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Stripes and Scales - Chapter I: "The Street and the Pool"

It takes three men to make a Tiger. Who, or what, can make a Dragon?

By Eric WolfPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 13 min read
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Stripes and Scales - Chapter I: "The Street and the Pool"
Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Long before she had been old enough to grasp the concept, she had heard the adults speak, in whispers, about the beasts. They whispered, as their parents and their parents before them, had once shouted, because the years had worn them down, left them able to do little more than raise their crops and their children, debate and plan their communities, and always, prepare themselves for war against their enemies, be they human or reptilian. What fabulous enemies they made, these legends of the air and the water and the very bowels of their Kingdom-earth, how magnificent!

Such a sentiment, she knew, was discouraged by the adults in her village. They would note the accomplishments of their most illustrious sons with the expression, "One hopes he will become a dragon, some day," it would be foolish to presume they meant for this to happen in the flesh! Dragons were like the wildest winds or sea-currents, like the fiery ash of a volcano: much admired, from a safe distance, yet avoided, at all costs, by the puny people of Kingdom-earth, even the greatest of whom could not withstand such a powerful blast.

The girl was not about to disclose her confusion to just anyone, in a field of farmers and horse-traders, cattlemen and simple craftsmen. Ah Bāo had the petite build and inquisitive gaze of a girl of sixteen years, who posed a threat to no one, in physical terms. Yet there were glimpses of her resolve, her endless curiosity, in her questions to the one elder in their community whose answers promised her more than simple placation. An accomplished calligrapher, she hoped to show off her newest pages of transcribed verses to him, in hopes that he would sprinkle their dialogue with more of his insights into the dangers and delights of life in Kingdom-earth: Lim Ru, Master of the Arts.

Her exploration of the village brought her face to face with perhaps the one person who occupied the furthest distance, not in geography but in station and wisdom, from Master Lim; a child was not permitted to address grown persons by their given names. Bāo was permitted - indeed, encouraged - to use the name of the sulking boy who swung his balled fists as he stormed across the road in the opposing direction, seemingly oblivious to her own progress toward him. His eyes were squeezed shut, as if he were stricken with a painful ache behind them. She stepped before him and feigned an amused surprise. "Oh! It is the blind old cat," she teased. "Care for a bowl of milk?" The women raising her would be scandalized by her affrontery, but it was not them whom she was seeking to affront.

Hu Fen came to attention. His eyes bulged wide, displaying the anger he did not need to feign. A boy of almost seventeen years, he was one of the more fervent trainees in the ranks of the village youth guard. His peasant status presented him with something of an obstacle to achieving his most cherished goal, to enlist in the Tiger Guard. Fen would not be dissuaded from his aspiration by the featherweight mockery of a village maiden. "I did not summon you," he sneered. "It is therefore unseemly of you to be standing before me. You would like to take dictation? I have no need of anyone to take down a letter, as I have no-one to whom I wish to write, Bāo."

"Though, on further examination, I find he is neither old, nor particularly cat-like. Blind, he remains!" Bāo delighted in tormenting Fen, whom she considered to be a fine enough boy, when he was doing his duty, but of a quite disappointing severity. "You will make a most unconvincing Tiger, Hu Fen. Perhaps you would suffice tilling the land, behind the oxen? It might be less taxing for you."

The venomous reply he wanted to hurl at her died in his throat, before he could utter it. Tiger Guards, Fen knew, required full mastery over their resources, the mental as well as the physical; a serene warrior was an obstacle few men could hope to overcome, so the teaching went. "Your taunts do not move me," he whispered through grinding teeth. "I have worked the land, as every Tiger's cub must do. We cannot defend this village, if we do not participate in its ways."

"Did your leader so instruct you?" Bāo asked, rhetorically, knowing the answer. Chen Guanyu, Fen's assigned tutor, was captain of the village guard. There was no way to know how old he was; like Ru, he was not known to divulge much of his past to his associates, but he enjoyed a reputation for excellence in combat, as well as integrity of character.

"You know he did," Fen said, keeping his tone level. His gaze was drawn away to the sight of a familiar figure crossing the square, on approach to intercept the youths. He would not permit himself, in the presence of Bāo, the indulgence of a smile, but he nodded in satisfaction. From him, it was almost as revealing, as weakening, as a smile, she recognized, but she was shrewd enough to keep this acknowledgement unspoken; even her brown eyes betrayed no sentiment.

^^^^

He wished to get on with the major lesson of the day, whatever challenges it may pose him. He took a step forward, raising his right arm to wave to Master Chen. He paid no notice of the three boys, one slender and two beefy, who approached him from two sides of the street. They seemed intent upon crossing only, paying him no mind, until they were almost within arm's reach of him, before they shifted their direction to move towards him. The beefy lads could boast of greater height and broader chests than Fen could claim to possess. It might even prove to be of a certain benefit to them, in a conflict situation, Bāo recognized. In that event, the fighting sticks they carried would prove to be a devastating source of pain for their enemies.

Fen nodded to the one who appeared to be their leader, as he seemed both oldest and fittest, without wasting any visible emotion or thought on them. This was not sufficient deference for the older boy, who moved to stand in Fen's path, glaring at him. "It is not my custom to permit such an insult to go unanswered," the older lad snarled. "I permit you to apologize, now, for this offense, for I am Du Shun, and I will one day command this village."

"You permit nothing," said Fen. "I have not offered outrage. You moved in front of me." He rocked back on one heel, flattening one hand so that its fingers seemed to form a blade edge, and balled his other hand into a fist. "It is I who will accept your apology, for I am Hu Fen, a Tiger cub of this community, and I do not recognize your authority over me. 'One day' has not yet come. You are guarding a tree-stump, but I am no rabbit."

"Then a day of bruises and sore muscles has arrived instead," promised Du Shun, as he went into a combat stance, knees bent slightly, fists readied. His confederates followed suit, though they stood outside of the circle of action, in deference to Shun's right to strike first at this impudent boy. A confrontation was inevitable; the three newcomers had selected a target they deemed surmountable. It would prove to be a costly misconception. Shun offered a last taunting line: "Your meal is served!"

"Here's a taste for you," Fen barked back, swatting the stick out of Shun's hands with a sweeping hand as he kicked behind Shun's right knee, which could have, given more force, dropped the taller boy. Shun staggered, but recovered and rose to his full height, seeking to intimidate Fen. It did not avail him, for Fen was past noting such factors; he was dancing in the red fog of battle now. Complex thoughts could not distract nor dismay him, as he put years of training and struggle to contain his emotions to good use.

The other boys yelled their encouragements to him, even smacking their sticks together, which seemed counterproductive to Bāo. What if doing so caused them to damage their equipment? Who had taught these ruffians, if anyone had taught them at all? She could not help but fret for Fen, though admitting to this would offend him more than any impact of a fist might do. He could not hope to earn his Tiger's stripes by answering any attack, even from superior odds, with swift, implacable fury.

Shun seemed to spiral one fist downward at Fen, mirroring this action by half-circling the other first in an attempted uppercut. Fen was ready for this action, blocking both blows with his crossed forearms, though he let out a pained breath. He let his momentum spin him on his feet, so that he smashed Shun square on his chin and followed up with a driving blow to his solar plexus. The taller boy was driven back by the force of the shorter, younger boy's actions, and his wide-eyed gaze displayed his surprise.

The slender boy stepped in close to Fen, proving himself afraid to answer an unarmed challenger who had just demonmstrated his prowess. The fresh attacker's plan was to trip or disable Fen, with a targeted hit by the end of his stick against the side of his leg. A deliberate ankle or knee strike was forbidden, even by common ruffians, because it might prove injurious to a future dragon fighter, and the villagers all, street ruffians included, would only benefit from maintaining vigorous, uninjured Tiger guards.

This did not mollify Bāo. She took offense that someone so armed would choose such a cowardly strike against even so formidable an opponent as her friend, when he was not wielding a weapon of his own. As the second heavy-set youth waded in to try his luck with Fen, who no longer seemed so outnumbered as he had just seconds before, she sucked in her breath and heard herself whistling in the moist air. She looked at Fen's new sparring partner and blew her breath in his direction, as if she could blow on him. He slid sideways, missing Fen by several inches with one chopping blow, and slipped on the muddy ground. It was almost as if she had blown him right off of his feet. Absurd!

^^^^

The familiar fellow made his presence known, stepping out into the street so that he could be seen by the four boys. Fen did not spy him first, but he was the first to call out to him, "Master Lim, I was just looking for you!" It was the most joyous he had sounded to her for several days, Bāo thought.

"You have found me," said Lim Ru, "and what a display you have put on for me, Fen." He clapped his hands together, as if summing up something, and the four boys, including Fen, struggled to stand up at attention, breathing hard, bleeding from cuts, wincing from bruises, trying to gather up their dignity, no matter how muddied and disheveled they appeared to be. Ru studied each of them in turn, before nodding in approval. He arrived at Fen's expectant gaze last. "Are you satisfied with your performance?"

"I am," Fen maintained. "It was a very good lesson." He savored the slow smile that Master Lim wore in response. "I had hoped for a single victim only, but you provided me with three. My cup overflows." He nodded to each of them in turn, his three assailants. "I found you all to be worthy, even troublesome. You have my gratitude."

"And you have mine," Lim echoed him, shooing the boys away as if they had nothing further to offer. They bowed to him, too, before straggling away to find fresh amusements for themselves. "I must commend you, young Fen, for the restraint you showed them. Although they acted under my direction, they could have well been simple brigands, yet you elected to employ the minimum degree of force needed to ward off their assaults."

Fen responded with a humble nod, but Bāo was not satisfied. "Master Lim, I do not understand how such mercy could be of value to someone who is being trained to fight dragons," she exclaimed. "Surely the great beasts do not reward such mercy when we offer it to them. I know it is unlikely that our community will ever face a drgon, but what if it should come to pass that we do? Would Fen know when to be mild and when to be -"

"A Tiger?" Lim put a gentle hand on her shoulder and indicated the nearbv reflecting pool with his other hand. "Ah Bāo, you have such a hungry mind. The desire for wisdom, and the means to make use of it, are weapons, even greater than a sword. We must make use of every element in our arsenals, every one of us. Just as Fen must learn, then unlearn, his battle stances, his weapons, his breathing, so must you compile your knowledge of the world, which should please your instructresses." She dared glance over at Fen. He drank in every word from his master's lips, unwilling to risk disapproval by interrupting him. She found this astonishing, but rather enjoyable.

They came to a stop beside the reflecting pool, to which many villagers would come to reflect on their activities and their concerns, as much as they did their own appearances. "You have never struck me as a patient student, Fen," Lim said as they looked down. "Always pulling on rice-shoots, thinking this will make them grow faster. We have much to be readied for, children. Talk is that a dragon is afoot in this valley. Idle chatter of bored peasantry? Tiger guards investigate any rumor of war. Your meal-time has arrived. Eat well, my young cub." Fen departed.

Bāo found herself swept up in the thrill of patriotic devotion. Whatever Fen was feeling, she could not conceal her own inspiration, looking down at the calm pool of still water. She found herself wanting to present an aspect of martial dedication, as her friend did. She could not make out her own eyes in the water, and wondered what they might look like if they were blue, or green, and then, they were green. A spasm of pleasure coursed through Bāo, interrupted only when she made inadvertant eye contact with the lingering Lim. He seemed to linger, for unknown reasons - wishing to confide in her, perhaps? His next words seemed innocuous, at first.

"And to answer your question, Bāo: yes, a Tiger who walks like a man may prove a ferocious opponent even to a dragon, a creature that can wield the wind and the waves, change its shape and its color, even talk as though it were one of us. We have beaten back four-clawed dragons and two-horned dragons, and we know of a five-clawed variety, which we have never seen. As you are one of the orphans, I suspect this may never have come up in your past discussions. It is for this reason, and because you have always impressed me with your bright mind and your sense of duty to our village, that I would like to pose you a question." Glancing about, he whispered, gently: "Tell me, dear child: Which variety of dragon... are YOU?"

© Eric Wolf 2022.

Fantasy
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About the Creator

Eric Wolf

Ink-slinger. Photo-grapher. Earth-ling. These are Stories of the Fantastic and the Mundane. Space, time, superheroes and shapeshifters. 'Wolf' thumbnail: https://unsplash.com/@marcojodoin.

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