"NIGHTMARES FOR A NINJA" BOOK 4:
"OF YIN AND YANG"
(the book of the Originals)
based off a hit television series featured on "Cartoon Network,"
Ninjago:Masters of Spinjitzu

CHAPTER ONE:
BIRTHRIGHT

The tea shop was quiet, dull, and dreary, lacking any kind of extreme premonitions of evil. Monday mornings were usually that way, if one disclaimed the oddities that usually were encountered on Mondays. But in all of its unusually usual Mondayness, this particular Monday was one that stuck out worse than a sore thumb. The empty shop echoed with the current newscasts that were televised all over the displaced continent of Ninjago. All news reports were centered around the strange phenomena that had occurred some time ago on the site of Darkley's Boarding School for Bad Boys, as well as the strange attack of the reporter Gayle Gossip, and the blood-drained body of Darreth Troother found earlier that morning. The room, square and utterly condensed, reeked of old herbs and medications, preferably wanted over the disgust of actual hospitals. Along the back shelf, stacked twelve rows high, bottled mixtures and self-canned remedies rotted with a lonely ledge life. A small, square television hung in the corner of Mystake's brewery room hidden in the back of the shop, where she and her apprentice-slash-niece, Linh, found themselves glued to the subtitles and replacement reporter's face. Beth Blather stared back with a grim, pinched face.

"The cause of the attack is still unknown, but investigators are doing their best to uncover just who this redheaded attacker is and what their motivation could've carried." Beth swapped her ball-headed microphone to the other side, swiftly patting down her overdone blonde hair with intent that did her no good. Mystake paused in crunching sage with her bare hands to watch closer. Beth slightly shifted to the side to show, behind her, the view of Darkley's Boarding School for Bad Boys, in the midst of being demolished by several different destruction companies.

"On a more recent note," announced the reporter, waving her hand at the building. The top had already been torn off, leaving for the middle sections to be destroyed by a wrecking ball anytime soon. "The number of mysteries in Ninjago is beginning to increase, and strangely they're circulating around Ninjago's heroes, the unbreakable team of ninjas. The ninja have been missing for almost an entire two months since all these strange cases have occurred. It stirs up a lot of questions with the public. Are the ninja behind these killings? If not, what are they doing to stop it?" Beth looked entirely concerned, but Mystake knew that it only circulated around the production of the broadcast. The only concern the reporter had was whether or not her facial expressions would earn her a bigger check by the end of the day.

Mystake bent her head to continue grinding the sage into pulp while Linh stuck her nose into a grimoire at the table behind her. The old woman's fingers shook. She'd been doing this for so many years now that it was nearly impossible to forget the exact process it took to create a batch of Tomorrow or Never cookies. She had a special order come in this morning for two dozen of them to be finished by the evening. Whoever had been on the other end of the phone seemed greatly interested in making their future brighter with the risky use of Tomorrow or Never cookies, but whomever it was had ordered just enough to earn Mystake a handsome profit. She gently kneaded the sage into a roll of dough ready for flattening when she listened into Beth Blather's constant tone that everything she said shocked her.

"…recent arrest of Kai Smith for the brutal stabbing of fourteen-year-old Bradford Tudabone," said Beth, making Mystake's head cock to listen closer. Now this was the action an old lady wanted to hear. "Bradford was found stabbed on the scene of Darkley's almost a complete two months ago with twenty-seven stab wounds to his body total. Though police keep the location of the lacerations confidential, it is apparent that this murder was committed with the intent to kill. The suspect's fingerprints were found all over the body, marked with blood, along with the murder weapon, which was found nearby later the day of the investigation. It appears that what Smith used to attack Tudabone was a large animal tooth the size of the average adult male's foot. Police are unsure of the motives, but Smith pleads not guilty in the upcoming trial that will take place on the twelfth of December. Smith was also later revealed to be a part of the ninja's team when police removed his mask." Beth paused, taking a breath that gave her the chance to stare awkwardly into the camera. Mystake listened for the maintenance of her news report while jamming in wither seeds to the dough.

"Police ask anyone who has any information to come forward. It's greatly imperative that—"

Ding.

Mystake's head snapped up. The chime attached to her front door rarely ever rang. She checked her clock to make sure it wasn't the customer ready to pick up their cookies—it was only eleven-thirty—before wiping her hands to venture into the tea shop's main room.

She found the browser lightly scanning the shelves behind the front counter underneath the thick black sheen of sunglasses over his eyes. His nose twisted into a grimace. Mystake hadn't seen him come near the shop before; she would've remembered his face, young, handsome, and strangely pale. His red hair changed shadow formations with the lever-induced, single light bulb that dangled over their heads. "Can I help you?" rasped the elderly woman. She placed her hands against the wooden counter for support.

The boy scanned the shelves again, popping the collar of his dark button down with the curl of his lip. "Yeah. I'm here for a dose of Tomorrow's Tea. You got any?" He pressed, leaning backwards slightly, as if to assess Mystake's reaction. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"And what might you need Tomorrow's Tea for?" she asked in reference of today. Her thin fingers drummed lightly against the rotten wood.

The boy's sunglasses flashed. "I have business to do, lady. Now where is it? I need it."

Mystake twitched her nose. "No manners?" She stalled, waiting for a proper answer, but the boy sneered.

"Are you deaf? I said, I have business to do. Hurry up and give me a dose." He reached into his pocket, pulling out several golden coins in the process. They landed against her counter with feeble clinks. "Do it. I'm getting angry."

"I would advise," Mystake reeled, bending downwards underneath the counter to grab an on-the-go vial. Her payments today were large enough to pay off rent for the next two months. Holding the vial carefully in her hands, she glared into her reflection, pushed against the sunglasses over the boy's face. His pale, almost yellowing skin wrinkled when he scowled again, "that you be especially careful with this. Once you use it, its effects cannot be undone."

"Yeah, yeah, that's kinda the point, grandma," snapped the boy insultingly. "Gimme." Without waiting for her, he snatched it greedily out her hands, pocketing the small vial before she could blink. His manners were extremely poor. Mystake wondered about his mother's usefulness while watching him quickly retreat out the door. He was an odd character, but Mystake's intentions were more focused on the seventeen golden coins sitting in front of her face. She grabbed them and stuffed them into her pocket without waiting for fate to steal them back.

She turned to retreat back into the cozy cave of her brewery, but instead found the ding happening again. She wondered if it was the boy, returning for his money back, except she was wrong. Mystake turned to her next prominent customer with a blink. "Can I help you?" she drawled. The cookies were waiting.

The customer sized her up with a squinted gaze. Crystalline blue eyes stared at her underneath heavy blonde bangs, covering her thin eyebrows under a polish of gold, although the elegance of her hair and golden halo was countered by sloppy gray sweatpants and a T-shirt. She scanned the shelves behind Mystake as the previous client's had, except this one was much slower, calculating. The girl was in no rush. Instead, she pondered her choice before giving a direct answer. "Do you have…adder root?" She asked politely, holding in her hand a thin slip of paper. She seemed to have grabbed it from the brown, tattered messenger bag resting on her shoulder. "And chamomile? How about dragon's blood?"

"Slow," Mystake cautioned, but moved towards her back row to search for the adder root. She found the brown, earthy plant cased in a jar on the third bottom shelf. She placed it gently in a plastic baggie so it wouldn't be contaminated. She set it on the counter in front of the blonde girl before turning back for chamomile.

The dragon's blood wasn't hard to find, but the girl's next ingredient was. "Do you have Star Lover's Lip?" she asked. Mystake had to think about the last place she'd seen the flower. "Oh, and Essence of Combination?"

Mystake plucked the liquid bottle off the shelf, pouring a few drops into a vial similar to that of the boy's. The girl neatly placed the contents in her bag while, in return, exchanging them for small silver coins in pay for every herb she took. She squinted at her list. "Erm…do you possess…Birthright?"

Mystake froze. She felt her blood run cold. "By George, what do you need Birthright for?" she practically snapped. "That's a dangerous herb. It's used for Dark Magic, girl, don't you know what you're—" The old woman paused. She ran the list of ingredients the girl had already read off to her a few times in her head before the combination of plants and mixtures began to sound familiar. The Birthright only sealed the doom that Mystake knew this girl would be fulfilling if she sold her a flower.

"You're conducting a spell for Dark Magic," Mystake ogled. "You want to create a resurrection spell, don't you?"

The girl's eyes flashed. "I need to," she answered flatly.

"Girl, you don't know what you're getting into," Mystake responded quickly. "The consequences of resurrection spells are terrible. You don't want to have to upset the balance; an exchange for a lost life has to be made—"

"With a living one," finished the girl, nodding. Her eyes betrayed nothing. "I know. But I already have what I need, except that Birthright."

Mystake shook her head. It was far too dangerous. "I can't give you any. If I did…Whoever you're trying to bring back would be better off dead. There are worse consequences to what you're doing than just taking a human sacrifice. Dark Magic—Black Magic—you'll bring yourself closer to becoming a dark necromancer over a witch. I know you are," she added hastily with a sly look as the girl blushed. "No mere mortal would know about the Birthright Resurrection spell. Your mama must've had a mean grimoire."

The girl barely blinked. Mystake couldn't sway her. "My mother was an extremely powerful witch," answered the buyer, glancing around the room in boredom. Her eyes settled on Mystake with a grim flatten to her pink lips. "And I must have that Birthright. I'm sorry. But I need it. M-my son…" The girls' voice trailed away as quick as it had come. She looked at her feet.

Mystake sighed. It was a tough debate. On one hand, if she handed it over, the girl would be conducting Black Magic, and that was dangerous, able to endanger more than one life. On the other hand, the old woman knew what it was like to lose sight of someone you loved. She glanced at the Birthright, sheltered underneath the counter beside the Tomorrow's Tea, and sighed.

"You had better be careful," she warned, plucking the small bloom from below. The girl's head snapped up as Mystake passed on the small jar, filled with only one white blossom, thriving in its cage. The girl reached forward to take the can preciously in her hands, accidentally bumping the older woman with her fingertips.

Mystake was hit with the premonition instantly. Images, faces, information flooded into her body. A revelation echoed in her mind as she recoiled. "You," she gasped towards the girl, returning from tucking the Birthright jar safely into her messenger's bag. Mystake's hand shook. "Y-you're…I've heard about you."

The girl dropped two silver pieces onto the counter in front of her. "So?" She raised a nonchalant brow. "What of it?"

"You're Danielle tŭmnina!" Mystake gasped, shuffling backwards. The girl hardly blinked. "Twin of that wretched baka, Carolyne. Tŭmnina, I remember!" She rubbed her face. "I was just a girl when I first met you. How witchcraft has kept you young! I long to have that kind of magic. But that's only because you…" Swallowing, Mystake strived to regain control of herself, taking deep breaths repeatedly. This wasn't much to get overexcited about. "You're the daughter of the originale pythonissam. The Original Witch. Katherine."

Danielle stared at her. Her voice stayed level as she spoke. "Yes," she answered simply, clutching the strap of her bag. Mystake took another breath. "My mother was Katherine."

Mystake shook her head, turning away slightly. How extremely convenient to meet Danielle, Tŭmnina, Juliens. How strange! She remembered seeing the twins last when she was Linh's age. The strong witchcraft derived from Danielle's mother, the Original Witch, must've really been soaked straight from the tank. Mystake couldn't have kept herself such well-aged no matter what she did.

Mystake meant to turn back to Danielle with a comment about Katherine—Katerina, as she was called back then—but the daughter of the Original Witch, the purchaser of the dangerous Birthright Blossom, was gone.

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