Marpa Tulku
Only Khan could orchestrate such a complete disappearance of his forces. Crime in the city returned to normal, the presence of Mongol warriors and naljorpas faded into the shadows of Chinatown, and all seemed quiet. There had been no more probing or plotting from Khan, so it seemed.
It was that quiet which had drawn him. Marpa Tulku, a great master of China’s most secret arts sat in a small, simply furnished room. A single candle burned as the gentle smell of incense filled the air and he calmed his mind, feeling the slight presence of the untrained around him. He had been surprised to learn that not only had Khan once again returned to this city, but also that the foreign student had not yet succeeded in facing him.
It was unlike the adventurous spirit to remain inactive in the face of such a great danger that even had the usually impassive priests concerned. There was suspicion that perhaps he had been defeated, or an even greater danger, that he had succumbed to Khan, or a darker calling.
Objections had been raised, but Marpa Tulku could not deny that he was needed; such a realization had been revealed to him in his meditations. Now, here he was, hidden securely away by the most powerful of New York’s Chinatown influence, Tam Sook, and looking for answers. He would seek out Khan, and then The Shadow. The clever, illusive man would not be easy to contact, but Marpa Tulku had his own methods of communication that did not require a phone line. The Shadow was open to men such as he, and he would reach out upon finding him.
Difficult indeed. Marpa had been meditating for many hours, having found two great presences within the city. The one within the nearby area had quickly been determined to be Khan, but Marpa did not desire to announce himself to the evil creature as of yet. Instead, he reached out to the other presence he had detected. It was well-veiled, surprisingly so, and he had to be mindful of his approach, should the mind close itself to him completely in an effort to stem what might be mistaken as an attack.
The presence of Marpa Tulku was gentle, he did not probe, but simply inquired. Sending his mental self out, trying to see what he could as he focused carefully on the force of the mind. It was most certainly the one he sought, but the presence had grown far greater than any of the priests had predicted would be possible for the time he’d had since leaving the discipline. There was also something else that made the mind feel different than Marpa had been expecting. Still, he knew he could not be mistaken, and gently, he called out to the presence.
Allard.
It was that quiet which had drawn him. Marpa Tulku, a great master of China’s most secret arts sat in a small, simply furnished room. A single candle burned as the gentle smell of incense filled the air and he calmed his mind, feeling the slight presence of the untrained around him. He had been surprised to learn that not only had Khan once again returned to this city, but also that the foreign student had not yet succeeded in facing him.
It was unlike the adventurous spirit to remain inactive in the face of such a great danger that even had the usually impassive priests concerned. There was suspicion that perhaps he had been defeated, or an even greater danger, that he had succumbed to Khan, or a darker calling.
Objections had been raised, but Marpa Tulku could not deny that he was needed; such a realization had been revealed to him in his meditations. Now, here he was, hidden securely away by the most powerful of New York’s Chinatown influence, Tam Sook, and looking for answers. He would seek out Khan, and then The Shadow. The clever, illusive man would not be easy to contact, but Marpa Tulku had his own methods of communication that did not require a phone line. The Shadow was open to men such as he, and he would reach out upon finding him.
Difficult indeed. Marpa had been meditating for many hours, having found two great presences within the city. The one within the nearby area had quickly been determined to be Khan, but Marpa did not desire to announce himself to the evil creature as of yet. Instead, he reached out to the other presence he had detected. It was well-veiled, surprisingly so, and he had to be mindful of his approach, should the mind close itself to him completely in an effort to stem what might be mistaken as an attack.
The presence of Marpa Tulku was gentle, he did not probe, but simply inquired. Sending his mental self out, trying to see what he could as he focused carefully on the force of the mind. It was most certainly the one he sought, but the presence had grown far greater than any of the priests had predicted would be possible for the time he’d had since leaving the discipline. There was also something else that made the mind feel different than Marpa had been expecting. Still, he knew he could not be mistaken, and gently, he called out to the presence.
Allard.