The Lion
a story by Stephen G. T. inspired by an ancient Chinese Myth
Once upon a time, in a land of foreign there lay a small village that was haunted by a mystic beast. The beast was known as the Lion standing eight feet tall on four legs, with blood red skin, horridly long fangs, and four jet black horns. Every year this beast would come down from the mountains and terrorize the village burning the fields, smashing the houses and killing the people. This went on for three generations before one so bold sought to finish the beast once and for all. The man’s name was Hishnu Haw-Ten, and a Kung-Fu master was he. Hishnu trained in a small dojo in the forest woodlands two miles outside of the village. He wielded a mythic sword that was passed done since the dawn of the Haw-Ten era.
Hishnu ventured into the mountains to confront the evil Lion for six months with no luck in finding him. His training grew more rigorous with every passing of the season until the seventh month. Undeterred by past misfortune, the determined young warrior set forth again to the mountains. He searched the rivers and smaller streams, caves, crevasses but came up with nothing. Three weeks went by and Hishnu still was searching the vast mountains one by one through lesser dense wooded hills to greater, snow-capped rockies traveling further and further from home with only his mythic sword. This time Hishnu would not return until he found the Lion. It was then, on the sun rise of the last day of his seventh month searching when he came across the largest tree he had ever seen standing up into the clouds with monstrous arms reaching down from the heavens. The beast was climbing up the trunk of the tree several hundred feet up swift and graceful as the wind. Hishnu gave out a great whistle and unsheathed his sword. The Lion bolted down from the tree like blood-red lightning and struck deep into the earth on his landing. He gave a fantastic roar and came at our hero with intense ferocity. The two fought long and hard neither gaining advantage on the other. Their fighting created immense winds and quaking earth scaring all of the grounded animals and birds within hearing distance away. Hishnu’s sword clashed against the razor-sharp claws of the enemy creating sparks so great that they soon caught fire on the dry leaves under foot. The fire blazed shimmering in the Lion’s eyes and glowed on our hero’s sword which seemed to turn the same deep color of the beast’s skin. The sky grew dark from smoke, then black as the sun began her decent. The day had passed with relentless fighting until the third hour of night when the Lion darted back and jumped high onto the tree trunk. It turned to Hishnu and gave a loud cry, “Again we will meet, but not until I have tasted more of your village people!” Hishnu had no way of chasing the monster up the tree into the blackness above. Solemnly, he returned to his village to begin his training for their next meeting.
Winter grew cold and the Lion’s arrival was only three months away. Hishnu knew he must try again before the beast entered the village where lives would be at risk. He set forth the tiring path towards the great tree of their last encounter only this time at a quicker pace and on a straighter path. He reached the tree at the end of one week and gazed up at the towering tree trunk as wide as five houses side by side. The Lion was not in sight so Hishnu hid behind a large rock nearby. After two days of waiting, he spied the Lion walking across a small river on the other side of the great tree. He gave his great whistle and charged the Lion meeting him in the middle of the river. The Lion’s surprise quickly turned to violence and the two clashed for their second time. Only this time the Lion was able to knock the sword from Hishnu’s hand. Defenseless, Hishnu had no choice but to battle bare handed with the monster. Huge claws came whipping at his face as he dodged and counter punched, but his punches were no effect on the great beast. Finally, the Lion hit Hishnu in the shoulder tearing the flesh clean of the bone and knocking him into the river. Hishnu sprang back up from the water only to find that the Lion slipped past his grasp again. It was a long and painful return to the village, but Hishnu was fueled by his anger and hatred and fear that he may not be able to stop the Lion’s assault which would occur during the next new moon.
Hishnu sought out the village spiritualist who mended his torn shoulder and gave him elixir of vitality to restore his spent energy. Hishnu then continued his Kung-Fu training and meditation. He realized that this time he must fight the monster in his home, the great tree. One month later and one month before the Lion’s annual assault, Hishnu set forth to the great tree. He brought along with him his sword and climbing equipment determined not to let the beast flee from him. Winter’s peak had come, and the air was cold enough to turn water to ice turning the green mountains to an emerald crystal of frozen trees. The ice encrusted leaves crunched beneath the hero’s feet as he trudged along the path to his destination. When he came upon the great tree for the third time he saw the Lion at the base of the clouds climbing up out of sight. Hishnu readied his climbing equipment and began his ascent. The climb took hours and with each minute that passed he could feel the air grow colder and his hands grow number. As he neared the top, the wind was blowing so hard that he almost fell from the sky like the frozen water which had begun to fall. The hero’s heart forced his hands to continue to climb and climb until finally, he made it to the top of the tree trunk which rested in the foggy cloud. The visibility was only a few feet and all he could see was three branches which each seemed to go on forever into the sky. The cold air was hard to breathe making it hard for Hishnu to think which way to choose. Moments went by and Hishnu still did not choose a branch to climb. Instead, Hishnu gave his great whistle and waited to see if the Lion would brave another encounter. Within one minute, the Lion came creeping down the middle branch like a snake and paused to speak to Hishnu. “I have already told you,” the Lion roared. “We will not fight until I have had my fill feasting upon your village.” The grumbling voice carried a message that Hishnu was not ready to adhere, so he replied, “No Lion! I have come for your blood which means the protection of my village! I will kill you now!” and then Hishnu charged up the branch at his enemy. The Lion leapt onto another branch that was too far for Hishnu to jump to. “Come and fight Lion, for I am not leaving until my job is done!” Hishnu was growing more and more angry. Then, unexpectedly, the Lion did a flip into the air and slashed a claw right through the branch that Hishnu was standing on sending it falling to the earth. The branch was so large that it looked like a forest falling from the sky. The fall lasted minutes giving Hishnu enough time to grasp a hold of the branch and wait for the right time to jump into a deep part of the river that flowed underneath. He hit the water hard enough to kill even the largest of animals, but it was his determination to save the village that kept him alive. Hishnu came crawling out of the river, wet, battered, and very cold. He limped over to the base of the tree and tried to climb it again, but he was with out his climbing equipment and to hurt to climb with only his bruised muscles and bones. A third battle he lost and again had to return to his village broken and disheartened.
It was then, after three defeats that Hishnu realized that he alone could not defeat the supernatural beast no matter how hard he trained. So Hishnu went into the village and sought out every able-bodied man willing to fight the Lion. There were only nine that were fit enough to train in Kung-Fu, yet only six brave enough. There names were, Gundem Ju-Jijitu a young carpenter, Val Hitsu a noble elder, three brothers Tem, Yem, and Shen Rotu who worked on a rice farm, and Uth Loth the strongest person in the village who worked on everything that others could not do. Hishnu trained the six for one month up until the night before the Lion was to strike. One months training did not make the six masters in the art of Kung-Fu, but they did learn much for all were skilled in the art of meditation. The seven then began the path to the great tree knowing that they would meet the Lion on his way to the village. Hours into their travel Hishnu stopped the group and listened intensively. “I hear only the wind,” Ten, the youngest Rotu brother said. “It is not the wind, it is our enemy. Ready yourselves,” Hishnu said in return. Then what sounded like wind changed to the sound of thunder which grew so loud that it pierced their ears. Hishnu gave his great whistle and the Lion was upon them with a storm of red claws hammering the seven who were each armed with swords. The sky was cracking and the earth shook more violently then before for the Lion was using all of his strength which seemed to be coming from the earth. But he could not keep up with the seven who assaulted from every angle with much tenacity. One by one each warrior would slip past the claws and slice the red skin of the Lion releasing his blood which flowed black in the star lit sky. The Lion roared and gave his last attack which slew Shem, Yem, and Gundem, and injured the rest of the warriors. Then Uth, the strongest jumped onto the monsters back and bared the arms for only an instant before the Lions head turn one hundred and eighty degrees and snapped his fangs around his head decapitating him. In that instant Hishnu swiped his sword across the Lion’s throat splitting the wind pipe and major artery. The Lion coughed up Uth’s head from his mouth and choked on his own blood. The Lion fell and died. Val and Hishnu carried the bodies of their friends and fallen warriors back to the village were they were given proper burial. Other men from the village went up into the mountains to retrieve the carcass of the Lion but it was not to be found.
The following day came, but the Lion never did, nor did he ever return to terrorize the village. In celebration the village created a Lion guise and danced the dance of the seven warriors who defeated the Lion. Each year that followed the village holds the same celebration, one that spread to nearby villages across the whole country.