[ussbansheec] The Wolf's Path

_The Wolf's Path
_by Xian Lang and Master Caine

You cannot travel on the path until you become the path itself. ~ Buddha -

There was, in Xian Lang's opinion, always a problem when priests of that sort walked the Earth. For all their peaceful ways, their kind always seemed to stir up trouble, either among themselves or, worse yet in Lang's opinion, among the Xian. It made no matter to Lang, though. He liked the ShaoLin and, perverse as he was, he liked trouble.

The true problem was not the priests or even the other Xian, in Lang's view. No, it was the one who called himself Abbadon. That winged creature was not born of the other side of Heaven. No, it came from elsewhere and had been a thorn in the side of all the Xian, and most especially Lang, for eons. He called himself an Icariae and he seemed to enjoy tormenting the Humans, especially the ones among them who held their morality sacred. Hence, Lang knew, Abbadon's particular interest in the ShaoLin. Oh, it had been quiet for many years. That much was true but then that was also because the ShaoLin had left them for quite some time. How long had it been? Two or three hundred of the Human years? It made things a bit dull in Lang's estimation but he'd found other ways to amuse himself.

The one who had been the last of his kind finally returned. Lang had no idea where, if anywhere, the man had been but there he was, living among the ones who walked the other side of Heaven and practicing his art. He still had, Lang was pleased to see, the Dragon Stone. Ai ya, if that had fallen into Abbadon's hands...those Humans would have welcomed the invasion of the other creatures they fought with, the ones who thought themselves Xian like Lang and the others. Oh yes, possession of the Dragon Stone would have given that evil huh choo-shang tza-jiao duh tzang-huo power enough to stand toe to toe with the Xian and even those above them.

He'd wondered how long it would take for the winged creature to notice the return of the warrior priest. It was, finally, only five years. It was long enough for the priest to make the decision to have a family: a wife and two children. Long enough for the ShaoLin to become beloved in his adopted community near the Human's great university of those who walked the constellations. Long enough for him to start the plans of a new temple for his order. Long enough, Lang thought sadly, for Abbadon to find out the true nature of the jewel the priest wore around his neck.

In the end, the priest had been wise as ever. Exhausted and knowing he was at the end of his strength, he'd led Abbadon away from his beloved family and community then did something he'd only done once before. He ran. He ran as though his life, which didn't have much left on that plane, and the lives of everyone and everything he held dear depended on it. Of course it did.

How the man had found the home of the Xian, Lang had no idea but Lang cursed himself as soon as he saw him. Not for having their home discovered but for not being more vigilant, for not protecting the last ShaoLin. Broken and bleeding, the priest dropped to his knees in front of Lang, unable to stand any longer. Lang could hear him whispering and knelt next to him.

"Sangham saranam gachami. Sangham saranam gachami..."

Lang was about to correct the man. He was not one of his kind, most definitely not a practitioner of his religion in any form and, so, not the one from whom he could ask refuge. Then eyes that had been glazed with pain and approaching death became as sharp as Lang's own as the priest grabbed his hand.

"Take it," the priest hissed through clenched teeth. "Take it before Abbadon can."

Lang's eyes flew open wider. He had no idea that any Human knew the evil one's true name. "He did this to you, Master?" he asked. He didn't have to be so polite to a Human but this was one of the Xian's favorites, especially his own. 

"We fought.  I lost and ran.  Take it.  Keep it from him."

The tone was almost pleading. It wasn't the fear of pain or death but the fear of the jewel being in the wrong hands. Nevertheless, Lang said something he knew was useless. "You will die, Master."

"Better by your hand than the evil one's. At least the Dragon Stone will be safe. Please."

The opalescent stone hung from a simple silver colored chain around the man's neck. Lang's nimble fingers rested briefly on the catch that held the ends of the chain together, heedless of the tears that ran down his face. "Your sage said that you cannot travel on the path until you become the path itself," he said softly as he opened the catch, the one that would release the Dragon Stone from the priest's neck and, therefore, release his life from its body. "Walk your path now, Master. You have become it."

Lang waited until the other Xian removed what was left of the priest, knowing all deference and respect would be paid, before he stood up. Without conscious thought, he reached back and pulled his sword from its scabbard. The hunt was on.

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