Day after day go by the small village of Mamonaku, situated in the North East regions of Hokorigakure. The village is surrounded by a great, silent desert that spans for fifteen miles in every direction.
The heart and pride of Mamonaku lay in the Buddhist Shaolin Temple which every child was expected to train in, this included young Dara.
Dara was abandoned at birth by his mother in a nearby forest. His newborn cries and squeals beaconed through the evening trees like a siren; drawing attention to the passer-by monks who sheltered his infantile existence.
The temple Zhu (master) was infertile at the time and was desperate for a child. Nobody in the village gave up their children to the hands of a stranger, and this led to Dara’s immediate adoption after his rejection from every family.
”I shall call him Dara”The Zhu glared down from his throne at the helpless and vulnerable child scrabbling through the straw nest at his feet.
”And he shall become my student”His tiny body was elevated above the master on display to everyone in the village. The courtyard quickly grew replete with applause and congratulation for his achievement – children, adults and elderly cheered on and celebrated for the potential successor of the Zhu, however… happiness and glory were not the only things to cross the soul of the Zhu nor of his son; the world was vast and heinous observers pried through the shadows. The eyes of corruption and sin only grew sharper with every year that passed.
Zhu Tailon was a man of fifty or so, a well-disciplined Shaolin warrior who prioritized the wellbeing of his village and temple over personal queries. He was the last of the Long clan – a noble family of Shaolin warriors and spiritualists, creators of the idea and fundamental basics of ‘hybrid cross battle’ – a style of combat fusing martial arts with ninjutsu. They believed that one would be twice the threat and efficient in combat when they applied martial techniques to offense, alongside ninja art and the use of chakra. For this is the reason harsh regulation and spiritual training has become a common practice within the Mamonaku youth.
Dara was naturally bound to the elegant nature of the deep, red inferno which resembled fire – flame, combustion; the satisfaction and burning passion of ignition - watching flesh roast at will. However, like most children of the village, Dara underwent challenging physical training in the martial art of Shaolin Kung Fu for most of his teenage period, postponing and brushing any chakra related training under the rug.
Every student was expected to wake up with the chickens – 05:30 on the spot, where they would consume a light snack in preparation for the ten mile run through the desert; sunrise was their deadline and those who failed to keep up were looked down upon with disgust as weak links in the system.
To everyone’s surprise, Dara excelled in most of the courses; he set the expectations and standards high for every student in the village to aspire and follow in his footsteps as he quickly became a prominent figure within the community. His progress was reflected on his body every time the upper section of his robes were off – he was not shredded and decorated with muscles, but finely bloated in all areas; he was a juggernaut - the living image of a dedicated warrior in the eyes of Tailon.
The lack of kunoichi within the village made it hard for Dara to find a female partner, however the odds completely turned one day during a communal gathering within the temple, an event that occurred twice a year to bring forth every student and master for further, friendlier bonding.
Erisa, a young trainee had finally built up the courage to approach Dara after sixteen years of blushing and faint romantic hints. She was slightly above average height for a female – around five feet and eight inches – her wood-brown hair was almost always tied in a pony-tail, clearly exposing her smallish round and pale face which stood out. Her eyes; deep, brown and full of hope constantly glanced towards the top student within the temple for most of the time – she was latched onto him.
Erisa was not the best kunoichi in the female group, but Dara looked beyond her physical attributes and capabilities as they were both madly in love, and saw each other as pieces part of a large love puzzle. They were inseparable and even stated their marriage vows for years in advance.
However, their relationship met a tragic ending when Erisa was murdered on the streets of Hokorigakure by local thugs, potentially affiliated with Blackbox and Tatsujin 8. Dara succumbed into darkness to these news, his life was overshadowed with depression and suicidal thoughts – he was pained and mentally corrupt.
On the same evening he was informed, Dara’s knees drew contact with the wooden planks in his dormitory; a glass shard was clenched in his right fist as his mind drowned in countless memories and thoughts of his two-year relationship. Tears crawled out in abundance, sliding from face to neck and the ground, like a pair of ski going down a mountain.
His arms thrust inwards with the shard in hand, only for it to break and slide across his skin. Several more thrusts left Dara in disappointment, shock and fear as he could not pierce his body. He was jaw dropped with wide eyes as horror flushed through him.
“Why the fuck does it not go through?”…
This was the evening Dara realized physical means could not harm him to the point of death. No matter how close he was to fatal injuries, nothing could finish him off.
The compulsory Shaolin lifestyle comes to an end twenty years into the life of a student, after accumulating enough experience and mastering the basic art, students were encouraged to begin developing their chakra nature in order to bring to life the concept of ‘hybrid cross battle’.
Dara did not have a wide arsenal of fire techniques, however he spent years mastering the ones he could control, and even crafted his own arts.
“Infernal embodiment jutsu!” he yelled, waving his arms in a circle from the centre of his head to the centre of his torso. A red flare engulfed Dara's body, with large fiery arms breaking through the flames. He could control every moment of the arms at will. He became a killing machine. He was ready.
P.S I apologize for going on hiatus for a while, and I understand if you believe this chapter is unsatisfactory. I promise future ones will return to original standard
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Topic: Chapter 11 - Behind The Curtains (Read 5052 times)
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