Chapter Text
Some of Zane’s earliest memories were of curiosity.
“But… if not in the forest, then… where would we stay?” Zane trudged through the sleet blanketed grass. Swaying stalks of heather danced in the corners of his vision, crackling and snapping under his feet. Towering groves of aspen and birch loomed over him, and his mind swam with confusion, cold biting at his ears and clinging to his hair. He’d have quickly lost sight of the elderly man in front of him, if not for the distinctive disc-shaped hat he donned so proudly.
“You’ll see, young one.” Zane stumbled, buffeted by a sudden gale of wind. Tumbling to the ground, he groaned quietly, before quickly righting himself and rising to unsteady feet. The elderly man had turned, and rested a hand on his shoulder.
“Mister Wu…” Zane grumbled. Wu knelt down, brushing some dirt off the young boy’s chin, before roughly clapping a hand down on his shoulder.
“I think you will find that it’s MASTER Wu to you, kid.” His tone changed drastically, and Zane’s shoulders slumped disbelievingly as the elderly man concluded the matter and marched onward.
Charging through the heather after him, it was almost a good thing Zane paid his surroundings no mind. Beyond the dark silhouette of his new mentor, who was outlined in frost and the billowing shape of his robes, stood a mountain so tall it seemed to graze the clouds. Nestled at the peak of the mountain, overlooking the sweeping landscape of Ninjago, and all but invisible save for the unsteady flickering of its brazier, was the humble monastery Zane would come to call home.
There, haloed by the reverie of new discoveries, and the prospect of venturing forth towards the sheer unknown, the young boy felt a small bead of emotion lance through his heart. Curiosity.
———
“This is… your home?” Zane asked flatly, gazing at the monastery before him. Wu said nothing, simply removing his sandals, and turning to look expectantly at Zane, who recognised the prompt with a start and quickly sat down to remove his own.
He furrowed his eyebrows at the uncomfortable sensation of gravel biting into his bare feet, but didn’t dare voice any complaint in front of the elderly man, choosing to afford him a bit more respect after being welcomed into his home. Wu nodded his approval, before opening the doors to the monastery.
Zane stepped onto the smooth wood flooring. The whole building seemed to be circular in design; with hallways curved around a courtyard, connected by two different grand red doors on each side of the building. A small dip in the walls, like a channel, ran through the middle of them, and Zane ran his hand over it, finding it to be engraved with miniscule designs; tiny grooves that came together to make the shapes of serpents, dragons, trees, and the sweeping mountains that cut through Ninjago and divided it.
“Coal!” Wu called out as he stepped through the door. Zane instinctively took it as a request, thinking somewhere in the back of his mind the elderly man wanted to light a hearth. But Wu huffed, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. Something scurried overhead, and Zane gasped, craning his head upwards. Wooden scaffolding connected the walls together and Zane could faintly make out the slanted roof beyond them, but no source of the strange sound.
“It is certainly… spacious.” Zane remarked. Surrounded by the embrace of the curved walls, a faint memory of tall quaking aspen towering over him flashed through his mind. He turned back to Wu, who had removed his hat and hung it on a hook by the door, leaning his walking staff against the doorframe. “You have no children?” He asked curiously.
Wu snorted, “Certainly not. Or at least, not in the way I’m sure you’re thinking.” Zane frowned at the vague answer, tapping his wrists together in thought. Wu brushed a calloused hand over his shoulder, before opening the grand door, beckoning Zane into the courtyard.
It was paved with smooth stone, somehow warm to the touch despite the snowflakes fluttering through the air. It looked like some kind of half-finished obstacle course, with stray wooden pillars and beams littering the clearing. Blunt metal spikes accented the base of the beams, and Zane shivered.
“It's too big for only one person.” Zane said almost instinctively. Wind whistled through the clearing, lending to the lifelessness of the monastery. Master Wu rapped his knuckles against a thin wooden podium, and the obstacle course quickly sank back into the stone.
Zane moved to speak, but the words were caught in his throat suddenly, anchoring themselves in place like the roots of the grandest tree. On the far side of the courtyard, the twin red door was left ajar, creaking on its hinges in the gentle sway of the wind. And there, leering onward from the shadows, was a young boy.
He seemed older than Zane, but no more than nine or ten years of age. His skin was tan, and his eyes were almost completely obscured by dark messy locks of hair. He glowered at Zane, dark amber eyes piercing through him.
Their eyes met, and Zane held back another gasp. His skin prickled with unease, and a tremor wracked through his nerves, but he held his ground. The other boy’s eyes seemed to glow, alight with seething fury and yet brewing like sandstorms. Zane knew his own were as pale blue as ever, like gleaming shards of ice, impenetrable and sharp.
“Ah, Coal!” Master Wu exclaimed, clasping his hands together. Zane assumed a defensive stance, hands raised and muscles taut, like a viper ready to strike. Master Wu put a calloused hand on Zane’s shoulders, however, and nodded towards the young boy, reaffirming his safety. ‘Coal’s’ gaze tore away from Zane, and he narrowed his eyes towards the elderly man, before slinking back into the darkness and slamming the door. The harsh snapping of the lock made Zane flinch, and he saw the faint silhouette of ‘Coal’ dash away through the shoji windows.
“Urgh…” Master Wu sighed, bringing a hand to his brow in exasperation. Zane shifted on his feet with uncertainty, and the elderly man turned to the young boy.
“I apologize, Zane. I’m sure he holds no animosity toward you, he just…” The elderly man trailed off, and Zane was startled by the sudden use of his name; he had been growing accustomed to ‘young one’.
“Perhaps I should have warned him of your arrival. But I did not want to risk waiting-“ He paused, seeing Zane’s bewildered expression, and shook his head, patting the young boy’s shoulder again.
“Nevermind that, young one. Night draws near, and I’m sure you have not eaten in some time. Fetch water from the spring near the entrance, and I will summon Coal and prepare dinner for the two of you.” Zane nodded, then frowned again.
“Why is he named after a rock?” The question was unwarranted, and the elderly man seemed taken aback, before barking out a laugh suddenly. It startled Zane; he almost thought it was a coughing fit of some kind, before Wu smiled, shaking his head.
“No, no, young one. COLE. C-O-L-E. Not coal. Although I’m thankful you asked me that, and not him…” He muttered, running his hands through his beard thoughtfully, before gesturing towards the entrance and disappearing through Cole’s door. Zane accepted this as his dismissal, and wandered back to the entrance, slipping his sandals on.
True enough, though he hadn’t noticed it before, there was a spring beside the brazier. The water bubbled forth from a crevice in the mountain stone, streaming through an eroded channel in the rocks before tumbling down into a pool on a lower outcrop. A small bucket lay beside the door frame, and Zane knelt down to catch the falling water with it.
It was far from an arduous task, and Zane stretched languidly, resting his back against the cool concrete of the brazier pillar, waiting for the bucket to fill.
The view from the monastery was a breathtaking sight to behold. The relentless snow had finally started to wane, and the expansive landscapes of Ninjago were laid out before him, bathed in pale moonlight and seeming to stretch on forever. He could see the fuzzy outline of the forest Wu had found him in, towering trees like grim sentinels in the night, standing stout and so entangled together they seemed to meld into a singular green streak. The neighboring peaks keened towards the moon on either side of the monastery, and Zane noticed for the first time the faint glow of settlements near the base of the mountain. The burnt sierra expanse of the desert lay before him, and beyond that, untamed wilderness.
“Hey.” A sudden new voice tore him violently from his daydream, and Zane flinched. Realizing he was suddenly bathed in warm fireglow, Zane whirled around to the source of the voice. There, leaning on the doorframe, was the boy.
“Dude, the bucket is overflowing.” Zane blinked at the other boy, before kneeling down and taking the bucket by the handle. Tipping the bucket on its side to release the excess water, he stepped up to the door, removing his sandals again and nodding at the other boy, who glanced away and motioned him down the hallway towards the dining room.
“I am Zane.” The introduction hung heavily in the air, and Zane almost questioned repeating himself, or prompting the other boy for a response, when he spoke up.
“I’m Cole,” the boy stated, “and the top bunk is MINE.”
———
Dinner ended up being sauteed fish served over jasmine rice. Zane had not realized how hungry he was until food was laid out before him. Dinner was enjoyable, and thankfully Cole seemed just as hungry as he was; Zane was acutely aware of what an outsider he was here, and resolved to be the most gracious guest he could. After dinner, the boy led him to their shared room; sparsely decorated, with a simple tatami mat and split through the middle with a shoji privacy screen, folded up against the wall.
As promised, Cole immediately clambered the top bunk, burying his head under the pillow and turning to face the wall. The bottom bunk was considerably neater than his, with the blanket folded up next to a set of sleeping robes that Zane assumed were his. Next to the bunk beds was a bedside drawer, though oddly the drawers had been removed, leaving just the wooden frame. On top of that was a paper lantern, seeming crudely made with scuff marks along the base of it. Zane changed behind the shoji screen, before curling up on the cot.
He was momentarily struck by the childish longing to ask to be tucked into bed, a notion that was more senseless the more he pondered it. As far as he could remember, nobody had ever done that for him, and he certainly didn’t think Wu or Cole would.
The latter had long since fallen asleep, snoring softly and dangling his leg over the side of the bunk. Zane sighed, curling inward until his chin rested against his knees, and drifted off to sleep. He dreamed of dragonflies, dancing in daylight.
———
“….dude…… Dude! Zane!” Zane woke up suddenly, gasping and kicking his leg outward. Cole, who had been vigorously shaking Zane’s shoulder, grunted and stumbled back as Zane’s foot connected with his sternum. “Ow! Hey, not cool!”
Zane blinked, looking around the room bleary-eyed. It was all but pitch black, warm fireglow filtering under the door and pale moonlight drifting through the screen window. Eventually he made out the faint silhouette of Cole in front of him, clutching his chest and glaring accusingly at Zane, who groaned . “What do you want, Cole?” his voice was hoarse with disuse.
“Why did you kick me?” The boy retorted. The response struck Zane as odd, and, fully awake now, he sat up to face the other boy.
“Er… because I was asleep, peaceful, and then somebody started thrashing me around and shouting?” It was an honest answer, but it seemed to catch Cole off guard, who laughed, before lunging forward and grabbing Zane’s wrist.
“Hurry! He’s finally asleep!” Cole whispered eagerly, dragging Zane out of bed and towards the door.
“What are you talking about?” Zane hissed. Cole didn’t answer, but leaned against a section of wall and pulled it to the side, revealing a closet Zane hadn’t noticed. He rummaged through the closet, seemingly looking for something.
“Master Wu is finally back from town, and I know he brought back treats, but he’s totally holding out on me! I asked him, and you know what he said?”
Cole paused in his search, turning expectantly to Zane, one eyebrow raised. Zane, who had joined in the search for the… whatever it was, started at the sudden prompting.
“Oh- uh, what did he say?” Cole smirked and the two kept searching, Zane occasionally finding something that seemed of relevance and offering it to Cole.
“He said- no, that’s not it- he said ‘Young one, you must realize all things- not that either- all things come in their own time. I mean… how cliché is that?”
Zane hummed in agreement, not fully following the other boy’s point.
“So… what are we looking for, and why-“ Zane was interrupted by a sudden triumphant cry from Cole. Tucked away at the far corner of the closet was a long, sheet-like… thing. Without being asked, Zane helped the boy bring it out of the closet. In the better lighting, Zane recognised it as an ironing board, which only added to his confusion.
“I am… incredibly confused.” Cole simply laughed, and with Zane’s help, propped the board against the closet door, so that the base of it rested against the bedframe of the twin beds. Zane watched, transfixed, as the boy strode to the far side of the room, hands clasped together almost as if in prayer. They both stood in silence for a moment, and Zane was about to question Cole’s motives when the other boy suddenly dashed for the board.
In the blink of an eye, Cole scurried up the board, before kicking back and jumping onto the foot of the top bunk. He paused briefly, before using his gathered momentum to launch himself upward, narrowly reaching the wooden scaffolding beams above them. He took a moment to right himself, clinging to the beam awkwardly with his arms and legs hooked around it like a baby koala, before managing to crouch on top of it. He laughed shortly, before turning to Zane, now donning an exhilarated smile.
“Your turn, dude!” He called down, voice hushed. Zane glanced at the board warily, then his own feet. “Come on, there’s really nothin’ to it. Just jump, jump, jump! Three jumps!” It seemed like a reductive simplification, but Zane inhaled deeply, steeling his nerves, before exhaling and assuming a steady stance.
Cole quickly grew quiet, allowing the other boy focus. Suddenly, Zane lunged forward, bounding up the board before leaping backward. While Cole’s movements had been tense and rushed, focused on one goal, Zane’s were wider and more graceful. He planted both feet against the bed frame, before spinning backward and leaping towards the scaffolding.
His fingers brushed against the wood, and for one fleeting moment, thrill exploded through his chest. As quick as he had celebrated, his grasp slipped, and shock shot through him as he dropped like a dead weight.
Cole lunged forward, snatching his wrist. For one horrible moment, Cole grasped Zane’s arm with both of his own, straining to maintain his own balance. Zane, paralysed by shock, had hung limp in the air, before suddenly returning to his senses. Bringing his other arm upward, he grasped the beam so hard that splinters bit into the palm of his hand, and hauled himself upward. For a moment, the two children lay in shock. Zane stared at the empty cot below him, only noticing now Cole had a small stuffed panda bear toy in his cot.
Suddenly, Zane was brought out of his stupor by a friendly punch to his shoulder. Turning to face Cole, he saw the other boy was grinning madly.
“Dude, that was wild. You totally coulda died!” Zane smiled shakily, unsure of how to respond to that statement. He was saved from too much contemplation by the other boy scurrying forward along the beam, and Zane had no choice but to trail after him.
Below him, in between the beams of wood, Zane could see glimpses of the monastery’s interior. It was odd to see it from such an angle, but also uniquely intriguing. He quickly learned better than to stare down while crossing the smooth beams, however, stumbling and having to awkwardly right himself, lest he come crashing through the ceiling and onto Wu’s chinaware vases.
Eventually, Cole halted in his tracks, raising a single hand to signal that Zane should stop too. Carefully, the boy lowered himself down, hanging by his hands before dropping and hitting the chabudai dining table with a soft thud . The table rocked, but held firm. Cole looked to the ceiling, where Zane’s pale blue eyes still peered down wearily at him. A cool draft ran through the monastery, and though Cole shivered, it only served to energize Zane more, spurring him onward. Cole raised a finger to his mouth silently, warning Zane to be quiet, and the other boy nodded, face grim with determination and stalwart in his goal.
Zane landed next to Cole, earning him another friendly punch to the shoulder. At first he had mistaken this as an act of aggression, though Zane had since realized that coming from Cole, it was an affectionate act of camaraderie. So, he grinned and laughed along.
“This way. I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.” Cole skulked through the shadows of the kitchen, while Zane studied the interior for the first time. The shoji screen windows of the dining room overlooked the view of Ninjago, though in the dark of night it had since grown all but invisible. The kitchen was simplistic, with very few appliances. It was dimly lit by a cluster of flickering candles on the countertop, and sticks of incense perfumed the air with a vaguely floral scent.
Watching Cole search through the pantries, something pulled at Zane’s mind.
“The sweets are in the top left cabinet.” He wasn’t certain how he knew, but the information was apparent in his mind, coming to him like the solution to a simple equation. Cole cocked his head.
“You sure?” Zane nodded, somewhat irritated at the other boy’s doubt.
“Positive. Master Wu hid them there, because he did not think you would think to check the tallest cabinet.” Cole scoffed, spurred on by the goading, and with that, Cole nodded, and clambered upward to the top cabinet, kneeling on the countertop.
There was a brief moment of silence before Cole gasped.
“No way!” He surfaced from the pantry, holding a small basket made of woven lemongrass and tied with a silk ribbon. “I knew it!”
Cole turned to face Zane, hopping down from the countertop and offering the basket to him. The ribbon seemed flimsy and ornamental, and Zane made short work of untying it. Lifting the lid of the basket, he was surprised to see what looked like little balls of dough, in a myriad of different pale colours.
Cole, however, seemed ecstatic.
“Mochi! Aw, man, I totally love this stuff!” Zane passed the basket back to Cole, who eagerly accepted, seizing one of the little dough things and eating it in a single bite.
“How’d you know they were up there? You got some kinda sixth sense or something?”
Zane blinked, bemused. “Something like that, I suppose.”
“Either way, you’re totally the man, man!” Cole grinned and turned his attention back to the ‘mochi’.
Taking one for himself, he was surprised to find it so squishy. He didn’t like to consider himself a picky eater, but after Wu’s sautéed fish, he was expecting most food to be tender, but certainly not squishy. Cole had noticed Zane’s hesitance, and gave him a strange look.
“What’s wrong?” Zane didn’t respond, instead turning the ‘mochi’ over in his hands. It left a fine powder over his fingers, and had a subtly sweet smell, but it wasn’t like anything Zane could ever remember seeing.
“I… fear I do not understand.” It was a sensation Zane was growing readily accustomed to, and frustration lanced through his mind suddenly. All at once he felt wounded by his own ignorance, and foolish in front of the other boy. Cole’s brow furrowed, and he cocked his head in bemusement.
“It’s from the settlements around the prairie. Like a little cake, but made of rice and stuff. Try it! I promise it’s super good.” Cole grinned encouragingly, and Zane’s nerves abated, if only slightly.
The mochi was certainly soft, but less chewy than Zane expected. What he thought would be a sticky, jam-like filling was a lot smoother and bitter, with a sweet aftertaste. Cole studied Zane’s reaction with baited breath, and Zane offered him a hesitant ‘thumbs-up’ which was enthusiastically returned.
It got to the point that Zane had to physically restrain Cole, reasoning their best chance of not being caught by Master Wu would be not to take too much mochi, lest he notice the amount missing. Cole finally relinquished his grasp on the basket after four mochi, and Zane pretended not to notice the extra two he had hidden in the sleeves of his robes as he carefully redid the intricate ribbon.
Wu would catch them in their trick anyway, of course; two weeks later, when looking to reward the two boys for an exceptionally skillful sparring match, he would present the mochi with a flourish, only to find the crudely tied ribbon and a plentiful heaping of mochi missing. They were both condemned to extra chores that week, but as Zane swept the tiles of the courtyard and Cole trimmed the topiaries, their eyes met, one glittering with curiosity, and the other with mischief; Zane knew then that he’d do it all over again if he had the chance.
———
For two years, it had just been the two of them at the monastery. Though the memories had long since grown dull with age, there were a seldom few that still gleamed like stars in the dark midnight of his mind. Their first meeting, of course, but also their first sparring match together, their first journey into town together. Even insignificant things, like when Cole found out that a pangolin was real and not just a fairytale, or the night both ninjas-in-training lay awake in their cots, and Cole confessed to having lost his mother.
As his time at the monastery stretched on and on, Zane couldn’t help but feel his own shrouded history grow more and more apparent. Cole was cagey at best on the subject of his parents, but had relished in enthusiastically recounting his time in Ninjago City to Zane, who had pitifully few memories to share in return.
The soft sound of snowflakes pattering against frosted glass pane windows. The heady scent of ink and parchment. A voice, worn with age, cheering him on indistinctly in the back of his mind. But this was all Zane could recall of his own childhood, before Wu had found him wandering aimlessly around the forest.
Wu had recounted to him the tale of four ninjas that would bear the burden of the elements of nature. He told him that Cole was earth, and Zane was ice. All he could think at that moment was that his ‘named after a rock’ mistake hadn’t been too far off in actuality.
Still, though the idea lingered in the back of his mind that there could be two others kicking around somewhere in Ninjago, Zane was more than happy to simply live in the moment with Cole. There was an easy companionship between the two of them, a safety that Zane could not help but treasure.
Zane had settled into an easy routine; each morning he’d wake up and get dressed- usually before Cole had awoken- and sweep the monastery halls, lighting the hearth and preparing a tea boil. Cole found most of Master Wu’s tea far too bitter for his liking, but sometimes after a supply trip to the settlement the two would be treated with some sweet winterberry tea. Zane was partial to the occasional green tea, but usually opted for a simple glass of water.
Afterwards, the two boys would enjoy a quick breakfast, before preparing to spar. Though at first Zane had been hesitant to raise a weapon against his peer, gripping the bō training staff with shaky hands, he had come to look forward to these sessions. There was little risk, and as his understanding of his opponent and environment grew stronger, so too did his resolve to win.
Now, they were in the early months of Zane’s third year at the monastery. Sakura trees had begun to bloom, casting pink petals over the courtyard, and the snow had begun to slink away, basking in the warmth of the new year’s sun.
Sunlight filtered through the shoji screen window of Zane’s room, and loud birdsong droned incessantly in his ears. Lanternflies danced through the air, filling the monastery with the thrumming of their wingbeats.
Zane groaned slightly, flinching as the lurid light hit his eyes. In the time since he’d arrived at the monastery, he’d carved out a space for himself; whether it be his own favorite fruits stocked in the pantries, his own clothes neatly folded and sorted away in the once-empty dresser drawers, his bō leaning innocently against his bedroom doorframe. It was almost identical to Cole’s, but his peer’s training staff was scuffed and scratched, worn down by countless hours of relentless sparring.
Zane quickly changed out of his sleeping robes and into his gi. It was plain black, undecorated and dull, characteristic of a novice.
Zane was surprised to see that Cole’s cot was empty. His sheets were unmade, and his sleeping robes were crumpled and stuffed into the corner of the floor. Zane tsked in disapproval, quickly folding the robes and setting them on Cole’s cot before searching for his peer.
The courtyard was silent and empty, cluttered with fallen leaves and dwindling hail. Even in the balmy heat of spring, a chill ran through Zane to see the monastery so dull and lifeless.
Zane relented in his search after checking the kitchen, dining room, study and common room. He figured he may as well prepare a tea boil for when Master Wu and Cole returned. The tall red exit doors had seemed to grow lighter in the last two years, his thin frame becoming lithe and well-muscled. Still, he had to heave them open today, figuring that in the fresh rains the wood had expanded overnight.
There, by the water spring, sat Cole. He swung his feet idly over the cliff’s edge, surveying the sweeping steppes and spare forests beyond the Monastery. His amber gaze was vacant, and his hair was untidy and unkempt.
“Cole?” Zane asked tentatively. The boy nodded his acknowledgment of Zane’s presence, but when he received no answer, Zane took a seat beside him.
The winds were plentiful that day, but not strong. They ran their fingers through Zane’s hair, and the carding sensation sent shivers down his spine, evoking a memory he couldn’t quite grasp.
“Cole? What is the matter, my friend?” The boy sniffled, turning to stare at his hands, folded neatly in his lap. Zane lay a hand on his shoulder, concerned but uncertain of how to assist.
“Master Wu just left.” Cole said, voice bitter and hollow. “He told me he’s bringing back a third ninja with him.”