Jian's expression shifted from surprise to contemplation. He stroked his beard thoughtfully, considering Amilco's words. The recovery of the idol was a significant victory, and it seemed Ebony had played a crucial role.
Goto nodded in agreement. "Master, Amilco speaks the truth. Ebony has proven himself to be an ally, even if unintentionally. We cannot turn him away now."
Jian remained silent for a moment, weighing his concerns against the monks' pleas. He looked at Ebony, studying the young man's earnest expression.
"Ebony," he finally said, "you have indeed been of service to us. Your actions have aided in the recovery of a sacred artifact and the protection of our community. For that, we are grateful."
The monks, their faces beaming with gratitude, showered Ebony with praise for his unintentional contribution to their victory.
But Ebony himself remained silent, his expression blank. He didn't know how to react. He hadn't consciously chosen to help them, and the events of the past day had left him feeling numb and disoriented. He sensed that speaking out now might not be in his best interest, so he simply listened, his face betraying no emotion.
Seeing Ebony's role in recovering the idol, Master Jian warmed to the idea of letting him stay longer. "Perhaps we can invite you to join us for a meal to celebrate," he offered.
Amilco beamed. "Thank you, Master! You won't regret this. Ebony is a good soul." He turned to his friend, his voice full of warmth. "You're staying!"
Jian, however, remained cautious. "I am still not entirely familiar with your friend," he reminded Amilco. "I need to hear from him."
All eyes turned to Ebony. He spoke for the first time since entering the room, his voice quiet but firm. "Master Jian, I will remain respectful and not be a burden. I won't jeopardize your temple."
Master Jian nodded slowly. "Very well," he said. "You may stay." He paused, then added, "You may leave."
All three stood, Amilco and Goto helping Ebony rise from his chair. They bowed respectfully and exited the room, leaving Master Jian to his contemplation.
As the three walked out, Goto suggested, "Ebony, let's get you back to your room to rest."
Amilco chimed in, "Hey, I'll come with you!"
But Ebony, lost in thought, declined. "Not yet, man. Let me be alone for a bit." Something was bothering him, but he wasn't ready to talk about it.
"Don't you want your gold back?" Amilco asked, holding up the recovered bag of coins. "I have it all here, safe and sound."
"Maybe I'll come to your room later," Ebony replied, his voice distant.
"Okay," Amilco said, understandingly. "I'll meet you in a while, and we can have dinner together."
"That would be nice," Ebony said, a faint smile flickering across his lips.
As Goto led Ebony back to his room, the young bard took in the monastery's unique atmosphere. Ancient temples and serene gardens surrounded him, a blend of tranquility and vibrant energy. The rhythmic sounds of training echoed in the distance, a constant reminder of the monks' disciplined lifestyle. It was a world unlike anything Ebony had ever experienced, and a part of him felt strangely drawn to it.
Yet, a nagging feeling lingered in his heart. Something about the conversation with Master Jian had felt off. He had been the subject of discussion, yet he hadn't truly been a part of it. The monks had spoken on his behalf, making decisions about his future without truly understanding him. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
As they walked, Ebony caught sight of a group of female monks practicing in their own courtyard. They were divided into age groups, each group training with intense focus.
One young woman, in particular, caught his eye. Her movements were fluid and powerful, her energy almost tangible. A gust of wind, seemingly summoned by her training, swept past, nearly knocking Ebony off his feet.
The woman turned to look at Ebony, her expression shifting from focused intensity to surprise. She had clearly never seen anyone like him before. Her eyes widened as she took in his unfamiliar features and different skin tone, curiosity, and wonder, replacing her initial blank stare.
Ebony, startled by the sudden breeze and the intensity of her gaze, stumbled back. Their eyes met, a silent exchange passing between them, acknowledging their differences. She looked at him, not very intrigued but perplexed, speechless, and unenthused.
The young woman continued to stare, her expression unreadable. Ebony, feeling the weight of her gaze, offered a tentative smile. But she didn't smile back, her blank stare making him feel even more out of place. He quickly dropped the smile and continued walking with Goto. Goto, sensing the awkwardness, gently guided Ebony away. "Come on, let's go," he said softly.
Even as Ebony walked away, the young woman's gaze remained fixed on him. Her mind raced with questions. Who was this stranger? Where did he come from? What was he doing in their secluded monastery? She had never seen anyone like him before, and his presence sparked a flicker of curiosity within her.
◇
Ebony sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Hours had passed since his meeting with Master Jian, and despite the positive outcome – the bandits apprehended, his money recovered, the possibility of staying at the monastery – he couldn't shake a feeling of unease. He'd spent the intervening time resting and healing, his mind replaying the events of the past day.
He was grateful to Amilco and Mei for their help, but he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that things had unfolded outside of his control. Amilco had spoken for him, made decisions on his behalf, even lied to him about the red powder.
While Ebony understood his friend's intentions were good, it left him feeling like a pawn in their game. He craved autonomy, the ability to make his own choices and shape his own destiny. This feeling of helplessness, of being at the mercy of others, gnawed at him.
Ebony, unable to play his music, turned his attention to his newfound wealth. He carefully got out of bed and emptied his pouches onto the bed, meticulously counting each coin. He confirmed the 550 pearls were all there, though he wasn't sure if the 212 stolen by the bandits had been recovered. Adding those to the 900 Thomas was holding, he calculated a total of 1,612 pearl coins. He had exceeded his initial goal!
A wave of excitement washed over him. Even after paying for damages and supplies, he would have enough to live comfortably for months. He wanted to jump for joy, but his bruised body protested the mere thought of such exertion. He settled for a silent internal celebration, his spirits lifted by the promise of financial security.
Ebony's mind raced back to the weapons shop, the weight of that short sword in his hand. He could finally afford it, could finally become an adventurer. But then, the memory of the bandits surfaced, the sting of their blows still fresh on his bruised face. He realized that the world outside the monastery walls was filled with danger.
He shuddered, recalling the brutality of the attack. Those bandits could have killed him, and they probably would have if they hadn't been so focused on robbing him. The thought of facing such violence again sent a shiver down his spine.
Could he handle it? Did he have the strength, the courage, to protect himself in a world where such cruelty existed? The question lingered, casting a shadow over his newfound optimism for adventure.
Speaking of constantly Rob amilco God told him amen since you've been constantly since you should have gotten more than what you've actually got now, I actually put in a little more than. A little more in there so it may not be the actual coins that you actually have. I got you a little more than you should.
It's those bandages for too busy taking more out of your pockets than they should feeding themselves instead of them feeding you. Ebony was even more grateful for amilco. Ebony said, "Thank you, man, what you did for me? You saved me twice, maybe three times. I'll never forget it, man. Ebony gave him a hug.
"Hey buddy, if you need anything, I got you," Amilco said, his voice full of sincerity. "If someone's picking on you, if you need shelter, anything at all, just let me know."
Ebony hesitated, then spoke, hoping Amilco wouldn't refuse. "Do you think... could you teach me how to fight? Like you?" He looked at Amilco with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
Amilco's face fell slightly. "Oh, uh... you don't have to worry about that, man. I'll protect you."
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He felt a pang of responsibility for Ebony's safety, especially after the recent attack.
But Ebony was determined. He didn't want to rely on others for protection anymore. He wanted to be able to defend himself, to face the world with confidence.
Ebony looked down, disappointment washing over him. "I don't understand, man," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "Why won't you let me learn? It's like any topic about the Shaolin is off-limits. Why are you trying to shelter me? Don't you want me to train?"
Amilco sighed. "It's not that simple, Ebony. The Shaolin are built on secrecy. It's how we were trained, how we've always been. We keep our knowledge and techniques within the order."
"We don't teach outsiders because they could weaponize our teachings against us," Amilco explained.
Ebony fell silent, then asked, "Has this happened before?"
Amilco nodded grimly. "Yes." He recounted the story of their master,
Amilco's expression turned somber. "Our founder, Shuǐ zhī dào, inherited the Shaolin tradition from his father. It was a sacred trust, passed down through generations. He eventually married, and his wife, captivated by the art, convinced him to teach her.
They were happy, sharing this passion..." Amilco's voice trailed off.
"But then," he continued, "tragedy struck. Shuǐ zhī dào's wife vanished without a trace. He searched tirelessly, but she was gone.
Months later, a rival clan attacked their village. They fought with the skill and precision of Shaolin masters. It turned out Shuǐ zhī dào's wife had betrayed him, training the rival clan in secret."
Amilco's voice was heavy with sorrow.
"Shuǐ zhī dào's family – his parents, his siblings – were all killed in the attack. He survived, but the pain of loss and betrayal was immense. He eventually found his wife and... well, let's just say he took his revenge."
Amilco looked at Ebony, his eyes filled with understanding. "That's why we're so secretive, Ebony. That's why we don't teach outsiders. Shuǐ zhī dào learned a harsh lesson that day, a lesson that has shaped our order ever since."
Ebony listened intently, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He understood Amilco's hesitation, the deep-rooted reasons behind the Shaolin's secrecy.
But a nagging worry lingered in his mind. "But what about the times when you're not there?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "What if I'm attacked again and can't defend myself?"
Amilco placed a reassuring hand on Ebony's shoulder. "Trust me," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. "I won't leave your side. I'll protect you."
Ebony appreciated Amilco's loyalty, the bond of friendship they had forged. But deep down, he knew it wasn't enough. He yearned for the ability to protect himself, to face the world's dangers with confidence and skill, not to rely solely on the strength of others.
"I understand," he said, his voice resolute, "but I still want to learn."
Amilco hesitated, torn between his desire to help his friend and his deep respect for the Shaolin tradition. He cared for Ebony, but the teachings of his order were absolute. He could not break the sacred trust passed down through generations, even for a friend.
"I appreciate that, Amilco," Ebony said, his voice earnest, "but I want to learn how to fight. I don't want to be helpless ever again." He paused, the memory of the alleyway attack vivid in his mind. "I barely contributed to that fight. I was the only one injured, and I only survived because of you. I need to be able to defend myself."
He looked at Amilco, his expression pleading. "You can't always be there to protect me. You can't juggle saving yourself and saving me at the same time. It's just not possible. If you try to do two things at once, you'll fail at both."
Ebony's voice grew softer as he described his life in Iomud, the constant threat of violence, the struggle for survival. "I wasn't planning on staying there long-term," he confessed. "I was just trying to get by. But I hate living like that, always looking over my shoulder, always afraid. I don't want to just survive. I want to truly live, and not live in that garbage ever again.”
Amilco's voice was heavy with sorrow. "I can't do it, Ebony. It would be disrespectful to my master. Our founder doesn't train outsiders anymore. He lost so much of his family that day, a tragic choice he would never forget. It shattered his trust in people."
Ebony absorbed Amilco's words, then countered with his own perspective. "But your new family is outside the Shaolin, right? You're not related to your grandmaster?"
Amilco nodded. "That's right."
"And it took a long time for him to train anyone again, didn't it?" Ebony pressed. "It wasn't easy for Master Jian to earn that trust."
Amilco confirmed, "Yes, it took years."
"So, it's not about blood relation," Ebony concluded, a determined glint in his eye. "It's about trust. He doesn't train those who break his trust. Then, that's what I'll do. I'll earn his trust."
Amilco saw the determined glint in Ebony's eyes and felt a surge of unease. He didn't know what his friend was planning, but he had a bad feeling about it. As Ebony gathered his coins, carelessly sliding them all back into his bag, Amilco decided to intervene.
Amilco placed a hand on Ebony's shoulder, his expression serious. "Ebony," he began, his voice gentle but firm, "I understand your desire to learn to fight, to protect yourself. And you have every right to pursue that."
He paused, his grip tightening slightly. "But please," he continued, his voice earnest, "don't make this about proving something or trying to win over Master Shuǐ zhī dào. I brought you here to heal, not to jeopardize his trust. You're a guest here, and I ask you not to do anything that might reinforce his negative opinion of outsiders."
Ebony met Amilco's gaze, understanding the weight of his words. He knew Amilco was torn between loyalty to his friend and his deep respect for his master and the Shaolin traditions. "I understand," he replied, his voice equally serious. "I won't do anything to make things worse."
Amilco nodded, relieved. "Thank you," he said. "I trust you, Ebony." He gave his friend's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. "Now get some rest. You've had a long day." He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Amilco?"
"Yeah?"
"Will your grandmaster be at dinner?"
Amilco chuckled. "Of course. He never skips a meal."
Amilco left, the door clicking shut behind him. Ebony lay on the bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. His bag of coins rested beside him, a tangible reminder of his newfound security. He pondered his upcoming meeting with the grandmaster, unsure what to say, how to act. He wanted to earn the old master's trust, but he knew he had to tread carefully.
His eyes drifted to the broken lute on the table, a pang of sadness hitting him. He missed his music, the comfort and familiarity of his instrument. He felt lost, adrift in a world he didn't fully understand. With his arms folded across his chest, he surrendered to the silence.
Alone with his thoughts.
◇
The scene shifts to the monastery's bustling cafeteria. Monks of all ages fill the long tables, enjoying their meal with chopsticks and bowls. A variety of dishes, from steaming dumplings to colorful stir-fries, are spread across the tables.
At the head of the room, the masters engage in lively conversation, while at the center sits the grandmaster, a picture of serene authority. The atmosphere is one of camaraderie and contentment as everyone savors the delicious food and the shared company.
The monastery's cafeteria buzzed with activity. Monks of all ages sat at long wooden tables, enjoying their evening meal. Bowls and chopsticks clicked and clacked as they feasted on a variety of dishes: noodles made from black and yellow wheat, steaming bowls of rice, tofu, colorful vegetables, fragrant noodle soups, and fluffy steamed buns.
The younger monks, their faces alight with chatter and laughter, occupied one section of the hall. At the other end sat the masters, engaged in quiet conversation while savoring their food. And at the center of it all, presiding over the harmonious scene, sat the grandmaster, Shuǐ zhī dào, a picture of serene authority.
Amilco and Ebony found their places at the table, joining the lively chatter of the younger monks. Mei sat nearby with her friends, their conversation punctuated by laughter and playful banter.
Goto and the other senior monks occupied a separate table, their discussions more subdued and insightful, though the occasional joke or playful jab kept the atmosphere light.
The young woman whose powerful training had nearly blown Ebony over sat quietly with her peers, listening attentively to their conversation, occasionally offering a thoughtful comment.
Master Jian, a picture of stoic contentment, ate in peaceful silence, observing the lively scene with a subtle smile.
Ebony sat nervously, picking at his food. He was acutely aware of the grandmaster's presence, the weight of the upcoming encounter pressing on him. He knew he wanted to express his gratitude, but the words felt stuck in his throat.
He had to choose them carefully, make them meaningful, especially since he wasn't sure if the grandmaster even spoke his language. He glanced at his book bag beside him, a sudden idea forming in his mind.
"Yes," Ebony replied, "I have something to say to the Grandmaster."
Master Jian hesitated. "Unfortunately, we may have some trouble with translation. Perhaps you could speak to me instead?"
Ebony nodded. "That's fine. I also wanted to give you all something." He opened his bag, revealing the 550 pearl coins, plus the extra Amilco had given him.
He knelt before Master Jian, not in a simple bow, but in a gesture of deep respect, like a subject addressing an emperor. With his hands outstretched, he offered the bag of coins. "I am grateful for your generosity," he said. "Please accept this as a donation to your monastery."
Master Jian was speechless. He had never witnessed such a gesture from an outsider, especially one who had been robbed and injured. He accepted the coins with a grateful nod. "Thank you," he said, deeply touched. "I will inform the Grandmaster of your generosity."
He rose and approached Shuǐ zhī dào, whispering a translation of Ebony's offering. The grandmaster's eyes widened in surprise. He had been so focused on his meal and the lively atmosphere that he hadn't even noticed Ebony until this moment.
Now, he looked at the young man, his gaze lingering on his unfamiliar features and different skin tone. Ebony was clearly an outsider, someone from beyond the world the grandmaster knew.
The Grandmaster rose and, with a gesture to Jian, approached Ebony. Jian translated the Grandmaster's words: "He is grateful for your donation, but he wishes to know where you come from."
Ebony, surprised by the direct address, straightened his posture. He felt a surge of hope. Perhaps this was his chance to make a connection, to show the Grandmaster he was more than just an outsider.
"It is an honor to meet you, Grandmaster," Ebony began, his voice filled with respect. "I was a noble prince of the Kingdom of Dimito, but I never cared for it. I always felt more in tune with the common people, like my mother.
My father disapproved and wanted me to focus on my noble duties, but I refused. So, nine months ago, he cast me out, leaving me to fend for myself."
Ebony continued, his voice taking on a somber tone. "I had nowhere to go, so I ended up living in a hut in Iomud. It was a far cry from the life of a prince. I lived in dirty alleyways, surrounded by bandits who constantly robbed me. But even though I miss my old life sometimes, I'm open to new adventures.
I find your culture fascinating, and I would gladly donate everything I have if you would teach me how to defend myself. But if you can't trust me enough to do so, I understand. Thank you for your hospitality."
Master Jian carefully translated Ebony's words, conveying the young man's sincerity and desperation. The Grandmaster listened intently, his expression unreadable. A silent conversation passed between the two masters, their eyes conveying a complex mix of emotions and considerations.
Ebony watched, his heart pounding. He knew his fate hung in the balance. Would they accept him? Or would he be cast out once more?
Finally, Master Jian spoke. "Thank you for your donation," he said, his voice neutral. "We will put a lot of thought into your circumstances. For now, please get some rest and enjoy your meal."
It wasn't the answer Ebony had hoped for, but he accepted it with a respectful bow. "Thank you, Master Jian," he replied, a hopeful smile flickering across his face. He returned to his table, his appetite renewed by a glimmer of possibility.
As Ebony sat down, Amilco's jaw dropped. "I didn't know you were a prince!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise.
Ebony chuckled. "Not a prince," he corrected, "a noble."
"Wow," Amilco breathed, his eyes wide with curiosity. "What was it like?"
"It's not as glamorous as it sounds," Ebony replied with a shrug, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.
The other monks at the table, eager to join the conversation, leaned in, peppering Ebony with questions and greetings, despite the language barrier.
Amilco, happy to see his friend welcomed, did his best to translate, a broad smile plastered on his face.
Mei approached the table, her expression softer than usual.
"Hey," she said to Ebony, her voice carrying a note of sincerity, "thank you for donating to our monastery and respecting our ways."
"Thank you for saving my life, Mei," Ebony replied, meeting her gaze with gratitude. "And for not leaving me in that alley." He raised his fist playfully, a gesture of camaraderie.
Mei hesitated, unsure how to respond. She looked down, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. "I also wanted to apologize for what I said about you earlier," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I shouldn't have judged you."
Ebony, touched by her genuine apology, smiled warmly. "It's okay, Mei," he assured her. "I understand. And I appreciate your apology." He lowered his fist, sensing her discomfort with the unfamiliar gesture. "Don't worry," he added with a wink, "you'll get it eventually."
Mei joined the table, acting as a translator for the other monks.
The young woman with the powerful wind abilities glanced at Ebony, then returned to her meal. Her expression remained unreadable, a mix of indifference and perhaps a hint of disapproval.
Her fellow monks whispered amongst themselves, curious about the stranger in their midst. "Who is he?" one asked. "He looks like he has nothing," another commented. "Maybe he's just visiting," a third suggested, "hoping to tell his friends how great this place is so we get more donations."
The young woman remained aloof, her thoughts a mystery to those around her. She didn't know what the future held for this stranger, whether he would stay or leave.
But she preferred the familiar solitude of the monastery, undisturbed by outsiders. If he stayed, she would adapt, but she wouldn't go out of her way to welcome him. With a shrug, she returned to her meal, her focus shifting back to the familiar comfort of her own company.
"So, how are you going to play street performances without your lute?" Amilco asked, concerned.
Ebony shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll find a new instrument or try to get it repaired, though I doubt that's possible." He paused, a hopeful glint in his eye. "But in the meantime, maybe you could teach me some fighting techniques?"
Amilco grinned. "I'll teach you how to fight if you teach me how to play the strings." He raised his hand towards Ebony, solidifying their deal with a handshake.