The Child in the Tower
"What's that Syaoran?" Mokona asked perched on Syaoran's shoulder. Like any hunt for Sakura's feathers in a place where strange events were happening, the best place to search was the library. However, this particular village did not have a library but rather a small bookstore. The party stood in the fictional section; more specifically the fairy tales. For, they had learned from previous adventures that sometimes fairy tales and legends were not so fictional after all.
Kurogane leaned nonchalantly on the book shelf, looking over Syaoran as he had found a particular interest in a certain book. The shelves were rather fragile and if Kurogane wasn't careful he would certainly knock it over. Fai was on the other side of Syaoran, his usual happy-go-lucky smirk present. Sakura sat in the only chair provided by the store; she certainly wasn't her strongest at the moment.
"It's a story about a girl in a tower," Syaoran explained as he skimmed the contents of the book while also studying the illustrations that brought the story to life. "Long ago, the Queen of this kingdom was about to have a baby. But she was very ill so the King sent his army to find a magic flower—"
"Not feather?" Kurogane asked right away.
"No, it says flower," Syaoran replied. He held the book up which showed an illustration of a flower.
"It could still be the feather. Stories change over time after all," Fai reasoned as he too gazed upon the picture. "What happens next?"
"The King eventually found the flower in the possession of an old woman. The old woman agreed to give him the flower. But in return, the woman would come and take the child when it was born."
"How awful," Sakura murmured quietly. Syaoran nodded grimly in agreement before turning to the next page.
"That's not a very nice king," Mokona remarked.
"The King agreed and when the child was born, the old woman came to fetch the little girl. She then locked the girl in a tower, completely closed off from the outside world." This time, the picture happened to be on Fai's side. His ice blue eyes fell on the little girl sitting in a tall tower all alone. Her face was mostly hidden due to her fair hair as she stared out the only window the tower provided, the only gateway to freedom.
It wasn't as nice of a tower as the one the picture described though. It was tall, yes, but it was pointed at the end. As if it were a giant spike sticking out of the ground. And the floor of the tower was not so high up but was actually on the ground level. It wasn't as nicely furnished as the one in the painting. The one in the painting looked to be a decent room, perhaps even a small series of rooms for the captured prisoner. No, the ground was cold and covered in a white blanket of snow. There was no furniture; only the dead bodies scattered about staining the snow with pools of blood as they came crashing to the ground.
The window that provided the only sense of potential freedom was closer to the bottom and was barred. The imprisoned child would stare at that window numerous times upon first arriving into this hell hole. However, it was still too tall for the child to actually reach it; to look out and see the rest of the world. Not to mention, the idea of a fresher air instead of the smell of rotting flesh was enough to force the child to actually walk closer to the dead bodies piling around.
The smell was not as bad as it could have been due to the snow. But it was still terrible enough to nearly cause the child to be sick all over the place. Still, it had to be done to regain any sense of freedom. The body was hard to drag; it was heavy for such a small figure. His hands ached, for the child wasn't a girl but a boy, from constantly trying to climb up the wall in a desperate attempt for escape. In fact, they were still bleeding a bit as he had dug his fingers into the wall. But he had to get past that now if he wanted to create the steps to the window. Pausing every so often, the child finally got one body leaning against the wall just under it. His body was aching, his stomach cramping from the lack of food. But he still needed a few more.
And so, he kept at this process. He fell over himself a few times and he forced himself to stop in between bodies least he should fall into unconsciousness. When the last body was placed in the pile, the imprisoned child collapsed back into the snow. Breathing heavily, a light snow was beginning to cover him. He thought about laying there for a long time but the thought of the window now being in his grasp was too tempting. Forcing himself up, he dragged himself to the pile of the dead. Desperately climbing, having now gotten past the fact he was touching dead bodies, he reached the top of his pile before making a jump for the bars. His weak grip managed to hold on and with whatever strength he had left, he pulled himself up.
The view wasn't as nice as the picture described. There were no enchanted looking forests followed by a seemingly endless rolling of hills. There was only snow. It was not the majestic sort of snow, the kind of snow that can be oddly comforting at times. Beautiful even. This was a snow wasteland. And at the bottom was a giant wall surrounding the tower. He could also see his home, the kingdom in the distance. If he could even call it such after all the people had put him through.
And down on the bottom of the tower was another fair haired child stuck in eternal damnation.
Because it had always been two who were trapped in the godforsaken tower. It was never just one the King had sacrificed for the sake of the kingdom but two. One was on the bottom by the wall, the other forced to stay high in the tower. And, in reality, the one in the tower did not have to deal with the misfortune of dead bodies. It was the one locked away in the top of the tower that was given the barred window. And it was the one on the bottom who was forced to deal with the snow, with the constant dropping of dead bodies into the pit. But for Fai, it didn't matter which one had suffered which because in the end they were both still children locked in a tower. And for what? Because they were children of misfortune. Because they were children with magic beyond anyone in the kingdom. And they had been stripped away of this magic and forced to hide in a tower. From everyone. Two children.
"Fai?" Syaoran asked as the wizard with ice blue eyes appeared to be in a strange daze. Not missing a beat, Fai immediately looked towards his companions, smiling.
"Oh sorry, I was just thinking," Fai remarked playfully. He then took the book from Syaoran. "It really is a lovely story though. The girl with golden hair whose magic actually resides inside herself rather than her long hair. It's possible the girl might have absorbed the feather and its power came through her hair and tears."
"Makes as much sense to me as anything else," Kurogane replied. Though his tone didn't necessary suggest it, his gaze remained fixated and stern upon Fai.
"Well, it's a start," Syaoran remarked. "I think I'll take this though just in case." Fai handed Syaoran the book as he went to the register with Sakura. Kurogane stayed behind, still keeping his gaze on Fai. But Fai merely brushed it off like the many times he had already done and followed the group to the register.