CIRCLE OF TIGERS.

A Kung Fu Panda/Circle of Iron crossover.

It is a story that has been told for generations. The tale started right here, in the Valley of Peace, when it was first told by Oogwai, the creator of Kung Fu. Wise Oogwai told of a great warrior, a Dragon Warrior, who would read the Dragon Scroll and unlock the Might of the Dragon.

Are you sensing a pattern here?

Uh, I mean, with the word ‘dragon’ cropping up every other word and… yeah, back to the legend, yuh?

Well, Oogwai knew, being wise, that it was not for him to teach the Dragon Warrior what he must know. Rather, it was for his apprentice, Master Shifu, to train him. Shifu taught the valiant, wise, cunning, fearless, and all-around fantastic warriors known as the Furious Five, assuming that one of them would become the Dragon Warrior. These five, Mantis, Tigress, Monkey, Crane, and Viper were held to be the greatest warriors in the land.

But they were no match for Shifu’s evil ex-apprentice, Tai Lung. Oh, they did better than any in the land could have, and gave him quite a hiding, but they lost, in the end.

Guess who Oogwai figured could beat this kick-butt dude, huh? Yep, me. Big, clumsy old me. A kung-fu fanatic, and by ‘fanatic’ I mean ‘geek.’

I managed. Just barely, and mostly from luck, but I made it.

Destiny. Helluva thing, yuh?

But the story doesn’t end there. What sort of story would?

Anyway, stories don’t end, not really. They trail off. Even when we die, our story doesn’t end. Oogwai knew that, and so do we all.

Right! ‘Nough of that. Like I said, story doesn’t end. In fact, the story just starts there for the Furious Five. Now, kids, I know we don’t really have time to tell all of their stories after the battle. The stories are a bit bigger than the stories of their lives before, after all!

Gods, I feel old, saying that.

Well, who to pick for today? First one to go adventuring, I guess. Logical enough choice. Tigress never could take it easy. Always training, always working, always testing herself, girl never knew when to quit. The Valley of Peace wasn’t her thing, not really. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she liked it well enough, us especially, but she had to leave. She had to go adventuring, fighting, becoming more than she was.

Yeah, Master Shifu tried to persuade her not to go. We all did.

Me especially, but I did have a crush on her, back then.

But, no, she had to go. After all, there was some kung-fu competition a few valleys away, with a quest as a prize…

(O)

Tigress smiled.

It was not a pretty smile. Nor was it endearing, sweet, coquettish, or any of the other words you might apply to the smile of a beautiful woman. No, this was different. All tiger smiles had teeth. This smile had teeth, and something else. Something from the days when clans of tigers had rules the steppes with tooth and claw. The reflection of ancient cave-fires gleamed in Master Tiger’s eyes.

Her opponent noticed the look, but only smiled in return. He held up one hand, palm upward, and made a ‘come forth’ gesture, his expression mocking and arrogant. “Well?” he asked mildly.

Ooh, that was it! Tiger launched a roundhouse kick right at his face, which he dodged effortlessly. A roundhouse punch was next to venture it’s way to his face, and this he caught in some form of scissor lock, dropping Tigress to her knees. Unfortunately for him, this brought her other fist conveniently close to his stomach.

He was down. Oh, the punch to the stomach didn’t do it. It was the clenched fist to the back of the head.

Or maybe it was being thrown half-way across the arena. That’d do it every time.

(O)

“Well,” the priest in charge of judging the competition murmured, “I suppose we have to credit you with the win, Master Tigress. Far more violent than we normally permit, and we certainly don’t encourage such… brutal methods, but you won. The victory, medallion, and quest, all are yours.”

Tigress, being Tigress, did not preen. She barely linked. She placed her hands by her side, favored the cleric with a short bow, and took the medallion. “Thank you, sir,” she said crisply. “I shall undertake the quest with pride.”

“Ah, yes,” the priest acknowledged. “There is… a matter regarding the quest.”

”A matter?” Master Tigress growled.

“Ah, yes, I’m afraid so. Perhaps, not the kind you are expecting. Not a complication exactly, more a facet of the quest not mentioned. You see, there are guides you must consult.”

“I thought there was a map to Zetan.”

The priest chuckled slightly. “Ah, yes and no. These guides are the map. It is they who will tell you how to get to Zetan, and the book he guards.”

Tigress rolled her eyes skyward. “Great Celestial Emperor!” she hissed. “Very well. Where do I find the guides?”

(O)

The Master of the Tiger Style of Kung Fu sighed. She walked more than a hundred miles, through mountains and plains and valleys and wading through streams and marshes; all to come back to peaceful serenity. Full circle.

Admittedly, this was mountainous territory, not a valley, but the aura was similar. Peace. Serenity. Calmness.

She swore she could almost hear the mournful tones of a flute on the breeze. No, scratch ‘almost,’ she could hear a flute. Mournful, but peaceful. Lilting, eerie, echoing. Atonal, but pleasing.

“Halloo!” she called, hoping to catch the attention of the flute player.

“Halloo, yourself,” a voice replied, the echoes preventing her from figuring out where he was. And it was a man’s voice, bright and cheerful. It vaguely resembled Po’s voice; not in the lax grammar, or in the vocabulary, but in the cheerful tone.

“Where are you?”

“Right here!”

“Vague,” she muttered, “yet maddeningly unhelpful.” She cast her gaze to the horizon, circling, looking for the source of the voice. Ah, there he was. Perched atop a rocky outcropping, a flute as long as a walking staff held loosely in one hand. Hmmm. Tigress analyzed him. Human, long blond hair, muscles, devil-may-care smile… she couldn’t see his eyes from this distance- it only due to her excellent eyesight that she could see anything at all, even though he wasn’t that distant- but she supposed they’d be older than he looked.

“Well. Now, traditionally I’m supposed to play the role of the kooky hermit for a while, making you think I’m nothing but a mad old eremite, but I think we can ignore tradition for a bit, yes? My name…” he bowed, “…is Cord. And I am one of the guides. It is my task to guide you on your journey to find Zetan and the book. That suit you?”

“It suits,” she acknowledged. “I… would be glad of your aid,” she added, her pride smarting.

“Well. I’ll take you to the cave, then. We’ll have a nice cup of tea, and discuss things.”

(O)

“So,” Tigress said after the requisite courtesies of the tea drinking, “where can I find this Zetan?”

Cord’s brow twitched, as if one eyebrow was about to rise above the other, but thought better of it. “Would you like a general description, or should I draw you a map?”

“Both, for preference,” she replied, seemingly surprised he would ask.

“Well, description first, if you’ve no objection,” Cord drawled, setting hic drained cup down on one of the shelves that formed some of the décor in the Spartan cave. “The Isle of the Book of All Knowledge lies far out in the ocean, leagues from shore in any direction. The pathway to the ocean itself lies past forest and desert, mountain and plain.”

“Ah, of course. Naturally. Damp woods, wastelands, barren mountains, and bland prairie. And oceans. Miles and miles of ocean.”

Cord winced. “I forgot. Felines don’t like water.”

“I’m a tiger,” she countered. “We’re fine with water. It’s land that’s the problem, namely the lack of it.”

“You like land, do you?” Cord sounded amused.

“I am a tiger. We all do.”

“My sympathies,” he replied, grinning now. “You’ll soon be sick of it, as you’ll walk over half the land in China.”

*Yes, Cord’s comment about “Or should I draw you a map?” is a reference to Legolas in the Twin Towers movie saying “Or shall I fetch you a box?”