Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel) (28 page)

“No,” replied Tenzin. He went over to a wall, this one devoid of furniture and rusting metal, and pulled the tarpaulin covering a section of it. Moss and dust spread out like a cloud.

Over the wall was a spray-painted symbol. It was a circle within a circle, and runes etched in-between the two. In the middle of everything, I recognized one giant Chinese character that I remembered meant ‘gate’. The whole arrangement was twice the size of Tenzin, more than ten feet long and wide.

“Behind this gate is a pocket universe I created using the style of the Ryugyu Temple,” explained Tenzin as he placed a palm on the circle and channeled energy into it. The circles began rotating like gears, one spinning clockwise, the other counter-clockwise. The runes glowed and the ‘gate’ character dissolved into a mass of light that warped in on itself.

“This is my own personal paradise,” continued Tenzin, “and I do believe it is time I shared it with someone else.” He took my hand and together, we walked through the light.

Tenzin wasn’t kidding when he said it was a paradise. Stepping into that pocket dimension was mind-boggling and elating at the same time. I was raised in a house full of warlocks, so I had no problem accepting the fact that a completely different universe, even a small one like this, was hanging out within our dimension. I wasn’t completely sure of how that worked, but I could look past it. What really grasped my full attention was the scenery. We emerged on an open plain covered with grass, smooth and silky. In the distance was a small patch of trees, and a river which flowed until it reached a large pond. At the other side of the pond water flowed out again, a snake of clear liquid that disappeared in the horizon. There seemed no end to the plain of grass. Tenzin cocked his head and began walking. I shook myself out of my daze and followed him. The air smelt of grass and budding flowers, like an eternal spring. The sun wasn’t too hot or bright, just perfect. We walked along until we reached a footpath. We walked and walked, bending and twisting as the path spiraled onward. Finally, we reached the top of a hill. I walked to the very edge and peered down. The edges were jagged like a cliff, and for a second a touch of vertigo overtook me. Steeling myself, I focused on the scene in front of me instead.

It was beautiful.

All around me, a sea of green grass waved gently in a breeze that did nothing except soothe the senses. Sunlight gave each blade of grass a bright verdant color, which no photographer or artist could ever duplicate. Just gazing at the beauty before me made me feel… humbled. I felt like I could cry over seeing this, like I didn’t deserve to even feast my eyes on such beauty. It was truly a paradise.

I heard Tenzin rustle the grass as he approached me. “This is a sinless world of beauty and serenity.” His tone was hushed, reverential. “This is where you will learn the true meaning of peace.”

I didn’t say anything. If I had opened my mouth I would have wailed and cried, and I wasn’t sure I could stop. So I merely nodded and thanked him silently. Thoughts of darkness never even entered my mind.

This was the one place where Alastair Crowley would never find me.

I always knew that I never wanted to become a priest and training with Tenzin did nothing to change that opinion. If anything, he made me hate the lifestyle completely.

Once you get over the fact that we were training in an artificial universe that can only be described as a nature photographer’s wet dream, it becomes quite hellish.

Time flows differently in every dimension. But six in the freaking morning is horrible no matter what universe you’re in.

We would get up and begin a set of exercises. Sort of kinesthetics-meets-yoga in an exercise I like to call Does-Erik-Bend-This-Way. Then, once I managed to fold myself like an origami paper, the physical regimen would start. I was used to the running, the pushups, the treetop acrobatics and other stuff. Swimming was a new one. Tenzin would make me swim down the length of the river, and I could swear that the sly old bastard would alter the current of the water. Once the water level rose, thanks to my sweating, I was allowed to have a break.

An hour or two later the combat training began. Tenzin looked old, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t kick some serious ass. We delved into every style he knew — aikido, karate, kung fu, you name it. It was horrible. Nothing I knew worked on him. It was like all that training I did as a child served as nothing more than a distraction compared to his skills.

Sometimes, he would tie a blanket or a tarp around a tree trunk and make me punch and kick it.

“The point of this is not to strengthen your body. That can be easily done with a few physical exercises.” He would pace around gently, letting the breeze direct him, watching my every move. “This is a test of the mind. Focus everything into that strike. Your body and mind have to work as one.” Gone was the gentle hermit, replaced by a drill sergeant with a powerful, commanding voice.

One day he interrupted the routine and asked me about my magic. I told him about the curse again.

“So, it is limited to just your body, yes?”

“Right,” I said. My breathing was heavy, and I felt like crap. Whatever he wanted to say, it was a godsend. At least, now, I could catch my breath.

Tenzin’s eyes closed, a sign of deep thought. “Give me your hand.” His fingers curled gently around my palm. “Please focus all your magic on your hand.”

I raised my eyebrows, remembering the pain I felt when I tried using magic after the phoenix incident. It seemed like a million years ago.

But Tenzin’s eyes made me trust him, and so I did. Pain flared from my shoulder all the way to my fingertips. I jerked my hand back and shook in agony.

“What was that supposed to achieve?” I nearly yelled. The pain had driven me to my knees.

Tenzin remained unfazed. “It gave me a reading of your aura.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I shot back, cradling my arm.

“It may be the key to helping you use magic again.”

That piqued my interest. “And what makes you think you know how to reverse this curse?” I asked as I stood.

“I never said I could reverse it,” explained Tenzin gently. “But you can work
with
it.”

“How?”

“Well, your healing ability is the key here. Your body automatically drives energy toward the location of an injury. This seems to be an unconscious reflex. But what if you could control it? What if you could channel just a small bit of energy into your fist as you punch, thereby increasing your power?”

“Beats the whole point if I’m rolling in pain,” I replied.

“Pain and energy are related. Control one, and you control the other.”

“You sure this will work?”

Tenzin took a long pause and looked at me from head to toe. I still cradled my arm, shivering as spasms of pain went through me. My clothes were in desperate need of replacing, and I looked like a battered mess.

“Yes, I am sure it will, provided you believe it will work,” replied Tenzin with a slight nod. “And that is not all. Your aura extends from your body by approximately thirty centimeters. I believe that with the proper training, you can use magic as long as it is limited to that area.”

“And can you give me this proper training?”

Tenzin smiled slyly. “You have been doing it all along.”

And thus began the third stage of my training. It went from a physical stage to one that required more brain-power and attention than just your average fight session. Sometimes, we would forgo the use of the tree altogether. Tenzin would make me assume a fighting position and guide me through.

“This is called ‘meditative fighting’, also known as shadow boxing,” he said when he first introduced me to this. “Assume the fighting stance. Picture the motion in your head. Feel it, live it. Now, execute the motion and focus all your being into the exact point of impact.”

I spent the first two weeks barely able to move an inch, let alone punch. Tenzin had shown me a
kata
, a sequence of moves he wanted me to finish.

Day one had me down by the first step. But, as the weeks passed, I noticed that I managed to complete the sequence, one excruciating inch at a time. The pain became less, until all that was left was a dull throbbing, like a reminder that I was toying with stuff I couldn’t fully understand. Once I could do it without stopping, Tenzin began to join me.

It was fairly basic once you get down to it — position, concentrate, strike. Repeat.

Tenzin would do the same thing, except he would mutter something during the concentration part. It wasn’t the ethereal sound I usually hear when someone casts a spell – rather, this sounded like syllables and vowels, something I could emulate if I could get my tongue to roll the right way. I asked Tenzin about it once I got used to most of the sequence, wanting to learn about the strange chant.

“It’s not magic,” he replied with a smile. “When magic is used, the language spoken cannot be deciphered by human ears. It is a long-lost language, a language that is not human, but purely natural. Understanding the language and consciously speaking it means that one has complete control over the nature of magic itself. It means that you
are
magic itself.” He paused for a breath. “No, Erik, my words aren’t magic. This is simply a Buddhist chant.”

“Why?”

“Because the true meaning of that exercise is gratitude,” he said. “Every day, I pray my thanks to
Kami-sama
in the form of that sequence.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Sure.”

There were a lot of vowels strung together like a monotonous chant, but I never regretted my decision to learn it. It was the perfect distraction from the dull throbbing, and to be honest I did feel something every time I moved and exhaled a vowel, like a tuning fork resonating perfectly.

It may have taken him a few weeks, but Tenzin never backed down on his promise of helping me find serenity in this place.

Two months. That’s how long we lived in that paradise. Occasionally we would stroll outside in the real world for errands and such, but really, who would live in such a stinky, concrete-filled and polluted world when you could live in paradise without anyone else to bother you?

I mean, once you get over the painful training and never-ending philosophy lessons with an old Asian man, life was pretty sweet.

But all good things come to an end, and this one was going to crash and burn.

Tenzin woke up one morning and sat down to meditate as he usually did. A few minutes later he was by my side.

“Erik, we must leave.” His tone was urgent. “I believe I sense a danger in the city that is harming humans. We must stop it.”

I was still groggy from my sleep. “What are you, a police scanner? What makes you so sure?”

“I have my methods,” he replied. “And I resent the police scanner comment.” He winked at me. “If anything, I would prefer to be called God’s Radar.”

“This is it?” I said. “This is where your supposed danger is?”

We stood in front of a Victorian house straight out of a portrait. Colorful paint and a big front yard, all surrounded by a black gate. On the left was a flat, one-story house, which I suppose served as a storage room of sorts. The main house looked like something out of Disney. It even had that beige and brown paint, as if the architect’s inspiration was a picture book. Heck, it even had a pretty clock tower. All that was missing was a sign that said, ‘You must be this tall to ride’.

Except this was no fun ride. It was the Carson Mansion, a milestone Victorian monument, and never open to the public.

“You want us to find a monster in there?”

Tenzin squinted at the house. “I do not believe that I am mistaken,” he said after a while.

“If we go in there, we’ll get arrested,” I said off-handedly. Truth be told, I had always made it a point to stay away from the authorities. I was a rich, privileged kid and a street bum all rolled in one – precisely the two types of people the police hate dealing with.

Besides, with my attitude they’d probably shoot me just to shut me up.

“Why would that be?” asked Tenzin. I suppose in a temple in the mountains with a lifestyle of a priest and a hippie, the concept of private property wasn’t a priority.

“It’s private property. That house has never been open to the public. It’s some kinda country club or whatever, only reserved for the rich and famous,” I replied.

“Are you not rich and famous?”

“I’ve lived in a forest and on the streets. What do you think?”

“But your name carries significance.”

“Only to the magical community,” I replied.

“Should we not simply ask to be allowed in, then?” asked Tenzin.

“We’ll be shot on the spot.”

“Why is that?”

“We look homeless.”

“Let us break in, then.”

“If we damage anything, it’s our heads on a platter,” I replied.

“Even if we save the inhabitants from danger?”

“Funny how people think, huh?”

Tenzin shook his head. “Man has always placed too much importance on tangible materials, often at the expense of irreplaceable things.” He began walking away from Carson Mansion, slowly moving along the sidewalk. I stayed by his side.

“The monster I sense here reflects that greed,” he continued. “A
Yokai
is born out of greed and lust for power. It takes the shape of a heart-broken woman, usually wearing white. She is surrounded by small licks of blue flames. These are the souls of her victims. In life, her soul died because of greed and misery. In death, she seeks to satisfy her hunger by consuming the souls of others. But once she eats too much, the blue fire of the soul will incinerate her and destroy her.”

“Then, why are we hunting her?” I asked. “Let’s just wait until she burns up.”

Tenzin’s stern expression appeared again. “She will kill again and again, Erik, until she reaches her limit. That may be a hundred victims from now. Are you willing to wait until a hundred people die?”

I shook my head. If there was ever a Nobel Prize for guilt-tripping people, Tenzin would bring home the gold for sure.