A Touch of the Master's Hand

Banana Tree

A crack of light shone down into a darkened space. This darkened space happened to have a barred cell at the bottom— a small but not overly dingy brig. Actually, it was fairly clean aside from a little dust. The late afternoon sun filtered in through a small barred window that had a view that would soon become a glorious sunset. The cot was even cushioned and had a blanket with "Ninjago Resorts" written on it in classic Ninjargon along the side. An umbrella in a brightly colored cocktail resting on a beach was woven into it. A fluffy pillow was under that, but as though the cot was made of stone and the cell floor filled with rat dropping and a thin layer of grime, Kinkomi stood rigidly, glaring up at the sudden new crack of light at the top of the short staircase through his one good eye. The other eye was swollen shut and inky blue.

Once the door had opened all the way a tall shadowy figure could be seen only in silhouette, and it was quite the silhouette with a kabuto-style helmet and double-stacked chest— not to mention the four arms.

"I hope you like prison," breathed Garmadon ominously.

"Hmph," was all Kinkomi said in response with a pout.

"The South Island Prison gets all the most interesting patrons." There was a sneer in his voice now, but it lost just a little of its dangerous edge as he stifled a slight chuckle.

"Yes, I'm sure it does," Kinkomi remarked.

"Yeah," said Garmadon with a lazy stretch. "I hear they actually have some Serpentines still lurking around in there. Maybe you'll join them if you make them mad enough to bite ya."

"What do you want, Garmadon?"

"Oh, I just came to tell you something..." said Garmadon mysteriously.

"What? Be done with it. I'd rather be in the company of snakes than you, anyway."

Scratching the side of his head with one hand and stifling a yawn with two, he said, "Just this..." Then he cleared his throat, "Now who's the butt?!"

Kinkomi rolled his eyes as Garmadon broke out in loud laughter, but his laughter was cut short by the appearance of another silhouette, shorter to be sure, but with a station of its own, especially with that very nice bamboo hat and a staff that tapped Garmadon's foot just hard enough to get his point across.

"Ouch!" Garmadon stopped.

"Grow up," said Wu.

As Master Wu turned, Garmadon made a googly-eyed face with his tongue sticking out.

Wu frowned. "I saw that. I was just going to tell the prisoner where we were taking him."

Garmadon grinned. "Too late, beat you to it, baby brother."

Wu rubbed his temple.

#

Lloyd could almost feel the weight of the fruit hanging from his head. He did not know where he was, nor had any perception of time, but he felt them and he groaned.

Could he already be planted in Kinkomi's garden?

Surely, that was why he could not see anything. He had been glazed over of any of his senses that had turned completely into plant-cells. He mind mulled this groggily over with dull sorrow; though he did not realize just how profound it was that he could think at all. The last time his eyes had been open he could barely recognize his own father, but he did not remember than at the moment.

He remembered something else, though, after he felt a little warmth upon his head too. Maybe it was komorebi. He did not think hard enough to perceive it well, but it reminded him suddenly of his mother. More specifically his mother's arms. Most specifically, he remembered his mother's arms when he first returned to her after his months of "rehabilitation" under Master Wu when he had run away from home to follow in his father's footsteps as an insane warlord of doom and had realized almost too late what that meant.