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[Tai Kwan Leap]

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Tai Kwan, Elder Sensei of the Silver Lotus, Shogun of Otori, Emperor of the Burning Empire, is stripped to his hakama and kneeling in the dezai position on his prayer mat before the Otori shrine in his personal dojo in a deep meditative state. The small but well muscled man’s body has been ceremoniously oiled down and the appropriate needles have been tapped into the appropriate places, with a precise circle enclosing the base of his eight strand topknot. There is a star shaped pattern of the needles over the old scar in the center of his chest and they slowly burn. The monk’s eyes are closed with brief motion behind his eyelids.

His exposed upper torso is covered in tattoos that seem to shift and move across his skin leaving haunting fading images. Both of his nipples are pierced with dark jade rings. An empty scroll unrolls with blank text and then rolls back up repeatedly across the majority of his back. His left hand contains the proper three layers of silk in the Otori colors of crimson, gold and black. In his right rests the hilt of the Otori blade, the rest of the blade is balanced across the top of his thighs and is held in reverence with his left hand.

The air in the room is thick with the fragrance of his personal mix of incense, a musky citrus blend that Tai Kwan finds pleasing. He breathes methodically, drawing the air and energy into his body, as he attempts to draw the dragon breath into his body. Slowly he pulls the blade across his hand slicing through the layers of silk to open his left palm to the bone. Tai then lifts the blade from his left hand and lets the blood slowly course the way down the blade leaving a trail of blue fire down to his right hand.

Slowly the pale blue flame dances across his right hand and the tattoo of the Otori dragon that begins with the tail of the dragon wrapped three times around his throat. It pulses rhythmically in time to his breathing pattern as the eyes of the dragon on the back of his right fist flicker then open glowing the same pale blue energy. A low harmonic vibration begins to fill the emptiness of the still air in the room. Keeping his eyes closed he uses the now humming blade to salute the four watchtowers, and then places it back in his now empty but healed left palm.

The air in front of the Otori shrine sparkles and then with a thunderclap there is a pale jade green figure wearing a hooded robe seated on a simple wooden throne floating in front of the monk.

“Do you speak as the painted monk, or as Otori? Which side of your heritage are you honoring” the voice echoes throughout the dojo.

Tai’s eyes open revealing their neutral pale grey color. “I speak as one that has a right to be heard.”

A low grinding chuckle reverberates throughout the foggy chamber.

“You speak like your father more every day” the voice says as the hooded image continues to float before Tai.

“Mention him again and I will do whatever it is within my purview to find your high mount and remove that smirk from your lips” Tai says inclining his slightly forward.

The green image flickers a pale red, before the hooded form removes a pair of wooden prayer beads and begins ticking through them.

“Little Dragon, you dare threaten the elder council” the hooded form shifts to that of the blind Master Po.

Tai Kwan’s left hand strikes a hammer fist blow to the throat of the glowing form of Master Po and it dissipates with evil laughter.

The hooded image returns adjusting robes.

“Much anger in you. Much sadness. Have you given up,” the hooded figure asks his voice echoing in the room.

“I follow my path, and it has brought me to this juncture” Tai says as he slowly stands.

The spectral image flickers from green to red again then slowly back down to green.

“You dare to stand in our assembled presence” the voice shrieks.

Tai Kwan reaches over for his mystic quarterstaff with his left foot and flips it spinning into the air and then casually reaches out and pulls it in holding guard position gamma.

“I am what my life has made me. I however refuse to bend my knee to your august body. I am not your weapon of vengeance. I am not your diplomat. I am simply Tai Kwan” the short man says and then slams the quarterstaff into the tatami mats with purple sparks shooting up like fireworks.

The hooded image blinks a few times and then reveals three of them pacing.

Tai pulls the Otori blade into the pain kata position. There are seven working moves from this position with the blade. He knows that the first three are meant to disarm with minimal contact. The fourth is meant to kill. The last three are just meant to inflict crushing pain.

Red sparks fly from the spectral image of the three green glowing pacing hooded figures. “You are not allowed to do this. This betrays centuries of protocol.”

“My path is my own. None determine it but myself,” the small but wide man says the coils of the dragon tattoo constricting and releasing.
A hollow chuckling of three different voices fills the smoky chamber. “Little Dragon, your indecision will cost you all that you cherish.”

His right foot moves fast enough to kick grains of rice aside and snaps a precise blow to the central hooded figure. Multi-colored sparks flare as the figure is knocked back and revealed to be Master Po.

“You have no honor as long as you harbor the one who dishonored our clan” he holds his right leg cocked to launch another attack.

“You lost the right to speak to this conclave when you gave the rule of your lands to your four uncles. Kneel now and retain your honor” the remaining two step forward together.

“Look to your feet and you will see my response” Tai says pointing to the four bleached skulls at the base of the Otori Shrine.

“You have no knowledge of what you attempt” the Master Po image pulls his hood back on and joins the other two to become the Three.

“You are wrong. I know now he spared at least two of the elder council. I will not rest” he bends slightly to the image.

“I am no longer the Painted Monk, that title passes to my first born. From this day forward this council will simply address me as Ryu or the Dragon” he holds his right leg cocked to launch another attack.

The image then slowly fades from green to white then gone.

He carefully and reverently placed the Otori blade back into its resting place above the shrine. Slowly he turns to face those that had entered earlier.
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"He's been fired from the Shrimp Boat?" -- Charlaine Harris "Living Dead In Dallas."