Takes place before Season One.

At first, I made the True Master Japanese in this fic, but apparently she is Chinese in the show, so I’ve changed that. I’ve also put in her real name now, instead of the one I made up, which was mentioned in the credits and not the show itself. Go figure!

“Mastery”

By Remix17

The True Master, as she was known by her students, was in the forest. It was midmorning, almost noon, and she was meditating. She’d had no student to teach for some time now, but the old woman did not mind; another would arrive soon, when he or she was ready to accept her guidance. And if a young learner, looking for a path, did not come, then that would be all right as well. The Master was content to be here, alone, with nature and the mountains.

But something told her that he was coming soon, and while he would not be a student eager to train with her, she would still leave her sanctuary to great him nevertheless. After all, how could she not? It had been years since she had last seen him, years in which the Master had grown small and wrinkled, though wiser and stronger in her mind. Once, he had been one of her students, a fierce one at that, and though she had been unable to teach him all of her ways, she had adored and cared for him as she had done all of her other pupils. She knew, from the news spoken on other’s lips, that her former pupil had changed for the worse since he had left her, and this worried the Master. Teachers did not like to see their own charges grow up to meet so little of their potential.

The woman inhaled the air, and knew he was on his way. She had to go now if she wanted to be there at the dojo when he arrived. It was the only proper thing to do, to greet him after his long journey. The Master stood up on her old legs, and, tucking her hands into her large sleeves, started toward the dojo at an even pace, wondering just how her little one had changed over the years. She had heard…less than honorable things about him.

She reached the dojo before he did, and prepared tea so that they could drink together when he arrived, as they used to. She thought about making a small meal, but then decided he would not want to eat—he would want to talk. After a few minutes, the tea was ready, she heard the slightest sound of footsteps, barely audible. The Master smiled. She had taught her student about walking silently so as not to be detected, but now he was allowing himself to be heard by her, so that she would know of his arrival.

She exited the dojo, walking out onto the steps, and there he was. The woman’s breath almost caught in her throat as she gazed upon her former pupil. He was much taller now, and his arms and chest were thick and muscular. He wore metal armor on his arms and legs and chest, and a mask over his face. The mask was split down the middle, the right side black, the left side a dark orange. He only had one eye now, on the left side of his face, and it was harder and colder than it had been the last time she had seen him.

“My child,” she said to him. Of course, she knew that saying “child” wasn’t necessary anymore; it was something a mother might say to her young son, to show her affection, but Slade wasn’t a child anymore, and he hadn’t been for years.

The Master paused for a moment, the radical change in her former student too difficult to ignore, and then started down the steps to greet him. She saw Slade’s pale eye change a little, admiration and respect reflecting inside it, and he knelt down on one knee as she came near him, lowering his head helmeted, a clear sign of respect. He wanted her to be comfortable, not beneath his level, not wanting to stand over her short frame. The Master paused before him, touched by his act.

“You have been away a long time,” she said to him. “You have made me wait many years to see you again.”

“I had things to do first,” Slade answered. The Master found that his voice was rich now, handsome and smooth, but somehow unsettling at the same time. “I had a name to create for myself before I could return to you.”

“I suppose I understand, my son.”

“It’s just Slade now,” he corrected her. “I am no longer a boy.”

The True Master shook her head at this statement, amused. “You are right, of course. After all, look at you. You tower over me now! Of course, you always did, but now you are like a mountain, a strong mountain like the ones around us…” The woman reached up and grabbed the sides of Slade’s masked face, turning his head slightly as she gazed at him. She paused, noting the place in his mask where his other eye should be, and she rubbed the spot with her fingers, as if mourning the injury. “Oh, how did this happen?” she asked him. “Whatever caused this, I hope you did not suffer too much.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “It’s in the past.”

She smiled again. “I always worried about you. Always.” The woman let him go. “Come, into the dojo with me. I have made some tea for you.”

“I did not come for tea, master,” he told her. “I came to speak with you.”

“I know you came to speak, but have you forgotten that…” The woman trailed off as she saw the firm, stoic expression he gave her, though his face was hidden. The expression amused her, as it had always done when he had been young. “Oh, alright, the tea can wait,” she said. He was still so serious. “What has my former student come to say to me that cannot wait?”

“I have come to tell you,” Slade answered her, “that I have decided to get a… student…of my own now.”

This surprised the True Master. “A student of your own?” she repeated with interest. “Really?”

“I’ve done a lot since I have been away,” Slade told her. “My reach in America is extensive, and I’m very powerful, with an empire of my own. I want someone to follow in my footsteps. I want an apprentice, someone like myself, someone that I can teach all the knowledge I’ve gained.”

The old woman studied him carefully. “But not all of the things you have learned have been taught to you by me,” the Master said carefully. She was referring, of course, to Slade’s less-than-reputable activities. The True Master knew that her former student was now a terrible criminal, a feared man where he was from. She knew that since leaving her, he had grown ruthless and angry, merciless and harsh. His “ambitions” were evil ones, and they threatened the goodness that she had always believed in.

Slade sensed what she was thinking. “You do not approve?” he said slowly.

The old woman sighed. “No, my child, I do not approve.”

This seemed to anger him, but he did not yell or lose his calm. He was very good at that. “You do not approve of me, do you, master?” he said to her.

“No,” the woman said after a moment. “I do not approve of you. I think of you when you were younger, a teenager, and how angry and cold you were…but that is nothing compared to what you have become now. You know, I once thought that if I taught you what I knew…that if I treated you well…you would become righteous man. But things did not work out for you the way that I had hoped.”

“Everything you taught me I appreciate,” he told her. “As my own student will appreciate what I will teach him.”

“Like you appreciated what your other master taught you?” she countered swiftly. “You despised your master. You hated being his apprentice, at least you did when I knew you. Why would you do that to another child?”

Slade stared at the woman for many moments, and when he finally spoke his words were almost accusatory. “Are you going to stop me from getting what I want?” he asked her.

The True Master was shocked by his tone, but then she just sighed weakly, and shook her head. “No,” she said. “I cannot stop you. But if you must know…if I could stop you, I would do it. After seeing what potential you held, I am disappointed in the man you have become, Slade.”

Slade. She had called him Slade, and nothing else.

“This was all a waste of time,” the man hissed at her, getting to his feet. He sounded angry—cast aside. “I think I’ll go now.”

“No—don’t go,” the Master said to him. “We can still talk.”

“No, we can’t,” Slade returned, and he started to leave, going back down the mountain. The Master watched him go.

“So. Are you off to conquer the world now?” she asked his back grimly.

Slade stopped walking and turned to face her. His expression—or at least his eye—was still angry “As a matter of fact,” he told her, with a strange smoothness, “I am off to conquer the world.” He paused, then added, “But for what it’s worth…Chu-hui…I will not harm you. You were my teacher, the only person who ever treated me with kindness. And so I will make sure that you are safe from me.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” the woman murmured. “Truly, I do. But if that time ever does come...I would rather die.”

Slade turned and left, and the True Master watched him go. She felt sad again, as her former student disappeared from view. Sad that she would not be visited by him after this, and sad that a long time ago she had been unable to help her pupil defeat the evil in his heart.

Feeling like a traitor to her own beloved pupil, the True Master hoped that someone would stop him.

—The End—

Ack. Slade hurts everyone, doesn’t he?

Just an idea I had. After “The Quest” came out I figured it was possible that Slade had been trained by the Master, just like Robin had been. Those two sort of do everything the same, after all.

Oh, and I know that Slade doesn’t call anyone “master”—at least not willingly—but in this case “master” is synonymous with “teacher,” so it’s not the same thing. I think.