Dao sword before returning it to a weapons rack.
“Why would raiders attack a prison? What possible riches, or people of worth do they expect to find?” asks Warden Seto.
“This was no ordinary attack, Warden. Tell me what happened here,” says Yu-Huang.
Warden Seto recounts the events of the attack well, relishing the idea of seeing combat once again.
“FIRE!” shouts Warden Seto.
Harpoons based on the prison roof impale dragons breathing fire upon them, but what the riders did not know, is they too are able to harness a great furnace. Soldiers wearing full suits of dragon scales wait by grids and time their attacks perfectly as they pull back the hatches. As towers of climbing fire impact the underbellies of passing dragons they veer off and crash into the jungle. Those who survive or land on the jungles edge fire ropes across and begin to climb across the fiery gap.
“RELEASE THE APES!” shouts Warden Seto.
Animal keepers guarding tall cages adjoining the prison communicate with baboons in their own tongue. The baboons scream wildly before strapping armour to their chests and fixing daggers to their hands. The guards crank levers opening hatches in the ground, and the caged baboons make their way through tunnels leading to the column's edge. As hatches open on the column's edge, soldiers provide cover for the baboons with arrow and spear. As the baboons make their way across the ropes, the raiders scream as they're met by teeth the size of their forearms. As savaged and mauled raiders begin falling off the ropes into the flaming chasm, the raiders on the other side cut the ropes and make for the jungle. But with the raiders so great in numbers, many across. The Jade soldiers meet the raiders in combat whilst others climb down to rescue the baboons falling from the severed ropes. Some of the monkeys jump onto the side of the cliff face, others are not so lucky. The Jade soldiers form chains to reach those out of reach, and they climb the links of bodies to the surface. Warden Seto charges at the raiders, engaging four or more in combat at a time. Monkeys use Jade shoulders as platforms to pounce on their enemies and sink their teeth into skulls and necks. With all the raiders dead, and with human and monkey deaths minimal, the soldiers roar with victory as the baboons jump up and down screeching wildly.
“Well done Warden, you fought well,” compliments Yu-Huang.
“What else is on your mind my boy?” asks Seto, sitting opposite the Emperor.
“Everything seems to be in order. Have there been any incidents?” replies Yu-Huang.
Normally Warden Seto would laugh off such a question, but this time he looks slightly discomfited as he walks to the corner of the terrace to approach a large, noisy iron box rattling crazily. The warden presses a button on the shuffling box and two doors open slowly with a long hiss to release a cloud of cold air. Seto takes out a large crystal bottle and pours Yu-Huang a tall tankard of honey juice and sets it down before him. Yu-Huang puts his hand around the frosty tankard and takes a long sip of the chilled and sweet honey juice before looking strangely at Warden Seto.
“He called it... The Cold Box,” says
the warden, exhaling in awe, and self-stupidity, “his offering of apology before he fled,”
“Who fled, a prisoner? A prisoner broke free of the prison?” exclaims Yu-Huang. “Foolish criminal, no doubt he met his fate in the jungle,”
“No Master Yu-Huang, this man... broke into the prison,” corrects the warden, “nearly two years ago,”
“This man returned to the prison? I do not understand: how did he survive the jungle?” asks Yu-Huang, clearly confused.
“He was not a prisoner; he is an inventor of some kind. When we caught him, he said he was on safari, studying various creatures for his designs. Once he cleared from the jungle... in his mechanical donkey, this... maniac.” chuckles warden Seto. “zip wired from the edge of the scorching abyss disguised as a Jade soldier to infiltrate the prison.”
“I know of this... inventor,” muses Yu-Huang, “but not his name,” says Yu-Huang.
“His name is Mǎkè Shīwěixián,” says warden Seto.
“Why did he infiltrate the prison?” asks Yu-Huang.
