Chapter 2: How to travel the world without a passport

Jon escapes his apartment with his cranky neighbor and finds himself teleported to an urban backstreet in China. He discovers there's a lot to him he doesn't know about himself.

Chapter 2

“Stay close. We go to safe place now.” His words were sharp, but concerned. He led Jon down the street to a worn-down looking building. They walked inside and Jon couldn’t help but recall the phrase, “don’t judge a book by its cover”. The cliché didn’t even do the situation justice. They were in an enormous foyer with intricate marble tiling, rot-iron banisters and two very large dragons of real jade on either side. The walls were a rich dark wood and the wide hallway was lined with cloisonné urns with deep green indoor palms in them. Over their heads was a crystal chandelier with gold guilding. Old inked scrolls hung on the dark wood walls tastefully, each bearing a beautiful image of an animal or a misty landscape. It was a beautiful place, however much it may have looked like the hideout of member of the Triad.

“You follow.” Mr. Zhang said blandly, seeming nonplussed by the decadence surrounding them.

“Where are we?” Jon half whispered, as he passively followed the old man down the palm-laden hall.

“At my master’s house.” The old man had a way with words. Always giving enough to explain, but somehow, it never seemed to do Jon’s questions justice. Damnit, why couldn’t someone just explain what was happening here? The thoughts re-grounded Jon just as they reached the end of the hall and stood in front of an ornate red and gold door. “say nothing, I will speak.” He walked forward and the door opened without being touched.

“Zhang Yao, come forward.” A voice from across the room said. The air felt thick with incense, and the dark paneled room was dimly lit by a fireplace off to the left of a chaise lounge. The room was richly and much more ornately decorated than even the foyer had been. Under-lit shelving lined the walls highlighting beautiful objects that seemed to be from every era and corner of the world. It was such an odd juxtaposition of things; odd, but beautiful.

They approached the chair where a man sat smoking a long pipe sitting crisscross style with his feet up. Joh thought the sofa seemed old, as though it had been plucked from a movie from the 20’s.  Though really, Jon had no clue about things like that. As they drew close, Old Man Zhang stopped and bowed to the ground, knees to the floor in traditional style. Jon was unsure what to do, so he nodded deeply in a sort of confused compromise, hoping not to breech some code of behavior.

“Master, I have saved the one you send me to. We escape just in time. This is Jon Sait. Also, I bring something else.” He rose still bowing slightly and looking at the floor. From his coat, he produced the clock, which still bore the eerie glow from earlier. He placed it gently on the desk. “Boy trap shadow inside. I heard. I came running. Left just in time.”

“Are you certain you weren’t followed?” The mysterious man asked. “Even bound, a master can sense his shadow.” It was strange to Jon. The man was dressed in a formal traditional Chinese robe that draped him poetically, giving him the appearance of having stepped out of an ancient Chinese watercolor. What made it seem weird was that he had no accent. He sounded American, and looked fairly young. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-five, but this old guy was acting like he was some ancient Chinese God or something. Had Jon not been in shock, he would have found the scene pretentious.

“Yes, master. We took portal just before they arrive. I close portal before anything come through. We not seen by anyone.” It was odd to watch this cantankerous old man behaving so humbly and being polite.

“Very well Yao. Wait outside. I will speak to the boy in private.” For the first time the man looked directly at Jon. When he did, Jon realized his iris’ were electric blue and glowing faintly. They were much the same color as his clock. It made Jon feel suddenly small, and also very exposed and out of place, the way a child who has been found playing in a place they shouldn’t have been would feel.

The door closed quietly behind Mr. Zhen. “I’m sure you have many questions about your current situation.”

Jon took a deep breath, attempting to steady his voice. “Seriously, I really do. I …”

“It is complicated to explain all at once,” the man cut across. “But we will do our best to clear this up as much as possible for you in the moment.” Jon made to speak, but the man held up a silencing hand. “Unfortunately, you cannot stay here long. We must send you to a safe-house as soon as possible. Once there, you will come to fully understand your situation.” He sighed deeply, putting the tip of his pipe to his lips and taking a long deep drag. “Introductions first.” As he spoke, billows of thick smoke crawled from his mouth and nostrils. “Welcome to my home. My name is Master Zhang Senfeng. The man you know as Mr. Zhang is a member of my household. He has served this family in good faith for centuries. For that reason, he bears my surname. We are Tao practitioners who serve order, and strive to maintain the positive balance in the world.”

“Uhhhh…” Jon felt weird. This couldn’t be real. “I’m sorry, did you say centuries?”

“You are Jon Sait.” He said turning his pipe on Jon swiftly aiming the pointed end at Jon’s chest. “Several years ago, I sent out my servant to your future home to establish a barrier and watch over you. Last night, that barrier was breeched. Only a powerful malevolent force could have destroyed it. Any positive force would have been allowed access to your apartment without any knowledge of the barriers existence. The fact it was destroyed means that what came to you last night, meant ill for you. Most likely, it was sent to kill you.” He stared at Jon for a moment, bringing the pipe back to his lips for a long while before continuing. Jon wondered if this was an invitation to speak. “My household’s craft,” Apparently not.  “Is old and powerful, including power endowed to my servants, and especially in regards to Mr. Zhang, your neighbor.” He stopped speaking.

Jon waited for him to continue. He didn’t. Jon took the silence as his cue. “So why would something so bad come for me?”

“It may be because you haven’t realized the power inside you. Your name, Jon, is Hebrew for God’s gift or God has given. Your surname is French, meaning knowledge. Altogether, you name means God has given knowledge. You come from a long line of seers, Jon- practitioners who specialize in understanding. Typically, this sort of practitioner is sought out to gain knowledge of the future, or a person’s fortune, sometimes even, to find out about past events. But few know that seers have the ability to understand much more. As a seer, one who knows, you can tap into the knowedge of any object and know its past, present and future. That knowledge becomes power to your kind. There are others who would like to take that power for themselves, or even destroy it.

“I’m sorry, but this just can’t be true. That’s crazy. So what if my name means that. That has nothing to do with anything.” Jon was dizzy for the irrationality of the situation. “My family is nothing like that.” He said, shaking is head. And besides, none of this can even be real. “We’re just a normal group of people who immigrated to the states after world war one. Everyone is just regular. I think you are mistaking me for someone else. And I think you must be either nuts or part of some delusion I must be having.”

“No! Your mother did not name you by mistake.” His severity jarred Jon. “Your name is proof. That clock is proof. The shadow within it is proof. The fact that you were awake to face it is proof. And that you are still alive is all proof!” He stared Jon down. “In the lines of seers there is no guarantee the gift will present itself to each generation. It ebbs and flows over time, but is never bred out. The gift itself remains present enough within each descendant to ensure they follow the path necessary continue the line, working through their subconscious. This self-preserving power, which feels so natural, like an intuition, nearly ended with you last night. But it didn’t. It did just what it was meant to do. Without even realizing it, you have known something was coming for several days, but having no prior experience with magic, you couldn’t unravel the meaning behind your restlessness until the moment was upon you. You are the first Sait to awaken in over 150 years.”

“Awaken?” Sure, this was crazy, but Jon was hooked. He wanted to know more.

“In the community of practitioners, close bonds are formed among households, and with the world of sorcery being a much smaller cosm than common society, most of the households are connected in some way or another. This has been the case of yours and mine for some time. The connection between our families spans over 500 years. We have provided one another with services for centuries, and this, what I’m doing for you now, is one of those. During the ebbing periods your family goes through, the secret knowledge your family gains fades with the power, and is often forgotten. We are the protectors of that knowledge, and the safe keepers of your household during these periods of temporary dissolution. Now that you have awakened to your power, the time has come to transfer those arts back into the hands of their rightful owner, so you can protect your household, and help us in return.

 

Up to this point, Jon was engrossed but was feeling far out of his depth, like a grade school in a Theoretical Physics lecture. “… But wait, what? Help you? What do you mean by that? I know literally nothing about any of this. How is a person like me supposed to help you?”

“You are the emergent head of an old and powerful family of practitioners. When you have learned your family’s histories, and have acquired all your power, you will know what you can do. It would be wrong to burden a man with the weight of his destiny before he even knows the path of his journey.”

“Ooookay, Confucius. Look, I think it’s time I left now.” Jon said shifting toward the door.

Smiling between taking another drag from his pipe, Master Zhang said, “You’re right. You need rest. Mr. Zhang will lead you to a place where you may sleep, and wash the smell of cheap alcohol from you.”

The returned jab was slap in the face. He knew he’d overstepped his bounds. “Zhang. Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have called you Confucius.”

“Probably not.” The man said nodding courteously.

“And Thank you. I’m not sure what all this is, or if it’s even real, but if it is … I …  I appreciate your help,” Jon nodded hesitantly in gratitude. After all, what choice did he have but to trust them. If this was real, he was thousands of miles from home, and had nowhere and nobody to turn to. Playing this out was the safest bet.

“It is an honor and my duty to assist you. Make sure you rest well. You will feel better once get to the safe-house. I will make the necessary arrangements. Tomorrow will begin a rigorous journey for you. You must exercise arts none of your predecessors have performed. These are dangerous times. And even seers must be able to protect themselves, and fight when necessary.”

“Wait, I almost forgot,” Jon shifted back toward the master. What was that light thing I made?

“In truth, that was your first step, and also a declaration of war. You must become dangerous.” The master smiled. “You may go.” He spoke with finality and Jon knew that was the most he was going to get out of him for the time being.

Jon turned and began walking to the door which opened in front of him without prompt or physically touch. Zhao had returned to escort him out. They moved to walk out.

Master Zhang called to him before he crossed the threshold. “Oh yes, and don’t forget your clock.” The small alarm clock was suddenly hovering in front of his face. Jon gasped in surprise but grabbed the clock from the air. He turned with wide eyes toward Master Zhang and nodded unblinking, feeling thunderstruck. He turned and left the room as quickly as possible.

When he emerged on the other side of the doorway, Jon was standing in a strange new place. Looking out a large window to his right he could see snow dusting the ground, and mountains, tons and tons of mountains- an ironically literal phrase. There were large pines around, and he could see other parts of the building from his vantage point. It was large and made of stone. It seemed very old. The sky was overcast, leaving everything in a dim cold grey, though the clouds seemed thin. Everything was diffused, and a mist engulfed the grounds. Were they in the clouds? How high up in altitude was he, and where did China go? Hearing footsteps, he turned in the doorway. It was now a very large and high-ceilinged hall. A small group walked by through an adjoining corridor, seeming not to notice him. They were dressed in dark grey robes, and they weren’t Asian. They must have been monks, but why would the old man take him to a monastery? Didn’t Christians hate witchcraft? This should have bothered him more, but he had succumbed to the idea that it was all just a very strange dream and he would wake up on his mattress back in New Jersey and everything would be normal again.

But in the meantime, he was watching the monks. They each carried a large stack of books, but one of them carried a large box as well. He seemed to be struggling a bit under the weight. They were in a hurry. “Get moving, we don’t have much time. Did you finish getting the room ready?” The oldest looking one was speaking.

“This is such short notice. We simply aren’t prepared,” whined one that appeared to be about Jon’s age. He couldn’t pin it, but something was strange with the way they spoke.

“Quiet, he might be listening. For all we know they’ve already brought him.” A couple of the men looked around nervously. “You don’t want him to think we don’t have it together do you?” said the oldest of the men, driving his point home.

“Psst. We go in here.” Old man Zhao was motioning him back inside the room. Not wanting to find anything he might not be able to handle alone, Jon complied. He walked into the room and closed the door. All he noticed at this point was a bed. An amazing, comfortable looking bed. “Tonight, you sleep here.”

“No arguments here.” He said sitting down on its edge. He sank into it like a cloud.

“Not yet! The old man said, waving him over to him. “You stink. Take a bath.” The last word drug out of his mouth with distain. Jon stood up, reluctant to leave the comfort of the very large bed. Very soon bed, very soon. He made an I’m watching you motion with his fingers as he walked to away from the bed. The old man led him around a set of large room dividers. Jon was pleased to see a jacuzzi sized bath, steaming and filling the air with a soothing smell. “This your bath. I’m busy. Get it. Hurry!” Old man Zhang clearly had no sense of how much he was destroying this awesome moment. “I am going.” The old man said as Jon climbed into the tub.

“Oh, okay.” Only barely acknowledging the old man’s presence as his feet hit the water. It was nice. The tub was flush with the floor. It felt more like climbing into a pool for a dip then taking a bath. The water was perfect. As he kicked back, all his concerns drifted away as if being carried off by a current. The began to feel far away as his muscles relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been. But that was probably to be expected after nearly being murdered by a shadow and then being teleported, possibly twice among many other bizarre discoveries. There was too much to keep track of in his tired state. As he tried to retain the thoughts to sort through them, they seemed to become more slippery. He closed his eyes to concentrate harder, but everything began going fuzzy and grey like the mist outside. Grey, to white, to a red color. The soft light in the room shining through the back of his eyelids faded to thick velvet darkness.

Author's Note

*Edit 3
*Looking for inconsistencies.
*Grammar.
*What do you think about the descriptions? Good? Bad? Enriching? Unnecessarily in depth?
**Enjoy!