WHITE TIGRESS GODDESS

The Shaman King's armies carried the tattered and bloodied flags of the Tortoise and  Snake as they fled from the battlefield. The armies of the Shaman King had retreated from the battlefield, weary from the loss of the battle and the loss of their great King. The magic of their Gods was weaker than the White Elephant God’s magic, and now deep doubts about the future were harbored. The elite guards of the Shaman King fought to their deaths as they kept their King safe.

The armies of the White Elephant God did not pursue the retreating Shang armies. There had been a great loss of life on both sides and the White Elephant King knew that the greatest defeat for the Shang was disgrace. The king also knew that many of the Generals and warriors would be sacrificed to their blood thirsty serpent god Shang Ti  instead of his warriors. This thought brought him comfort and justice.

The body of the Shaman King was hidden from the sight of the warriors as ordered by the Generals. The guards were told to pass on rumors that the Shaman King was well and that he was only resting in his closed carriage. Inside the closed carriage, the Shaman Kings body lay motionless and cold. His priest and his healers could do nothing to bring life back to his body. Onward the armies of the Shang moved until they were exhausted and had to camp for rest. A group of priests began to sing hymns and chant prayers to the Shang Gods. Another group of priests prepared for sacrifice to their gods captured White Elephant warriors. A priest prayed to their gods as they cut the hearts and livers from the screaming warriors to feed the gods. Having fed their gods, the priest begged them with prayers to perform a miracle to heal the Shaman King’s lifeless body.

The priest filled the Shaman King's blood cup with the blood of a heart that was freshly cut out of the body of a White Elephant warrior. Upon filling the Shaman Kings blood cup with the warm blood of a fresh heart, a priest blessed the life-giving substance and took it to the Shaman's carriage. When the carriage was opened the priest dropped the cup to ground and let out a scream of panic- the carriage was empty and there was no trace of the Shaman King’s body.  The generals, priests and healers were all in great shock over the powerful magic. It was inconceivable how the body of the Shaman King could have vanished into thin air while the healers attended him and while his elite bodyguards surrounded him.

Was the white magic of the Elephant god more powerful than the magic of the Shang gods? Was the sorcery’s power so great that it had sent the Shaman King into the bowls of the earth? Such frightful thoughts were shared secretly amongst them but no one dared to utter these thoughts. That same night two generals killed themselves, believing it was better to die than to face total disgrace in front of the Emperor of the house of Shang.

From darkness came light as the Shaman King opened his eyes to the light of day. His first thought was that he was in the afterlife with the Gods, but suddenly a sharp pain racked his body making him realize that he was alive. His mind was now awake but his body could not move to his will. The smell of mildew and smoke filled his nostrils. He knew now that he was indeed very much alive.

"You are awake," an old man’s voice said in a musical tone that expressed pleasant surprise. The Shaman King could not respond but his eyes moved nervously about the room confused and disorientated.  "I am Cao Bao the healer and you are in my care," the old man said. The face of an old white bearded man came out of the darkness and into the sight of the Shaman King. The old mans lips moved slowly, "Our people, the Zhou, brought you to me. I knew you were coming here because the White Tiger told me you would soon arrive. The gods of the Zhou bless you because if you had remained with the Shang you would now be dead. I know what you are thinking. I know you would rather be dead than to be dishonored.  I am Zhou and you are Zhou and the greatest dishonor is not to serve our people," the old man said proudly.

The old man's words filled the Shaman King with such anger that it made him want to spit into old man's aged and wrinkled face, but his lips defied his will. "You are completely paralyzed, you cannot move your body because I am healing you. Oh mighty King forgive me, but you can do nothing but to listen to my words of truth. Your life has been a lie because you have only lived your life to fulfill the evil deeds of the house of the Shang. I know these words anger you, but the suffering of my people angers the gods," the old man spoke with sorrow in his voice. "I do not expect you to understand my words for I am just an old man but soon when the White Tiger comes, you will hear her words of truth inside your heart." With those words said the old man's face faded from the Shaman Kings view.

Filled with anger and pain the King closed his eyes and fell back into darkness. Days passed and the light from the darkness would come and go from time to time. The musical sounds of string instruments and flutes filled the air when light again filled his eyes. He could now finally move his body and see his surroundings more clearly. The king looked around to discover that he was lying in a large, immense cave. He suddenly realized that the Zhou were attending him … he could distinguish them by their hair and the clothes that they wore. He remembered a time when he wore the hair and the cloth of the Zhou. He remembered his Shang father taking him away from his Zhou mother while he screamed and cried for her. It seemed strange to him to be thinking of this now, as he could not even remember the last time he thought about his childhood. A tear came to his eye as he further remembered the last memories of his loving mother screaming out a name he had forgotten: "little prince". 

"Hello my little prince," a woman’s voice called out. The voice seemed so familiar. "My little prince, you have become a great man," she said tenderly. "Mother!" the Shaman King's voice rang out loud. He wondered if he was dead, for he had not seen his mother and thought her to be dead, living among the gods. His father had told him that she had died of the plague. "I am here my little prince and I am alive just like you,” his mother’s voice reassured the shocked king.

Then, an unfamiliar woman with hair as white as her robes came towards the resting Shaman King. Despite his weakness, the king’s eyes were like the ember coals of a fire as his face expressed bewilderment.

"Be still and listen to my words for they will only heal you, my child," the woman with his mother's voice said. The Shaman struggled to sit up as he summoned all the strength in his body. "My mother…" he cried out and began to weep like a little child. The slender old woman seeing his struggle sat down beside the weeping king and drew his head into her warm bosom. "You are my baby boy, you are my child. Oh, sweet little prince," the woman said softly as she cradled his head against her breasts. "The heavens have mandated your life and your destiny. It is by the power of heaven alone that we are now together in this life," her sweet voice broke into a soft cry. 

The Shaman King fell back into darkness feeling the warmth of his mother's soft body. He drifted away into the sounds of her quiet cries. A day or two passed when the Shaman King finally arose from his deathbed. His body and mind were still very weak but he gathered all his strength and toddled outside beneath the stars wrapped in the blackness of a moonless night.  As he walked, young Zhou Girls guided him steadily to the outside world and the night sky. His powerful left arm was completely limp and motionless, and his head ached with the pain of fury and revenge. It was cold outside, and the starry night sky was cloudless and clear. He stood at the entrance of the cave looking up to the stars, and pondered his destiny. The king began to think of the strange dream of his mother how real it seemed to him. Countless Stars shined like jewels as he looked upward to the domain of his ancestors. Suddenly a strange noise moved through the darkness. Hearing this sound, the king broke his upward gaze and looked toward the forest that surrounded the mouth of the cave. His eyes scanned the darkness to find the silhouette of a large beast moving slowly towards him. Strangely, he felt no fear as the shadow of the great beast approached him.