Soulmates Beyond Time
Sing Ling knew he was not where he should be. The mist flowing around him spoke of other realms. This place frightened him.
"Where am I? Is anyone there?"
He called out into the mist but no answer came. Sing Ling tried to calm himself and reach out with his Chi. Since being confirmed as the rightful Emperor of China, he could feel his life force grow stronger, as if he was a Shaolin. But something was not right. He could not sense his body. His Chi was somewhere trapped, disconnected from the rest of him. How was that possible? Someone was responsible and Sing Ling knew if his Chi and body were not reunited, his body would soon die. His Chi would either be trapped within this world of fog or he would find himself within the Bardo. Without his body, the Bardo would only serve one purpose, to hold the lost souls until someone was to come and show a path out of that world or to die, but not back to the source of all things. Sing Ling tried to remember his life but it was blurred as if seeing through an unfocused lens. Did he manage to ask for help? He did not know. As Sing Ling wandered in the fog, a coldness could be felt. There was a presence there that Sing Ling did not want to know. He hoped that those who were on the outside had done whatever it was he asked them to do. And help would soon be on its way.
*****
Mai Chi woke to the smell of strong tea. The young man called Peter sat next to her. Concern was in his face. Another moved closer holding a small cup, the Ancient. He handed it to the young man who then in turn, brought it to her lips.
"Drink it slowly."
Mai Chi did as the young man told her. The tea tasted bitter but her mind was soon clear of the chaotic thoughts dancing through her head like leaves in a strong breeze.
"Can you sit up?"
Mai Chi nodded and proceeded to sit. Surprise and puzzlement was on her face but the shock of learning who this young Shaolin was had disappeared.
"Now, tell me who you are and why you have come."
"My name is Mai Chi. I am the liason for the Emperor, Sing Ling."
It was Peter's turn to be surprised. Mai Chi? There was only one other with that name and she had lived back in the past, during the first temple. Peter recalled the memories. At first, he believed it had been a dream, but the ache in his heart at having left Mai Chi injured had been all too real. He spoke with his father about her and his father tried to reassure him that some day, they could meet, again. Peter did not know whether to believe him at that time. Now, Peter searched this woman's face and then reached gently out with his Chi. What he found gave him hope. Her essence was the same. Pulling back, he then saw her face more clearly. This woman even looked like her but younger. Peter was shaken out of his thoughts when the young woman spoke of her mission.
"Please, I had come here seeking the Shaolin, Kwai Chang Caine because the Emperor has fallen ill."
"Sing Ling, what happened?"
"No one knows. We have tried everything. Nothing has worked to revive him. I believe this illness is not ordinary. He commanded me to find Caine and ask for help."
"I was his bojaya while he was here," Peter stated. "Maybe there is something I can do."
"I do not know. He needs a healer."
Taking a silent hint from Ping Hai, "Lo Si may be able to help. He's the best apothecary in Chinatown."
Rather than speak of his own involvement with the Emperor, Lo Si merely said, "I would be honored to help. We first must know what we are dealing with, if this illness is not ordinary. Peter, you must reach out your Chi and learn the truth."
"From here?"
"Your father trained you well. You are the next generation. Each generation is said to be stronger than the last. Without your aid, your father would not have survived, remember?"
"I remember," and Peter thought back just two weeks ago. His father fighting himself in a last test as a Shambhala Master, his energy depleted, learning that only a full Shaolin could possibly aid him, learning that the brands were more than just symbols on a cauldron, learning to be fully Shaolin was his destiny. Then with Lo Si standing by his side, Peter took the brands and without letting the pain dissipate, rushed to give his father the energy he needed. Why he did not question, he did not know. Lo Si surely could have aided his father far better. Lo Si, now Ping Hai again, was after all a Shambhala Master. He could not recall why Lo Si did not help his father, only that he said he could not. Someday, he would ask Ping Hai why. But until then, they needed to know what was causing Sing Ling's illness.
"You must take these herbs." Ping Hai had mixed what looked like an herbal butter. Several herbs, roots, and honey were used to create the paste. Ping Hai placed some of it on a leaf. The leaf was also an herb, to aid in the process. Peter took the mixture and discovered that not all herbal concoctions had to be bad tasting to work. Then Ping Hai took some himself. "Just in case, you may draw upon my energy."
"Thank you, Lo Si."
Before Peter settled on the floor, there was one additional item in the room that Mai Chi had not noticed. It was a small stereo CD player. Peter went to the player and placed in one of the cassette slots a tape and turned it on. A single instrument could be heard; its haunting and familiar music drifting upward and outward to surround the room. Before Caine left, Peter asked his father if he could record some of the music his father would play on his flute. The music seemed to help Peter to relax and to meditate. Many of Peter's own musical selections contained music played on various types of flutes, one being by Zomphere, panpipes. Some asked Peter at one time why he would always choose music such as this to relax by. As the music drifted out into the room, a memory had been stirred that he had forgotten. His father would sometimes play the flute by his bedside when he could not sleep or when he was sick. As far back as he could remember, the sound of the flute had always been there. Giving him comfort, relaxing his soul.
Peter settled down into a half lotus position. He let his mind drift and tried to clear away any extraneous thoughts. Soon he began to drift out from his body and into another world. This was the world of the spiritual traveler. He found himself being drawn. For one brief instant he was aware of another's presence, helping to guide him on his path. Warning him of possible danger. Then Peter reached where he could find Sing Ling's Chi but instead he found a wall of mist. The mist seemed alive and yet had the feel of death around it. He tried to penetrate it but he was driven back, as if his Chi was not welcomed there. As Peter searched, he became aware of another's presence. It was not the guide that assisted him. This presence was filled with hatred and revenge. The essence of this particular presence felt familiar to Peter though he could not tell from where he knew it. Then Peter was aware that this presence possessed more than just hatred and revenge. He was using the souls of others to gain what he wanted. One he gave false memories and even now tried to control those thoughts and their direction. The other was a prisoner, even now was showing signs of growing weak. Peter pushed farther into the mist to learn who this presence was and whose souls he had taken. Suddenly the presence forced Peter back and a voice boomed out.
"YOU WILL NOT STOP ME THIS TIME. THE GAME MUST CONTINUE TO ITS CONCLUSION SHAOLIN! YOU CANNOT HOPE TO PASS THIS TEST. BEGONE! YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!"
Peter found himself back within his own body and suddenly knew just who they were dealing with before he blacked out. Peter came to as the bitter taste of tea made by Ping Hai was poured between his lips.
"What did you learn, young Caine?"
Peter drank the rest of the tea to give him time to recount what had transpired.
"It would seem we are involved in another Dragon's Lair, and I don't know if I have to power to stop it."
"What is a dragon's lair?" Mai Chi asked with concern and fright in her eyes. For some unknown reason she feared for the safety of this young man far beyond her own.
Peter did not know where to begin. He thought back to the game that four teenagers were playing; a game that proved to be more than just a simple Chinese version of D & D. The game had a way of manipulating those who played it and those represented by certain game pieces. Peter remembered he had played the same game back at the temple, not realizing its evil intent. His father had broken the spell that time by dumping over the game board. Peter had done the same thing when the teenagers were playing the game while his father went to the source. Now it would seem it was Peter's turn to take on the Game Master, Wei Ch'i, but Peter feared there would be no way to stop him this time, because no one knew who was playing the game.
End of Part 4
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2000.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from
the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
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