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You grab a nearby rock and crush it in your hand. Grabbing the sharpest shard you dig it into the stone floor and carve into you. Your name, Shifu's, Xin Lan's, Ming's, Bao's, Shenlong's, and even Tigress's before tossing aside the worn down rock. "I'm like my friend I suppose. Always vanishing like that wind." You say before pulling your father into a tight hug. "But while either of us are still here, we'll always be home. Like I said, home is who I care for and who cares for me." Shifu stiffens for a moment before he wraps his arms around you as tightly as he can.
"Be safe my son. Come home again." He whispers. You feel something dampen your shirt but you think nothing of it. It must be some morning dew.
"I will father." You reply as you feel your face dampen as well. You pull back after a while and give Shifu a smile. "After all, I still have one name left to carve and I'd rather do it with him here." You father gives you a bemused look.
"We could have simply written the names on a scroll or perhaps had a tapestry made." Your father says and you shrug.
"I don't think it's quite a visit if something didn't get vandalized while I was here. Usually things don't end this calmly." You joke. "Think of it as making up for lost time as a child. I'm sure most kids have carved their names into something that they shouldn't have." You pat your father on the back. "I should be going. I can't keep the others waiting." You say.
"I wish I could simply part ways so nonchalantly." Shifu replies as he tries to cough something down. "Go well, my son."
---
Luo was just as easily found as your father. In the days after his arrival, he had made the Palace's records room his own little study. More or less a small library, the room served to house any important documents as well and any tomes or books of martial arts. One wasn't going to find much beyond that but you seem to recall seeing an old historical scroll here and there growing up. In fact, you were a bit surprised that the Palace wasn't one of the few repositories that contained the royal family's secrets much like the first town that you had found burned down. Perhaps Oogway had some hand in that or perhaps it was simply too obvious a target.
You find the old goat leaning back on his chair surrounded by more paper that you think you've ever seen in your life. Even Ming's piles didn't rival that amount of paper you saw here. There were pillars scattered about, books open and stacked with dozens of small book marks poking out. Littered throughout the room were empty bottles of ink, used brushes, and various other writing implements. You wonder how the old man even managed to find so much of it and even then found a way to get anything else into the room such as the hot cup of tea in his hands. He leans back farther causing the chair to threaten to topple over and blows the steam away from his cup. "Reminds me of my younger years..." He says contently.
