The Steel Magnolia

The bright sun peeked its peach face halfway above the horizon, casting its saturated light upon the rocky cliffs and trees. Creatures big and small awoke to this newfound daytime that was swallowing the land around them. As the sun slowly rose higher, shadows crept away to let orange illumination drench the once white tents. The light seeped through the cloth to brighten the inside. There were no sounds to be heard, not even birds chirping musically in the distance. The silence gave the area a peaceful aura. At this scenic time, only one soul was awake, though soon to be three.

“WAKE UP, SISTA!”

Mulan groaned as Mushu shouted in her ear. She threw the pillow over her head, trying in vain to muffle the sound. Mushu jumped up and down elatedly beside her tousled head.
Cri-Kee squeaked in annoyance to her left, springing up and putting his hands on his hips. His insect face was scowling at his thin red friend. Some friend, he thought.

“C'mon, c'mon! Up up up!” We got a full tray of fresh new recruits to whip into shape!”

Mushu scowled as Mulan failed (or simply refused) to move. Stripping her of her blankets, he pushed the neatly folded pile of training clothes towards her.
Rubbing her eyes, the blurry scarlet silhouette of her guardian slowly came into view. She scratched her messy head and scowled at him, desperately praying for him to stop yammering on about the 'fresh new recruits'. She angrily (and somewhat drunkenly) smacked him against the wall of the tent before she proceeded to change.

The sun still wasn't fully risen when she left her tent. Stretching her arms, she looked out; the rows upon rows of tents were the picture of tranquility. They were uniform, each of identical size and color to its neighbor. Only hers and Shang's tents were different, even different from each other. Shang's was larger and grander, the Chinese flag's symbol painted majestically on the front. Mulan's tent was a hair smaller, and the painted graphics were less intricate. Mulan noted this in her mind, but hadn't bothered to look to the adjacent General's tent; if she had, she would have seen him emerge from it.

Shang observed her delicate figure. The still-rising sun shone upon her face to give her skin an apricot glow, making her complexion an embodiment of beauty. Her eyes were still dewy from the morning haze, and when she realized his presence and turned to greet him, her soft smile was still bright enough to light up the Emperor's Grand Hall. His only instinct was to smile back—if not out of politeness, then at the sight of something so pleasant.

As the sun slowly ascended higher into the sky, soldiers began to awaken, few by few. Mulan watched the repetitive procession: come out of the tent, yawn, stretch, walk away. It wasn't long before their daily brawl had begun.
She looked uneasily at Shang, who wore a slight smirk as he beckoned her with his eyes. She sighed inwardly as she walked past him to confront the pile of warriors.

“Gee, I wonder what happened to 'swiftly and silently'?” she wondered loudly over the pandemonium.

Upon the sound of her voice, a slight expression of fear and/or disdain crossed many faces before the soldiers aligned again.
She walked back and forth, inspected the row; young and old, inexperienced and seasoned, it was a melting pot of age and knowledge. There were boys who didn't look a day older that 13 and men who looked to be a few years younger than her father. Both of these sights pulled at her heartstrings a bit, but she put the most precious thing she had learned from Shang into action--never show weakness around your inferiors.
Feeling Shang's eyes on her back, it was only at this moment that she remembered her negligence to plan today's training. Oh well, she thought. Today's lesson would just have to be extemporaneous. She summoned a young camp guard, whispering strict instructions to him and then sending him off to the supplies tent before turning back to face the soldiers.

She marched the men away to a brush-secluded area near the cliffs, where planks, arrows, and pomegranates were awaiting them. Three fruits were weighing down one end of each plank, which was propped up on a small rock. The bow and arrows lay beside it.

Some men were confused, others groaned. One singular man in the back smiled and laughed.

She picked up three arrows from a nearby quiver. Shutting one eye so as to focus, she stomped on the free end of the plank, and shot the arrows through the fruits with impeccable aim. Her inferiors marveled as the fruits hit the targets painted on the tree dead-on. Mulan smirked as a chorus of gasps and “How does she do that?” reached her ears.

After her demonstration, she had gotten her pupils set up and was now patrolling the row, correcting formation and giving aim tips. Aside from her three, only one other person had gotten his fruits on the targets, though Mulan hadn't been able to catch who. She could guess, though, when she saw his broad shoulders and glistening bare back, his arm poised to shoot another round.

“Shang?”

He turned his head towards her and smiled, lowering his bow.

“Shang, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see how skilled a teacher the illustrious Captain Fa was.”

Mulan was confused, this whole situation beyond comprehension to her. Shang was her superior, the General, yet here he was, under her tutelage. It was still only her second day here, and things were getting much weirder than she wanted them to.

“Shang, this is absolutely ridiculous. You were the one who taught me all of this yourself. Now go—“

“Shh,” he put a finger to his lips. “I'm trying to concentrate.”

Mulan watched in shock and disbelief as Shang arranged three more pomegranates on the edge of his plank, shooting them directly into the tree once again. Finally, defeated, she threw her hands up and stalked off, rolling her eyes and going to fix the way a recruit was standing.

Later on in the exercise, Chi Fu had appeared with his ever-present clipboard and calligraphy brush, looking haughtily upon the failing soldiers and stopping every once in a while to take a note. Mulan was irked by his presence, but decided to disregard it as she worked with the soldiers. When a recruit failed yet again under instruction, Chi Fu would let out a 'hmph' of disapproval and went back to his clipboard. Silly little bat, Mulan thought with a scowl.

Mulan was working with Mu Pao, a recruit no more than a week older than fifteen, when it happened. She had managed to shift his arm into the proper position, but his arm jerked suddenly as he let go of the arrow. Mulan had tried to warn Chi Fu of the speeding arrow, but it was too late as his loud, feminine shriek pierced the air. She would not be surprised if many of the glass cups back at camp had shattered with that sound.
She held her hands over her eyes, and when she removed them, she found the scrawny man passed out on the ground, an arrow sticking out from his right foot.

Chien-Po picked him up and carried him back to the medic's tent. Mulan suppressed maniacal laughter as she returned to her pedagogy.