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Description
Raimundo grinned to himself as he watched Omi look over the scroll. The little monks eyes were wide with shock. He reread the passage over and over again, unable to comprehend the words.
“I... I do not believe this!”
“Why not?” Raimundo said, smirking proudly. “He was a Dragon after all. Why couldn’t he be the Dragon of Wind.”
“But-but, Grand Master Dashi was a great and powerful warrior! And you were the last to become apprentice!”
Raimundo glared at his fellow Wudai Warrior.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“What’s goin’ on in here?”
Clay and Kimiko stepped into the library looking rather annoyed.
“I found this scroll,” Rai explained. “It was marked restricted.”
“So obviously you thought it was a good idea to read it,” Kimiko said dryly.
“It’s shows the past Dragons,” Raimundo grinned as the two wordlessly sat at the table and leaned in to read over Omi’s shoulder. The scroll was in better condition than they expected, the paper a clean white though it was soft, as though it had been handled a lot. There was an enormous list of names, beside each was the Chinese character for their element and their home country. Their names had yet to be added.
“Hey,” Clay said, pointing to the last name. “Th’ Earth Dragon before me was from America too.”
“What kind of name is Jason Red Hawk?” Raimundo asked.
“It’s Native American,” Clay said. “They have cool names like that. I once heard of a guy called Snake Blocker.”
“Aw, that’s wicked!”
“The last Dragon of the Water was from Iceland,” Omi commented. “I am sure he was a most skilled warrior,”
“She,” Omi blinked.
“What?”
“The Dragon of Water was a girl. Snaedis Agnarsson.” Kimiko grinned wickedly at the little monk.
“There’s a little star next to her name too,” Raimundo added. “I think she was leader.”
“Ooh,” Omi groaned. “I am having so many emotions.”
“Let’s get to the good stuff,” Rai said, pulling the scroll farther apart. Generations of Dragons passed before their eyes. Hundreds of names were listed, dating back as far back as the year 500. It was there that they found the names they had been looking for.
“See!” Raimundo pointed to Grand Master Dashi’s name. “Told you he was Wind!”
“Wow,” Kimiko said.
“I know. Impressive right?”
“Not that,” Kimiko snapped. “Chase is listed here.”
“Makes sense,” Clay said. “He was a Dragon before Hannibal tricked him.”
“What element was he?” Omi asked.
“Um...”
“What?”
“He was Water, pardner.”
“Oh.”
Omi was silent. He had always declared that he was nothing like Chase Young, but the pieces were fitting. A powerful Dragon of Water, tricked into joining the Heylin ways. Raimundo patted his shoulder.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Omi nodded, trying to give his friend a smile.
“That’s weird,” Kimiko said, breaking the heavy mood. “The Dragon of Fire isn’t listed.”
“Really?” Raimundo looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, just beneath Master Monk Guan’s name, where there should have been a Dragon of Fire, was a blank space. Not even a character for fire.
“I don’t get it,” Clay said. “They couldn’t have not had a Fire Dragon.”
“The name is not listed because the temple does not wish to remember.”
In nearly perfect unison, the Dragons shrieked in surprise. Omi jumped so hard he ended up clinging the light that hung from the ceiling. Raimundo whirled around to face Master Fung.
Without saying a word, the elder monk crossed the room and took a seat in front of the scroll.
“I suppose it is best that I tell you now,” he said. “So you know the whole truth. But I must ask that you allow me to finish my story before asking any questions.”
“ We won’t,” Clay said quietly. Master Fung nodded and began to speak.
“Fifteen hundred years ago, Grand Master Dashi and his fellow Dragons were training to master their element, much like you are now. They were young, just discovering who they were and still growing every day. Dashi, Chase and Guan were all proving to be prodigies. In less than a year, they had ascended to the rank of Wudai Warriors and mastered the powers of their Wudai Weapons.
The Dragon of Fire, however, was a different story...”

XSXSXSXS

A young girl walked through the village, a large basket of fruits in her arms. The kind old woman down the road had given them to her at a discount, knowing that the Xiaolin temple was still under construction and wanting to help the inhabitants out. The girl grunted under the weight of it all, mentally cursing her so called friends. They had been the ones to rat her out for skipping practice, so Master Gong had sent her to get errands.
It was a full ten miles to the village, and that was just one way. Not to mention that returning to the temple meant a steep uphill walk and all those stairs.
He knew how to pick his punishments, she would give him that.
She was just leaving the village, and beginning the god awful trip to the temple when she heard the strong tump tump of an approaching horse. Without looking behind her, she crossed to the edge of the road to let the rider pass. They, instead of carrying on their way, slowed to a trot and came up beside her.
The rider was a young man, no older than eighteen. His black hair was ridiculously curly and bounced against his head with each step the horse took. His eyes were soft brown and he smiled down at her.
“Would you like some help?”
The girl, too stunned to speak, nodded her head and allowed the boy to tug her up onto the horse.
“Where might I be taking you?” The man asked. The girl swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Th-the Xiaolin temple, please,” The young man whistled.
“Long ways away,” he shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything.” The young girl tried to come up with a reply, something witty or flirty, but no words came out. The young man snapped the reins and the horse struck off at a fast pace, forcing the girl to grab around the young man’s waste. Pressed against him, she could feel the gentle warmth of his body and the lean muscles of his back.
The ride seemed to take an eternity, neither one saying a word. The girl felt incredibly awkward, hugging a complete, though quite handsome, stranger. She practically jumped from the horse when they arrived at the temple stairs.
“Thank you so much for the ride,” she said softly.
“It’s not a problem, really,” the young man said. There was a pause between the pair. “I’m Yaoh, by the way.” The girl blushed and tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear.
“I’m Wuya,”
“Wuya,” Yaoh repeated. “Will I ever get to see you again, Wuya?”
“I’d like that,”
Yaoh smiled at her and she felt her insides buzz. As she watched him go, she decided that climbing a flight of steps wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
Nearly and hour later, her tune had changed. Midway up the steps it began raining. Not a light drizzle either, a real summer downpour. This caused her to slip somewhere close to the top, spilling the fruits. She’d had to run back down, collect the lot of them, replace them all and trudge back up the stairs. Just as she reached the top, the rain suddenly stopped. A monk, whose name always escaped her, took the fruit from her and scurried off to store it in one of the few finished parts of the temple, the kitchen.
Wuya stood for a moment, frustration building to near explosive levels. She tried to remember Master Gong’s advice for easing her temper.
Take yourself away from the situation. Focus on something that calms you. Deep breaths.
She exhaled sharply from her nose and stormed off, no general destination in mind. She thought about Yaoh. His kindess and curly hair.This made her buzz again. Mixed with the anger she already felt, she was left with a cocktail of emotions that kept her stalking around the temple grounds until her legs practically gave out. Considering she had just climbed a quarter mile’s worth of stairs, this did not take long.
When Wuya sat down to take a breath, she suddenly realized she had never been in this part of the temple before.
A tall tower was in the process of being built, though no villagers were currently working on it. She walked through the empty archway, which she assumed would be the entrance, and found a great hole in the ground. She blinked in surprise and cautiously approached the hole, fearing it to be unstable. It wasn’t. The hole had been purposely built with circular stairs lining the walls all the way down to the bottom. A terrible feeling of curiosity came over her. What was at the bottom? Why would the temple make a great big hole?
Gingerly, Wuya stuck her foot out and put some of her weight on it. No creaking or cracking. Good sign. She put both feet on, careful to lean to the side for easy escape should the step suddenly collapse.
“I’ll just take a little look,” she murmured. “It probably isn’t complete yet.” Down she went, both hands pressed against the smooth surface of the hole. She reached the bottom and was surprised to find a tunnel that split off into the darkness. The lack of roof in the tower had provided her with enough light up until that point. Now she would have to make her own.
She took several deep breaths to clear her head and focused her energy on generating a flame. She felt the surge of warm energy sweep down her arm and circle in the palm of her hand. When she opened her eyes again, there was a flame. Sure it was small, sure she had to keep her other hand in front of it to keep the wind from her walking from blowing it out but she had done it.
Wuya the failure, Wuya the non-Apprentice, had made fire.
Slowly she walked, gazing around at the various cobwebs and cracks in the walls. The tunnel was dank and she could swear she felt a cold breeze coming from ahead. Finally she reached the end, where a single wooden door stood firm. Wuya opened it with her free hand.
It was a small room, filling from top to bottom with scrolls. The wooden shelves were lined with them, all shapes and sizes and lengths. She was so distracted by it all, she practically tripped over a small chest. Wuya bent to examine it, bringing her little candlelight closer. The chest was nothing special. Made of steel with no designs whatsoever. The only thing that kept her attention was the paper seal. It was written in script she had never seen before, with paper that felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. She caught sight of an inscription just below the seal, written in Chinese. She leaned in even closer to read it and set the seal on fire.
Wuya jumped back in alarm as the paper began to hiss and pop as the flames ate away at it. She hadn’t even brought the fire that close! How could it have burned?
When the seal was gone, the lid of the chest popped open, revealing a singular scroll inside. As she reached out to touch it, the scroll briefly glowed a bright green, during which time she could make out some sort of title.
The Ways of the Heylin.

Description
Raimundo grinned to himself as he watched Omi look over the scroll. The little monks eyes were wide with shock. He reread the passage over and over again, unable to comprehend the words.
“I... I do not believe this!”
“Why not?” Raimundo said, smirking proudly. “He was a Dragon after all. Why couldn’t he be the Dragon of Wind.”
“But-but, Grand Master Dashi was a great and powerful warrior! And you were the last to become apprentice!”
Raimundo glared at his fellow Wudai Warrior.
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“What’s goin’ on in here?”
Clay and Kimiko stepped into the library looking rather annoyed.
“I found this scroll,” Rai explained. “It was marked restricted.”
“So obviously you thought it was a good idea to read it,” Kimiko said dryly.
“It’s shows the past Dragons,” Raimundo grinned as the two wordlessly sat at the table and leaned in to read over Omi’s shoulder. The scroll was in better condition than they expected, the paper a clean white though it was soft, as though it had been handled a lot. There was an enormous list of names, beside each was the Chinese character for their element and their home country. Their names had yet to be added.
“Hey,” Clay said, pointing to the last name. “Th’ Earth Dragon before me was from America too.”
“What kind of name is Jason Red Hawk?” Raimundo asked.
“It’s Native American,” Clay said. “They have cool names like that. I once heard of a guy called Snake Blocker.”
“Aw, that’s wicked!”
“The last Dragon of the Water was from Iceland,” Omi commented. “I am sure he was a most skilled warrior,”
“She,” Omi blinked.
“What?”
“The Dragon of Water was a girl. Snaedis Agnarsson.” Kimiko grinned wickedly at the little monk.
“There’s a little star next to her name too,” Raimundo added. “I think she was leader.”
“Ooh,” Omi groaned. “I am having so many emotions.”
“Let’s get to the good stuff,” Rai said, pulling the scroll farther apart. Generations of Dragons passed before their eyes. Hundreds of names were listed, dating back as far back as the year 500. It was there that they found the names they had been looking for.
“See!” Raimundo pointed to Grand Master Dashi’s name. “Told you he was Wind!”
“Wow,” Kimiko said.
“I know. Impressive right?”
“Not that,” Kimiko snapped. “Chase is listed here.”
“Makes sense,” Clay said. “He was a Dragon before Hannibal tricked him.”
“What element was he?” Omi asked.
“Um...”
“What?”
“He was Water, pardner.”
“Oh.”
Omi was silent. He had always declared that he was nothing like Chase Young, but the pieces were fitting. A powerful Dragon of Water, tricked into joining the Heylin ways. Raimundo patted his shoulder.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Omi nodded, trying to give his friend a smile.
“That’s weird,” Kimiko said, breaking the heavy mood. “The Dragon of Fire isn’t listed.”
“Really?” Raimundo looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, just beneath Master Monk Guan’s name, where there should have been a Dragon of Fire, was a blank space. Not even a character for fire.
“I don’t get it,” Clay said. “They couldn’t have not had a Fire Dragon.”
“The name is not listed because the temple does not wish to remember.”
In nearly perfect unison, the Dragons shrieked in surprise. Omi jumped so hard he ended up clinging the light that hung from the ceiling. Raimundo whirled around to face Master Fung.
Without saying a word, the elder monk crossed the room and took a seat in front of the scroll.
“I suppose it is best that I tell you now,” he said. “So you know the whole truth. But I must ask that you allow me to finish my story before asking any questions.”
“ We won’t,” Clay said quietly. Master Fung nodded and began to speak.
“Fifteen hundred years ago, Grand Master Dashi and his fellow Dragons were training to master their element, much like you are now. They were young, just discovering who they were and still growing every day. Dashi, Chase and Guan were all proving to be prodigies. In less than a year, they had ascended to the rank of Wudai Warriors and mastered the powers of their Wudai Weapons.
The Dragon of Fire, however, was a different story...”

XSXSXSXS

A young girl walked through the village, a large basket of fruits in her arms. The kind old woman down the road had given them to her at a discount, knowing that the Xiaolin temple was still under construction and wanting to help the inhabitants out. The girl grunted under the weight of it all, mentally cursing her so called friends. They had been the ones to rat her out for skipping practice, so Master Gong had sent her to get errands.
It was a full ten miles to the village, and that was just one way. Not to mention that returning to the temple meant a steep uphill walk and all those stairs.
He knew how to pick his punishments, she would give him that.
She was just leaving the village, and beginning the god awful trip to the temple when she heard the strong tump tump of an approaching horse. Without looking behind her, she crossed to the edge of the road to let the rider pass. They, instead of carrying on their way, slowed to a trot and came up beside her.
The rider was a young man, no older than eighteen. His black hair was ridiculously curly and bounced against his head with each step the horse took. His eyes were soft brown and he smiled down at her.
“Would you like some help?”
The girl, too stunned to speak, nodded her head and allowed the boy to tug her up onto the horse.
“Where might I be taking you?” The man asked. The girl swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Th-the Xiaolin temple, please,” The young man whistled.
“Long ways away,” he shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything.” The young girl tried to come up with a reply, something witty or flirty, but no words came out. The young man snapped the reins and the horse struck off at a fast pace, forcing the girl to grab around the young man’s waste. Pressed against him, she could feel the gentle warmth of his body and the lean muscles of his back.
The ride seemed to take an eternity, neither one saying a word. The girl felt incredibly awkward, hugging a complete, though quite handsome, stranger. She practically jumped from the horse when they arrived at the temple stairs.
“Thank you so much for the ride,” she said softly.
“It’s not a problem, really,” the young man said. There was a pause between the pair. “I’m Yaoh, by the way.” The girl blushed and tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear.
“I’m Wuya,”
“Wuya,” Yaoh repeated. “Will I ever get to see you again, Wuya?”
“I’d like that,”
Yaoh smiled at her and she felt her insides buzz. As she watched him go, she decided that climbing a flight of steps wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
Nearly and hour later, her tune had changed. Midway up the steps it began raining. Not a light drizzle either, a real summer downpour. This caused her to slip somewhere close to the top, spilling the fruits. She’d had to run back down, collect the lot of them, replace them all and trudge back up the stairs. Just as she reached the top, the rain suddenly stopped. A monk, whose name always escaped her, took the fruit from her and scurried off to store it in one of the few finished parts of the temple, the kitchen.
Wuya stood for a moment, frustration building to near explosive levels. She tried to remember Master Gong’s advice for easing her temper.
Take yourself away from the situation. Focus on something that calms you. Deep breaths.
She exhaled sharply from her nose and stormed off, no general destination in mind. She thought about Yaoh. His kindess and curly hair.This made her buzz again. Mixed with the anger she already felt, she was left with a cocktail of emotions that kept her stalking around the temple grounds until her legs practically gave out. Considering she had just climbed a quarter mile’s worth of stairs, this did not take long.
When Wuya sat down to take a breath, she suddenly realized she had never been in this part of the temple before.
A tall tower was in the process of being built, though no villagers were currently working on it. She walked through the empty archway, which she assumed would be the entrance, and found a great hole in the ground. She blinked in surprise and cautiously approached the hole, fearing it to be unstable. It wasn’t. The hole had been purposely built with circular stairs lining the walls all the way down to the bottom. A terrible feeling of curiosity came over her. What was at the bottom? Why would the temple make a great big hole?
Gingerly, Wuya stuck her foot out and put some of her weight on it. No creaking or cracking. Good sign. She put both feet on, careful to lean to the side for easy escape should the step suddenly collapse.
“I’ll just take a little look,” she murmured. “It probably isn’t complete yet.” Down she went, both hands pressed against the smooth surface of the hole. She reached the bottom and was surprised to find a tunnel that split off into the darkness. The lack of roof in the tower had provided her with enough light up until that point. Now she would have to make her own.
She took several deep breaths to clear her head and focused her energy on generating a flame. She felt the surge of warm energy sweep down her arm and circle in the palm of her hand. When she opened her eyes again, there was a flame. Sure it was small, sure she had to keep her other hand in front of it to keep the wind from her walking from blowing it out but she had done it.
Wuya the failure, Wuya the non-Apprentice, had made fire.
Slowly she walked, gazing around at the various cobwebs and cracks in the walls. The tunnel was dank and she could swear she felt a cold breeze coming from ahead. Finally she reached the end, where a single wooden door stood firm. Wuya opened it with her free hand.
It was a small room, filling from top to bottom with scrolls. The wooden shelves were lined with them, all shapes and sizes and lengths. She was so distracted by it all, she practically tripped over a small chest. Wuya bent to examine it, bringing her little candlelight closer. The chest was nothing special. Made of steel with no designs whatsoever. The only thing that kept her attention was the paper seal. It was written in script she had never seen before, with paper that felt like nothing she’d ever felt before. She caught sight of an inscription just below the seal, written in Chinese. She leaned in even closer to read it and set the seal on fire.
Wuya jumped back in alarm as the paper began to hiss and pop as the flames ate away at it. She hadn’t even brought the fire that close! How could it have burned?
When the seal was gone, the lid of the chest popped open, revealing a singular scroll inside. As she reached out to touch it, the scroll briefly glowed a bright green, during which time she could make out some sort of title.
The Ways of the Heylin.