Chapter 17: Chapter 017 – The Young Master of the Fire Mountain Turtle Sect

At first, Micro intended to inform the men of their mistake, but before he shouted out to get their attention, he recalled the words of a police officer his owner had once spoken with outside a family restaurant.

“Oh no… Those people are car thieves!” Micro gasped.
“They steal cars and resell them overseas… This is bad…”

Micro’s imagination was soon overloaded by the thought of him being driven around by a stranger in a foreign land where he didn’t recognize a single road or sign, but the dull pain in his hands reminded of something else.

“I need to get out of here…” Micro whispered to himself as he began to strain the muscles in his arms until he thought they would burst. But the rope didn’t budge.

As he wondered what he should do, the men around the fire gradually tired, and soon they had slipped into their tent for the night, leaving him alone in the cold, too far from the smouldering fire to enjoy any of its heat, and too far from the leftover meat above it to enjoy any of its oily flavours.

He stared longingly at the meat for what felt to his stomach like an eternity, then suddenly his attention was drawn to the ember beneath as a small twig suddenly caught fire, burning away in moments with a flicker of orange light.

“I wonder…” Micro whispered and closed his eyes.

Even faster than last time, he was able to enter that dark place in his mind where nothing existed but him and the falling rain. But there was no rain. He listened and listened, but not a single raindrop could be heard and no puddles came into sight. However, once he’d all but given up on searching for the energy he knew could be found in rain, he heard a distinct crack.

It was distant, but he knew it well.

“The fire!” He cried out with his inner voice.
“What if…”

As he’d practiced before when trying to gather energy from the rain, he began to hone his senses in on the fire burning nearby. First, he heard the crackling embers that popped and sizzled every time a bit of fat dripped down from the meat suspended above it. Next he saw its faint glow, an eerie swirling light that didn’t quite look like the fire he’d seen with his eyes open.

He held his hand out, wondering how he could reach it, but the energy in the coals seemed to respond to his will before he had even tried to move. Out of fire came tiny sparks that flickered as they swirled around in the air, and most of them were now floating gently towards Micro’s outstretched hand. He feared they would be painful to touch, like the energy of the falling rain was, but when the first spark reached his hand, it only tickled.

“That actually feels nice…”

One by one, the faintly glowing sparks, came to rest in the palm of his hand. The glittering energy in his hand increased as the sparks continued to float towards him, and eventually he felt he’d gathered a similar amount of it to the time he’d pulled it out of a puddle, although this time it felt like a much gentler process.

He snapped out of the trance-like state he’d fallen into while watching the sparks flickering and began to close his hand around the glowing mass. He made a fist around it and gripped it ever more tightly until it became difficult to ignore the heat his actual hand was feeling. He rallied himself to open his eyes and returned to his uncomfortable seat next to the tree he was tied to, and sure enough, he could smell smoke wafting up from behind him.

His hand stung with the heat of the energy he’d gathered, but he allowed it to smoulder until he felt the rope around his hand loosen. When the heat did become unbearable, he tugged on the rope as hard as he could, and it finally gave way, disintegrating at the point where his hand had singed its thick fibers.

Now free, he turned to leave, but what came into his sight as he started walking was far too tempting to leave behind. Trying his best not to rustle any leaves or snap any twigs, he walked slowly over to the campfire’s remains where several chunks of meat were leftover on the sticks used to support them. He reached out to grab the stick, pulled it out of the ground at an angle, and dug into it. Again, the juices flowed into his stomach and warmed his body right down to his bones. Waves of oily pleasure washed away all his concerns over who was trying to steal or sell him.

He took bigger and bigger bites, unable to pace himself as he got better and better at chewing his food. He had nearly reached the bone at the centre of the piece he was eating before he noticed the sound of footsteps behind him.

He threw the meat aside and started running as fast as he could, and the voices of three men cried out after him. Micro didn’t look behind him, but could tell by the volume of their voices that he couldn’t afford to slow down. He was surprised at how quickly his body was able to accelerate compared to his experience back home, but he quickly found his top speed to be lacking.

“I thought I told you to tie the brat up!” A furious voice thundered behind him.

“I did! There must have been something wrong with the rope!” A defensive voice followed.

“Don’t blame me! The rope wasn’t burnt when I gave it to you!” Another argued.

“Just get him!”

“Get his feet!”

The three men scrambled after him as he beelined through the trees without any thought of stopping. With every step he ran, he could only hope his foot landed somewhere flat, barely able to see anything but the fuzzy silhouettes of trees and boulders.

“Ha…” He panted.
“If I had a temperature gauge…”

His complaints found no ears as the sweat poured from his face and the muscles in his legs burned, but for all his efforts, the men were still close behind him.

“Hmm? What’s happening?” A tiny, trembling voice suddenly rang out from his jostling pocket.
“Ow, stop jumping around!”

Blue popped her sleepy head out from behind his armour and looked around, slow to take in the situation.

“We’re running away now.” Micro panted in reply.
“Car thieves!”

“Thieves?” Blue’s ears perked up, and she crawled up to peek over his shoulder, quickly noticing the three scary looking men right behind him.
“I leave you alone for… oh, forget it.”

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She turned around and looked into the darkness for a while, then pointed her little finger to the right.

“There’s a cave over there.” She sighed.
“That’s probably your best bet… Goodnight…”

With that, she retreated back into Micro’s warm pocket to continue her rest. Micro quickly changed his course, confusing the men only for a moment, and hoped the cave would offer him somewhere to hide. Micro wondered if he was burning through the oil he’d consumed too quickly, but could only hope the fuel would last him until he reached the cave.

He saw the faint outline of a rocky hill up ahead, confirming that he was still headed in the right direction, and he began to scan the area for an entrance to the cave, or at least a parking space where he might be able to hide. But the next thing he felt was oddly familiar.

All of his momentum was instantly dispelled when a hand as hard as steel grabbed him by the arm, twisting it behind his back, and the cold edge of a very long knife was pressed against his neck. It happened so fast that even his breathing couldn’t catch up with the chaos of it all.

“You can’t sell something…” he struggled to speak and catch his breath at the same time.
“...that isn’t yours!”

The hand grabbing him felt like a permanent fixture in the world around him, unmoving and unmovable, but the cold edge of the blade was almost welcome after nearly overheating.

“Who dares interrupt the young master of the Fire Mountain Turtle Sect on his quest?!” An unfamiliar voice suddenly boomed. It was the voice of a young man, but it was more powerful than any voice Micro had ever heard.

“Young who?” Micro stuttered, his eyes darting back and forth, unable to make out the source of the voice in the darkness.

“You, boy!” The voice was aimed at Micro this time.
“Silence!”

Quick, light footsteps were then audible somewhere near Micro, but he couldn’t find the person making him without turning his head, and turning his head would result in the knife’s edge digging into the side of his neck. While lamenting the steel body he no longer possessed, he obeyed the intimidating voice’s order and continued to listen while catching his breath.

“These insolent brigands!” Another powerful voice rang out behind Micro.

“We- we- we were just…” The tallest man stuttered, unable to finish his sentence.

“Hmph.” The man with the powerful voice scoffed.

The air then grew cold in a flash. More than a cool breeze, it reminded Micro of being covered in frost outside on a winter morning. Then, Micro heard the gentle swish of something sharp swinging through the air, followed immediately by the sound of three heavy objects crumpling to the ground without even a whimper.

“I hate dealing with the wildlife in these woods.” He spoke again in disgust.

Micro stared straight ahead, feeling helpless and confused. He was calmer now that his heart rate had returned to normal and his body had cooled, and he closed his eyes, waiting patiently for whatever was to come. The moment stretched on for an eternity in his mind as he waited, the cold air starting to bite at his skin, still damp with sweat.

“Interesting.”

Micro opened his eyes in surprise at the voice of the man who was now standing directly in front of him. It was a different voice, and he hadn’t heard any footsteps approaching him the moment before. Though the man looked barely old enough to drive, he had a mature expression.

Micro noted that his entire body seemed to glow in the same way Blue’s occasionally did, making it much easier to see him. He wore a green headband to keep his long dark hair from falling in front of his face, and he wore long robes of green and brown, modestly decorated with patterns that reminded Micro of the imagery on a core card. At his waist was a sheath, in which a long, straight knife was held, and on his back was a large, round shield made of wood and metal.

“You’re far from home, child of the Western Water Tiger Moon Sect.” His voice carried such authority that Micro felt like he was staring down a garbage truck on a narrow road.
“Why do you seek to interfere in my training?”

Micro gulped as he considered the straightforward question. The blade against his neck hadn’t moved at all throughout the encounter, so he answered softly.

“I was trying to find… The Water Snakes…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“I need to find… a master…”

“You seek to betray your sect?!” The man reached for his blade instantly with a furious look. He drew and pointed it at Micro so fast that the sparks which it emitted nearly blinded him.

“Betray?” Micro stammered.
“No… I didn’t betray… I need to…”

“Enough of this. We’ll take this insolent brat back to his sect when we’re done here.” The man sheathed his blade once more and turned around to face the rocky hill.
“It would be discourteous to punish him ourselves.”

“Yes, young master Kel.” A woman answered respectfully. Micro could feel her breath on his neck, so he assumed it was the voice of the one holding him at knife point.

“I just-” Micro wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, but a dull pain on the back of his head suddenly ended his train of thought, and the world went black.

 

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