The Fist of the White Tiger

Author: Janna

The view that stretched out before him when he exited the Temple of Five Dawns was breathtaking. The afternoon sun bathed the lands below in a soft golden light that made the ponds and brooks, the paved paths and the roofs of the villages glisten with splendour. The young pandaren's heart was swelled with joy and sadness all at once. The events of the past few days had yet to fall into their proper place within his memory; as for the moment, his thoughts were scattered without a thread. Images would float by before his mind's eye of his old Master bidding him a last farewell in the wood of staves, of the blood (so much blood) gushing forth into the ocean from the wound the explosives had torn into the land. Images also of his friends, patting his shoulders and smilingly offering words of comfort.

Yan Yong dabbed at his eyes with the furry back of his paw. He mustn't show weakness, now that his great day had finally come. Descending the temple steps, his eye was drawn again to the lands below. As he would always do he searched the roads for lamplighters who were going about their business ensuring the street lamps would remain lit despite the heavy winds and rainfalls they had become used to as of the past few weeks. Most of the lamplighters were family. The Goldenglows went back many centuries and perhaps longer still. All of his family members took up the honourable trade as they reached maturity; all but himself.

For a while, when he was but a cub, he had expected to become a lamplighter himself. He would eagerly absorb all the tales his parents had to share with him. Lamplighters traded in stories: every door and every kitchen stood open to them, because they always knew to entertain. A honed form of art, they tailored their tales to perfectly fit each situation and setting, and never a day would go by where they did not make people laugh, or see them moved to tears. A lamplighter was always welcome company.

He had just reached the temple grounds below when a sudden tremor went through the earth beneath him. He felt his fur standing on end and his back tighten as he instinctively dug his paws into the ground and shifted his centre of gravity. But the ground had stopped shaking already. The seas are in unrest, he thought to himself and knowing what he did now about Shen-zin Su's condition, a nagging worry made his stomach clench up.

-

He arrived at his village an hour later, having taken many a detour to visit the places of his childhood once more before he would leave for the unknown. His mother opened the door for him when he knocked and embraced him briefly. He inhaled her flowery scent, and steeled himself against the regret that began to sweep over him.

After they had exchanged greetings and his mother had gone to fetch a large bowl of steaming hot soup for him, she seated herself on a cushion next to their low living room table, head bowed over an ancient looking tome, its pages yellowed and the ink nearly too faded to read. Yan knew that she had spent most of her day like this. Sitting opposite her, he leaned across the table to place his paw upon the pages. The greyed pandaren lady looked up at him, her golden eyes filled with yearning.

“The time has come, mother. Lyra, Chin Su and I will head for the shore together with the strange naked creatures who stranded here.”

His mother covered her mouth with both hands and looked at him as though she were about to cry tears of joy. He smiled. “Now now, don't cry, mother. I know you are proud of your son's achievements but my journey only just begins! Soon the whole world will know the name of the Fist of the White Tiger and the legends of my deeds will spread so rapidly they'll even reach you back home, I promise.”

“Oh, Yan Yong, I am sure they will, but if only you can bring my love back to me I care not about your fame, you will be the greatest hero to me who has ever lived.”

He dropped his gaze into his soup bowl and shifted uncomfortably on his cushion.

“Yes, mother, of course. I will travel far and wide to find father and when I have found him, I will persuade him to return to you at once.”

This appeared so satisfy her.

“I could not have been more blessed than with a son as strong and honourable as you, Yan. I can see it before my eyes now, when you meet your father and he hears that this formidable warrior is his son, he will be filled with pride and wish for nothing more than to rush back to my side and claim his rightful place. Here, please take this, it should help you on your search.”

With this, she closed the book she had been studying and pushed it across the table to him. His eyes widened and he shook his head urgently.

“Oh no, mother, please keep it, it means so much to you. You have shown me the pictures and read me the stories so many times, I recall all of them clearly.”, he assured her.

Yan Yong watched as conflicting desires made her hesitate. A feeling of pity took hold of him.

“I insist”, she said finally, pushing the book further toward him. “Take it. There is more to the stories than it seems, and if you should study them you may yet find clues about your father's whereabouts. He studied the writings of your great-great grandfather thoroughly and they were what inspired him to wander himself; he must have sought out the same places. And in these pages -”, she opened the book at the end, where the ink looked fresher and many drawings accompanied the writing. “- he wrote stories based on what he had gathered from the reading. My heart tells me that you will find the answer somewhere in his words, even if I cannot...”

Yan nodded and took the book as she had asked, unable to resist her heartfelt pleas.

“Leave it to me, mother. I will study it well and find whatever hidden meaning there may be. You know me, I never fail at a task I am given.”

She smiled and patted his paw with hers. “Yes, yes, my son. You are a gift of the heavens, a true miracle. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

A thought came to her and her ears gave a curious twitch.

“But don't let the neighbours see I gave you the book. They would ask questions.”

He furrowed his brow and looked at her quizzingly. “Do you still have them convinced father is working in another village?”

She nodded without any inclination of shame.

“I do and you know it is for the better. Nobody needs to know he has left. They would get the wrong idea, thinking he'd abandoned us.”

Yan Yong breathed a sigh and squeezed his mother's paw tightly.

“I understand. I will keep it quiet so nobody thinks worse of you, mother.”

-

They spent another hour talking pleasantly. His mother filled his pack with home cooked foods and snacks, while he brewed tea for them and told the tale of his recent adventures. She inquired about his relationship to his travelling companions, Chin Su and Lyra, and he described their temperaments to her in detail. “They are cubs still”, she said at one point, “but let them grow into their own more and one or the other may yet make a splendid woman for you.”

When the sun had sunk lower and the shadows grown long, he took his leave. The old tome safely at the bottom of his pack, and a piece of paper in his pocket with his mother's drawing of a bird. “I drew he bird that used to deliver letters from your great-great grandfather after the description in the book.” He reminded her that the bird would have been dead long since, much like his relative who had returned to the isle in his old years and died peacefully amongst his family. But again, she insisted, so he took the paper and promised to keep his eyes open for any such bird.

He kissed his mother goodbye, waved at the neighbours watching curiously from the doors of their houses, and turned to make his way back to the temple. After he had left the village, he broke into a bouncy run so to not make his friends wait for him. After all, what would come next was the most important task of his life; he was a man with a mission, the happiness of his family was upon his shoulders, and he felt strong enough to bear this burden. He, Yan Yong, the Fist of the White Tiger, and the first heir of the Goldenglow family not to become a lamplighter.