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Master Arthur Hibernus wandered through the cold forest, the sun shining brightly between the sparse, gangly birch trees that stretched high into the air. Master Hibernus coughed into the sleeve of his blue cloak, his lungs aching as he did. Putting all of his weight into his expertly carved cane, he walked in the direction of what appeared to be an exceptionally large and thick tree just on the horizon.
The cold air made the old man’s exposed face and hands sting, his thin white hair blowing in his face. It was ironic, he thought; the ice and snow were, in the most literal sense, his element. Now here he was, painstakingly trudging through the layer of snow covering the ground, wrapped up like an infant to keep the cold at bay. It made his muscles, well-kept yet worn from prolonged decades of noble battles, ache. It was sapping the much-needed warmth from them. Once again the old Master found this almost amusingly ironic. Heat was the last thing he thought he’d ever need.
By that especially large tree, Hibernus could see a pair of figures moving. Now with a clearly defined purpose, the man moved toward them. The old Master coughed. A good announcement of his presence, he thought as he neared the strangers. Master Hibernus waved a hand in the air, and one figure responded with a wave of its own.
The figures soon became clear as Hibernus grew close: A young man, his hair sticking up straight like a flat paintbrush, dutifully chopped logs with swift, fluid motions, and an older man stood by the tree, sipping something hot from a cup. Coming within earshot, Master Hibernus spoke.
“Excuse me,” He said, his voice gruff from whatever illness had taken hold of his lungs. He cleared his throat and tried again, “Excuse me!” He called, louder this time.
The older of the two stepped toward Master Hibernus, much quicker than Master Hibernus could’ve. His hair might once have been a rich brown, though age had begun to take its toll. He wore thin silver glasses and a white coat.
“Good afternoon!” The older man said jovially, adjusting his small glasses, “It’s not often we get visitors around here. Is there something we could do for you?”
“I hate to be a nuisance,” Master Hibernus replied, “But do you suppose I could take a rest here? Just long enough to warm up these old bones.”
“Oh, why of course!” The man replied, “My name is Dr. Julien- not that sort of doctor- and over here is my son, Zane,” Dr. Julien said, taking Hibernus’ hand in his own and shaking it before turning his head, “Oh, Zane?” He called out.
The young man dropped the axe and approached. He wore plain, all-white garments, nearly blending into the snow.
“Is something the matter, father?” The boy, Zane, asked.
“Our guest here needs a rest,” Dr. Julien said, “Help me take him inside and make him comfortable, would you?”
“Inside?” Master Hibernus asked.
Zane nodded and walked toward the large tree. Or, Master Hibernus realized, a large hatch shape, on what was carefully designed to look like a tree. On this shape was a valve, which the boy turned. The hatch- or door- swung open, revealing a warm, well-lit interior, with shelves full of tools and strange objects aligning the walls. WIth an arm on Hibernus’ shoulder, Dr. Julien guided him inside, to a table and set of chairs that sat at one side of the round interior. One flight of stairs led upward, and another led down. Master Hibernus sat down and, after a brief thank you, introduced himself.
“I’ll go make you something to eat. And, Zane? Fetch him something to drink as well, thank you,” Dr. Julien said, hurrying down the staircase that led below.
“Yes, father,” Zane said, setting about the task of fetching a drink of water from the sink as if he’d done it a thousand times and thought nothing of it.
Zane brought the glass back to Master Hibernus, who took a large drink before clearing his throat and turning his attention to Zane.
“You’re a curious young fellow, aren’t you?” Asked Hibernus as he watched the young man’s movements, “Tell me a little about yourself, won’t you?”
“I am Zane,” The boy said, “I was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. But mostly, I help Dr. Julien with chores.”
Master Hibernus laughed, “That’s a funny way of putting it. I suppose I could describe myself the same. I’ve spent a long time fighting to protect the innocent, now I fear those years have finally caught up to me.”
“Why is that, Master Hibernus?” Zane asked, tilting his head.
“I’m old,” Master Hibernus said simply with something of a chuckle, “And, please, call me Arthur.”
After some time, Dr. Julien returned up the stairs, carrying two steaming bowls with spoons already inside. He sat one down in front of Master Hibernus and took a seat across from him. Zane stood idly by.
“It’s not much, but it helps me when I feel ill,” Dr. Julien said with a smile.
“Thank you so much,” Master Hibernus said, “You’re too kind, really,” He took a spoonful and blew on it, then eyed Zane curiously, “Zane, boy, aren’t you going to have any?”
“Oh, he doesn’t need to eat,” Dr. Julien said with a laugh.
“Doesn’t he?” Master Hibernus said, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh! No no, I don’t starve the boy,” Dr. Julien laughed with a hint of nervousness, “It’s just- he’s- well, it’s hard to explain. Let me just…”
Dr. Julien reached over to Zane and pulled something Master Hibernus couldn’t see. In a confusing moment, the boy’s stomach opened, revealing an inside cavity of clockwork and mechanical systems, circuits and switches. A symbol of some kind had been stamped onto the back of the stomach-hatch. Hibernus watched in awe, his eyes widening as he comprehended what he’d just seen.
“Fascinating…” was all the old man could muster.
“I built him myself,” Dr. Julien said, closing the boy’s stomach, “I built everything you see here, actually,” He said, gesturing to all of the mechanical devices and pipes along the walls.
Master Hibernus looked at Zane, “But he looks so… Human.”
“Doesn’t he?” Dr. Julien said with a proud smile, “He’s almost there, at any rate. Oh, that reminds me!”
Dr. Julien whistled, and the “caw!” of a bird came from above. A black shape flew down and landed on the old doctor’s shoulder. It was a bird, some kind of falcon. It sat and pecked at its wing idly. It was lifelike, but after what he’d just seen, Master Hibernus suspected otherwise.
“Another one of yours?” Master Hibernus asked.
The doctor smiled brightly, “Indeed.”
The two older men sat and ate their stew for a while longer, Master Hibernus continuing to give his many thanks as he processed what he was seeing. It was nothing short of incredible, to create something that looked so alive, that looked so human. Zane certainly could’ve fooled Master Hibernus for a real, if strange young man. Master Hibernus looked at the boy curiously until Dr. Julien dismissed him, requesting that he restock the fireplace. Zane obliged quickly and trotted down the stairs.
“So,” Master Hibernus said, his voice stronger already, “What was it that led you to making him?”
Dr. Julien shrugged, “It gets lonely out here. Zane makes it less so. I figured it was too late for me to have children of my own, so I solved that problem the way I solve all my problems: by building one.”
Master Hibernus nodded, “I have no family, either,” He looked down at his stew, his expression softening as he finished the bowl. Not anymore, I don’t.
After a moment, the old man lifted his head, “Say, do you suppose you could fetch me another bowl? And do you think you could send your… son, up here as well? I’d like a word with him.”
“Oh, of course,” Dr. Julien said, taking a last spoonful of his own bowl before descending the stairs.
A moment later, Zane appeared, stepping toward the old Master and the table, “You wanted to see me, Master Hibernus?”
Master Hibernus gave a smile and gestured Zane closer. Zane obliged, and Arthur gave him another long look.
‘You said your purpose was to protect others?” Master Hibernus asked.
“Yes, I was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”
Master Hibernus nodded, looking back down at the table, “So was I. I’ve been fighting to protect others for many, many years. I’ve had a long life, but I fear I haven’t got much time left.”
Master Hibernus looked back up, meeting Zane’s eyes with a hard look, “Zane, how far would you go to protect the innocent? What would you do?”
Zane gave a puzzled look, “I would do anything, Master Hibernus. Why do you ask?”
“I have… A request for you, Zane.”
“What is it?”
The old man lifted a shaking hand, and it began to glow a soft pale blue, a flurry of small, fluffy shapes circling around it. Holding Zane’s arm with his other hand, he lifted the glowing hand to the boy’s heart. Or at least, where a heart should be.
“It’s more of a job, really,” Master Hibernus explained, “I need you to continue your purpose. Protect the innocent, those who can’t protect themselves. I have no family to leave this job to, so I’m entrusting it to you.”
Zane’s eyes lit up an ethereal blue, and for the first time, Arthur heard his voice falter, “I- I don’t understand.”
Master Hibernus chuckled to himself as he held his hand over Zane’s would-be heart, “You will.”
The light slowly left the old Master’s hand. Zane stood still, his eyes glowing that same blue. With a smile, Master Hibernus slowly rose to his feet. Taking his cane, he made his way toward the door.
“Tell your father I say thank you, would you?” Master Hibernus asked. And with that, he opened the door, stepping out into the cold as it fell closed behind him.
Zane stood frozen in place. He had lost track of his senses, overwhelmed by a strange sensation unlike anything he’d felt before. An unusual chill coursed through him. He sat, captivated by the feeling for what felt like an eternity. When at last his senses returned to him, his father was returning back up the stairs.
“Father,” Zane said, shaking his head, “Father, where is Arthur?”
Dr. Julien looked left and right. He set the fresh bowl on the table, and peeked up the stairs. He opened the door and looked out into the wintery forest, seeing nothing. The old man was gone.
Dr. Julien adjusted his glasses, “How peculiar.”
Zane looked down at his shining titanium hands. His distorted reflection looked back, and he felt something weighing down on his shoulders, an unease in his stomach. Zane rose from bed, stood, and looked around. It was still early in the morning, and everything was quiet.
The wooden boards creaked below Zane’s feet as he stepped through the quiet halls of the monastery. Heading out to the front, he found Master Wu, as he knew he would, sitting and enjoying his early morning tea.
Master Wu turned toward the sound of footsteps and smiled, “Good morning, Zane. You’re up early.”
“Good morning, Master Wu,” Zane said, taking a seat beside Wu, “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Master Wu nodded, taking another sip of tea.
“I feel… guilty,” Zane said.
“Why is that?” Wu asked.
“I’m not the same Nindroid my father made,” Zane explained, “All of my parts are different. He had a vision when he created me, and I’ve changed it. Is that wrong?”
Master Wu took another drink and stroked his beard as he pondered the question.
“None of us are who our parents made us, Zane. My father didn’t create an old man, my brother didn’t create the Green Ninja, and your father didn’t create the Master of Ice. I have no doubt your father would be thrilled with who you’ve become. We all grow, and we all change. It’s part of being human.”
Zane sat for a moment and replied, “But, I’m not human.”
Master Wu set his cup down and turned his body to face Zane, “You’re nearly human, Zane, and that’s more than enough.”