Challenge The Proud

The Apprentice

"Tomorrow ... remember yesterday." - Challenge No.28

YAO PULLED HIS SHIRT OFF and used it to wipe the sweat from his face and neck. But he didn't stop walking the narrow mountain path. There was no time for rest. He had to make it to the Old Temple before sundown.

With a swift twirl of his wrist, Yao wrapped the shirt around his head and once he was satisfied with it, he quickened his pace against the slope of the narrow, stony path. He thought about water and then he thought about food, and Yao promised to his dry mouth and empty stomach that there would be both waiting for him at the Old Temple.

A shiver ran over him. He couldn't remember where he had put the missive. His dusty fingers rummaged through the satchel. In a heart beat, the wind stole the pale parchment that hang from the sash around his waist. The document flew toward the edge of the mountain path. Yao leaped to grasp the precious missive and landed, face down, looking straight into the gaping mouth of the valley bellow. His shirt unraveled and slid off his head before he could catch it. Yao watched as the coarse linen drifted into the landscape, carried by the powerful winds, until it finally hid inside the lavish canopy of the trees inhabiting the vast valley below.

Yao's fingers squeezed the parchment. He had managed to save his document. His shirt could be replaced, but the official letter could not.

"A bad beginning makes a bad ending," Yao said with a nod, deciding to make no more mistakes.

He got up to his feet and patted the dust and pebbles off his bare chest and off his flax pants. It was important to look his best, and make a good first impression. Or else Master Nangong Li would be disappointed at the sight of such an uncouth apprentice. Yao folded the parchment and, taking great care not to damage it, he sunk it deep into his satchel where it would be safe.

* * *

His hands rubbed along his skinny arms, shivering with clattering teeth. It was just after sundown, but Yao could still make out the trees along the unkept mountain path. Only one li before he reached the Temple Gate. He had been telling himself that for the past two hours.

And there it was. Finally, the silhouette of the Old Shaolin Temple. A blue-gray mass of curves and ledges against the backdrop of the raising moon. With renewed strength, Yao ran to the gate. It was closed. He pushed with all his might and laughed with relief - it wasn't locked. He slipped between the two massive wooden doors and found himself inside the Temple.

"Your journey ends when you find what you need, and not what you want." Yao took slow, reverent steps across the main courtyard.

Scattered debris, broken pots and dead leaves blanketed the alleys that spread like fingers from the central court. He couldn't make out the smaller buildings, but the main Temple towered over him with its triple layered roof. Yao gasped, frozen into place. The roof charms stood crooked amid bald spots of missing tiles. A chill ran down his spine. For the first time, Yao considered the possibility that the temple had been abandoned.

He ran up the stairs and pushed open the door. A piercing stench of cabbage and fermented fruits engulfed his senses.

"Master Nangong! Master!" his voice cut through the dead silence surrounding him.

His bare feet treaded lightly and he could feel the dust and sticky remains of fruits coating his battered soles. He stopped right before the sky well and looked up at the pale moon light. It showered its silver light upon a withered tree.

Master Nangong had probably withered away as well. Hidden inside this place, above the villages in the valley, alone and forgotten. Yao's cheeks flushed and burned from the tears that rolled over them.