You Set Me Free, You Give My Heart Wings
Part One: The Beginning
{A'sN: If you hate inane chatter, skip all this and start readin' where it says "Chapter One:"}
{A'sN: I started this fic on August 15th, so some of the beginning babbling's out-dated. Fanfiction.net's been out of commission for weeks, in case none of you noticed, and I've been away from the net for even longer! I thought I'd tell everyone about the time lag before I start.}
Hi-low out there! How are all my peeps and not so peeps? My boos doin' okay, too? Good!
Here I am yet again.
Everyone: AHHHH!!! HEAD FOR THE HILLS!!!
Ha, ha, ha. Aren't we the funny ones?
Everyone: Yes.
*SIGH* O-well, this is Raye Firearrows again, coming smack at ya from my com, from my house, from my room. Ain't I the clever one? *SIGH* I'll start this fic out with some ground rules and info. 'Kay?
First off, this fic is somewhat like a sequel to my fic Sakura in Paris 2, the fic with Shawn and Garlin in it, the one with all the funny chatting?
Well, I've been hankering to write a serious romance and magic fic, and I wanted to write a CCS one with Shawn in it, so Madison has a guy. So pity and humor me, and please read the fic. I'm trying my best on it. And I can almost swear that this fic'll be longer and better than Sakura in Paris and Sakura in Paris 2. Hopefully, the chapters will be longer, too. I hope.
Secondly, I hope everyone'll stick by me if it takes FOREVER for my chaps to get out, because I have limited access to the net. I can only download chaps if I'm done with 'em by the weekend and my dad wants to humor me and take me into work with him, for the only internet I can use is at my dad's office. *SIGH* I know I lead a pathetic, dismal life. But maybe if everyone's really nice to Pappy Dearest, I'll be able to get the fic out in record time!
Everyone: Yay!
Well, this fic is going to have plenty of Sakura + Li, Madison + Shawn romance and mush (or at least as much as I can squeeze into my pathetic attempts at writing), since I know how much y'all just love mush!
Everyone: YAY!!
If none of you out there know who Shawn is and are scratching your heads right now thinkin' "Who'n the hell's Shawn?", here's a tip. *Takes a deep breath* GO AND READ SAKURA IN PARIS 2, ONE OF THE BEST FICS I'VE EVER WRITTEN!!! Sorry 'bout that. But I promise that even if none of you like the story itself, the chatting's hilarious. I wrote it with some inspiration from my friends. And in case some people out there are wondering how the hell I came up with such kooky crap (i.e. Psycho's cousin the Blair Witch, Psycho's brother Chucky the Killer Doll, blowin' up Mac and Cheese trucks, being chased by werewolves on our way to the Mexican and U.S.A. state-line. . .), I'll let you in on my little secret. All of it's true!! Straight from the heads of Psycho and Max and Lizzie {E-Gods!} and out onto paper. Scary, ain't it?
This fic is gonna have magic and romance abounds, and maybe you'll all get lucky and Li'll propose to Sakura-
Everyone: YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But I'm not promising anything. Sakura and the gang (Li, Madison and Shawn) are in college, and are about twenty. Some new sorceresses and a new sorcerer will show their faces, and an all new baddie'll become clear as well! Garlin may or may not show his scaly, ugly mug (No offense, Gar), and the CCS Gang may or may not go to America. And one or two people may or may not
die. . .
O-well. Let's get on with the fic!
Everyone: YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ameoba Boy (muttering darkly): It's about time. . .
Author's Notes- {A'sN}
Italics- ~word~ {A'sN: I don't know how to get italics to show up . . .}
Bold face- WORD {. . . or bold face}
Quotes or speaking- "word"
Thinking and Thoughtspeech- word
{A'sN: I am not switching POV's around, it's just too confusing for my itty- bitty-chibi brain. So it's all gonna be in third-person. Sorry.}}
Enjoy! *(^.^)*
{Disclaimer}
And now, yet again (God help us), From the Head of Heather(Max)!
Bomb Squad: If you see me running, try to keep up.
Mom and Dad said I could be anything I wanted, so I became a jackass.
ESCAPEE. You haven't seen me.
I used to be a schizophrenic, but we're okay now.
And Daddy, they took my boot! {A'sN: from Tarzan}
And Raye don't ever own CCS. There. That about takes care of my improper English for the day.
Chapter One: The New Powers
A fire blazed up before her, blindingly bright. The girl shielded her eyes with a trembling hand as she took a stumbling step backwards.
Where was she? Besides the comforting familiarity of the blazing fire, she couldn't feel or see anything around her but cold, empty darkness.
A coldness surrounded her, clutching painfully at her heart.
"Wh-where am I?" Her voice sounded hollow and empty, even to her own ears, echoing out into the void of nothingness. She could not even see what sort of ground she stood on, it was so covered with darkness and shadows.
The girl looked down as she blinked back tears of fear, and gave a little start and gasp or surprise. She had never seen the white gossamer dress she now wore! Where was she?!?
"My dear child." A soft kindly voice whispered from the darkness as a form pulled free from the grasping shadows and walked closer to the shivering girl.
"Who are you? Where am I?" she whispered.
The man smiled gently. His silver-white hair shone almost unnaturally, drifting down to touch the invisible ground. His white beard was nearly as long, dangling slightly above his feet. He was dressed in stark mid-night blue robes, unadorned and undecorated. To the girl's eyes, he looked feeble and ancient, thin and wrinkled with pale white skin equaling his beard in color. But his eyes were a deep, unfathomable blue that twinkled, as deep and dark as the clearest, unclouded night sky or the deepest, darkest ocean. Those eyes held such a life in them, she was sure the man was both older and younger than he looked. He seemed to radiate strength and comfort. There was certainly nothing decrepit or weak about this man.
"My child," the man began with a chuckle that warmed the girl's cold heart. "I can certainly answer your first question. Most call me Father Time, but I believe Father Magic is a much more appropriate and proper name for myself."
"I . . . I don't understand," the girl stuttered out in confusion.
The man sighed softly. "Time and magic have always been, and always will be, intertwined with one another. In a sense, they are somewhat the same thing. Time and magic both are never-ending, always repeating. What has lived, will be lived again. What will be has already been. And what has been given will never be taken."
"I'm sorry," the girl whispered contritely. She never spoke higher than a whisper, even when not pressed with such strange circumstances. "I still don't understand. . ."
The man smiled knowingly. "You will fully understand with time, my child, as hard as that may be for you to hear. You have a great gift, one given to you in lifetimes past. A time is coming for you to use your gift, so I have brought you here, to the Sacrem, while you sleep, in order to reawaken that gift. Look into the fire, child. Look deeply within it. Tell me, what do you see?"
The girl squinted against the intense light of the fire, her eyes watering painfully. For some reason unknown to her, she felt as if she had to oblige this strange fellow.
"I see. . . A silver moon. . ." she whispered out.
The man smiled widely, looking immensely pleased. "That is it, child! That is your gift!"
The girl was struggling to comprehend the meaning of this, but a sudden warmth welled up inside of her, friendly and comforting.
"I can tell by your expression that you are feeling your gift for the first time, child," the man said sagely, still smiling in a pleased way. "You will be much stronger than I thought. You will have good teachers."
"But what is my gift?" the girl asked, bewildered. The man smiled knowingly.
"You will know when the time is right. The others shall be arriving soon to help you master it. Now, you must hurry and return to your body. Souls can only reside in the Sacrem of Diadem for so long. It shall be morning soon. Oh, I am loathe to leave you now, small child, but I must go and hurry! I've not much time before sunrise, and it all must be finished ever so soon!"
With a blinding flash of light, the friendly man disappeared, leaving the girl to return to the familiar blackness of sleep, to dream of her new magic.
Patience woke with a start, staring around her comforting room. Was it all just a dream? A strange dream, but a dream none-the-less? But it couldn't have been! It had been so strange and profound; it couldn't have been a mere dream.
Patience sat in her bed, leaning her back against the plush blue and silver pillows. It was an hour or so before sunrise; her room was still bathed with peaceful moonlight. The moonlight further enhanced the colors of her room, which pleased Patience's artistic taste to no end.
Unlike her sister Hope, Patience loved the cool, dark colors of the night. Her strange, crescent-shaped room was decorated with pale silver paint coating the walls, and the mid-night blue window drapes pooled elegantly on the blue wood of the floor. Patience only had one window in her somewhat cramped room, but she liked the one window better than the windows that filled Hope's room. Her window was tall and narrow with elegant drapes, but Hope's far wall was crammed with short, squat, bare windows that faced the east, in order to catch every drop of sunlight. Patience's bed was just perfect for her size, and painted a shining silver over the already bright metal of the bed stand. Her bedcovers were dark blues and velvet purples. Her ceiling was painted purply-black, dotted with stars and a giant crescent moon. Neither Patience nor her sister Hope had closets; it was impractical in such small rooms. Instead, they had large wardrobes and dressers that held their clothes. Patience's room was further crowded with an immense bookshelf, crammed so full of books she couldn't fit another if she tried. Her cluttered writing desk was littered with papers and crunched up balls of failures. Her pens and pencils rolled about from the slight breeze blowing in through the open window. The drapes fluttered and waved in the wind.
Patience thought her room was perfect, and could almost always find a muse within it while she was writing her stories. Her room was so artistic and fanciful, which suited the young author perfectly.
She yawned and stretched. Some people probably though it strange that she still lived with her parents, her twenty-first birthday having just come and gone. But the college she attended was so close to her parent's house, the house was already large enough to pass off for a mansion and no one but she and her sister ever wished to take the tiring trek up the spiral staircase that led to their tower rooms. They had enough privacy, and she was running short on cash anyway. She severely doubted she would have been able to pay rent if she was living on her own. She had just been fired from her last job that night before, and she had yet to tell her parents.
Patience sighed at this unpleasant task. She would certainly have to tell her parents this morning, but it would so put a damper on her day. Could Patience really help it if she was so shy she'd rather die than walk to the cashier's counter and tell people, "Welcome to McDonalds, can I take your order?" She had been born shy and uncommunicative, and by God above, she was going to die shy and uncommunicative.
In that one small aspect she envied her sister. Hope was so bubbly and talkative; she had no problem with dealing with people. In fact, Hope was hopelessly blunt and direct when it came to people. But since she was also so friendly and happy, people always forgave her that one small fault. Hope was captain of her Debate Team at the Artistic Guild, and Patience could always feel the green-eyed monster of jealousy eating her alive when Hope returned from Debates bubbling with news of the friends she had just made.
Patience firmly pushed those thoughts away and crawled out of her luxuriously comfortable bed. Patience's mother Jade was always so extravagant in everything she bought for her family. "Only the best for the ones I love!" she'd announce cheerfully after returning home from a shopping spree with every credit card she owned maxed out to its fullest. But then, Jade always had more money than she could ever spend, locked safely away in the bank. Jade was a best-selling author of fantasy- romances, and if the family ever ran low of money, she could always sit down and create yet another masterpiece.
And then Patience's father, Josuah, was an architect, and always brought home big bucks as well. That was probably why they could afford such a large, splendid house out on the fringe of the woods in Colorado. In fact, this very house had been created by Patience's parents. Jade had used her creative ability to create the dreamy aspects of the mansion-like house, and Josuah had drawn up the blueprints and had started construction with one of his best buddies, who just happened to own the construction business that built the houses Josuah designed.
All in all, it seemed as though Patience had the perfect life. Both she and Hope attended a private college, the type where you had to have the big bucks to get in. Hope had never been shunned and outcasted as the rich girl, her bubbly personality working to her advantage. The entire college loved Hope, but alternately hated Patience. She was always so quiet and unobtrusive, so excluded from everything. Everyone thought she felt too snobbish to make friends with anyone. If only they knew that that was how Patience was. You had to struggle to break down her barriers, and even then she could still pull back into her shell.
Patience quickly dressed, pulling on a dark blue skirt and long- sleeved white blouse. Like her room, Patience's wardrobe was filled with whites, silvers, blues, purples and blacks. Patience dressed as solemn and sedate as she felt. She hastily brushed through her waist-long black hair, sighing deeply. Everyone said she was beautiful, but she didn't think so. Her black hair was so straight no perm would ever hold, and it always managed to escape from every style she'd struggle to put it into. So every day she wore her hair the same; straight with two small braids down either side of her face. She straightened her tangled bangs, and peered into the mirror hanging above her purple-painted dresser. Solemn green eyes, cool and shy, peered back at her. She sighed again. She was so plain, with her cold green eyes, straight, boring black hair and pure-white skin. She sometimes wished she could tan like Hope, but then thought against it. Tanning gave you sun-poisoning, anyway.
She slipped on her black boots and pulled up her knee-high black socks. Scooping up her blue jacket that matched her skirt, Patience straightened her bed covers and opened the only door to her room.
Her room was crescent shaped, as was Hope's, for coming in straight through the floor of the tower was an immense bronze spiral staircase. Patience shut her blue door, straightened the small plaque hanging from it with her name emblazoned across it in black letters, and started down the staircase, sighing. Patience liked to sigh quite often, thinking it one of the few things she was good at.
Hope was clearly still asleep, judging from the snores blasting from the brightly painted room. Her yellow door was trembling slightly, her gold and green plaque shaking every few seconds. Patience hid a smile and continued down the stairs.
Hope woke with a crash. Literally. She had tumbled from her bed, pulling her ample covers along with her into her head-long dive for the gold-painted wooden floor. She groaned and sat, rubbing at her curly head. She was going to have a monster of a bump in a few hours.
Hope stretched and yawned until her jaw hurt, then stood and scratched at an annoying tickle on her back. The sun was up and shining merrily, blazing in blindingly through the many windows that coated the wall opposite Hope's green-painted door. She had so many windows lining her wall that there was no space between each one, and she only had one large curtain that she could pull on rollers across the entire wall. The curtain was a deep forest green, and so thick not even a trickle of sunlight could fight through the folds of material after Hope had pulled the curtain across.
Falling backwards, Hope lay on her bed, staring up at her ceiling. She could never tire of staring up at the ceiling. Her father, who had quite an artistic streak in his blood, had painted it for her. It was a pale blue, with fluffy cotton clouds you could almost touch and a shining sun hanging in the far east corner. Birds flew across the sky, giving the nineteen-year-old the inexhaustible feeling she herself was flying.
A small bell, like the ones that lined the school halls, above her door rang loudly, starting Hope out of her daydreams. "Yes?"
"Breakfast is ready, Mop." Hope could barely hear her older sister's whisper through the door, but clearly heard the nickname.
"Be down in a sec, Silent One!" Hope called cheerfully.
Patience winced at the rather loud call, then hurried down the staircase. Hope would take much more then a sec if she knew her sister at all. She'd probably start daydreaming and get off track halfway through dressing.
Hope piled her gold and green covers onto her bed, plumping the giant yellow pillows atop the messy mound. Hope never had time to properly make her bed, leaving the mess for her mother to clean on her daily rounds of the house.
Inwardly, as Hope scrambled beneath her bed in search of her wily, elusive shoes, she was glad it was summer break. She always had such trouble with getting to school in time, and Patience was always gone by now for her early morning study sessions. Hope thought her quiet, shy older sister was crazy to wake every day before dawn, even in the summer, for she loved to sleep as late as she could manage.
In a bright contrast to Patience's calm room, Hope's room was coated with bright yellows, golds, greens, oranges and pale blues. Her walls and covers were yellows and golds, her ceiling blue, her curtain and sheets green, her floor a burnished orange-like gold. Her wardrobe was green in color, her dresser orange, her immense, sagging bed a gold-orange. The inside half of her door was green, the outside half gold. She also had a bookshelf like her sister, but not one fantasy book graced the rather dusty shelves. Instead, Hope's artistic creations filled the shelves. Beads and clay rolled from the bookshelf as Hope hopped about in a vain attempt to shove her feet into her black boots. Another small bookshelf squatted squarely beside the taller shelf, filled with her nature finds from when she had ventured out to explore in the woods. Pinecones, nests, arrowheads, eggshells, snake skins, bird feathers, and a squirrel and raccoon tail hung limply over the shelf.
Hope finally finished dressing. She wore a dark green pair of shorts and a spaghetti-strapped gold top. Her wardrobe was filled with the bright colors she liked, and not a one shirt was dark or depressing. She hurriedly buckled on a belt and stuffed her short white socks into the depths of her boots, the way she liked them. She then grabbed a brush and began her daily wrestling match with her unruly auburn curls. By the end of each match, her hair had always won and would be a giant fuzz-ball of frizzes, which further enhanced her nick-name of Mop. Her ice-blue eyes twinkled merrily as she tossed the broken brush away carelessly, gave up her hair as a lost cause, and settled with ferociously driving a handful of spike-like pins into the curls in an attempt to somewhat tame them.
Finished with her appearance, Hope scooped up her half-filled sketchbook and bag full of pencils and erasers and burst raucously from her room. Without a thought for her safety, Hope dove towards the staircase, promptly beginning her daily breathtaking slide down the winding banister.
"WAHOOOOOOOO!!!!" Hope cried as her hair was whipped about, hair-pins flying in her wake. With a whoosh, the nineteen-year-old shot off the end of the banister, skidding across the redwood floor, leaving twin black streaks from her boots in her wake unnoticed.
Patience sighed into her porridge as Hope skidded into the room, hair once more wild, eyes flashing with excitement and tanned cheeks flushed.
"Hello all!!!" Hope said in her carefree way as she shot over to her seat between Patience and Josuah in the rounded table. "It's gonna be a beaut of a day!!"
Jade hid a smile behind her spatula. "Aren't we in a good mood today?"
Hope nodded eagerly as she helped herself to a pile of pancakes from Josuah's plate, right under the furiously-drawing architect's nose. "I'm gonna go out and sketch in the woods. Patience, you wanna come with?"
Patience sniffed into her porridge as Hope stuffed an appallingly large amount of syrupy pancakes into her mouth. "I think not. I'm going to the Library today. Pappy's going to drive me over."
"But it's only a couple miles away!" Hope complained through a mouthful of pancakes.
"Hope, chew with your mouth closed," Josuah ordered absently as he tried to eat his fork instead of his sausage.
Jade quickly took the fork from Josuah and spun it about. "Honey, please put up your plans and eat correctly."
"Can't," Josuah mumbled.
"I'm not as athletic as you, Mop." Patience murmured as she opened her new Mercedes Lackey book.
Hope hurriedly ate the rest of her pancakes, then waited impatiently for Jade to stack more on her clean plate. "I had the strangest dream last night."
Patience's head snapped up from a romance scene between Darkwind and Elspeth. "What kind of dream?"
Hope's brow furrowed for a moment while she chewed reflectively at her pancakes. Hope had a horrible memory for events, but a photographic memory for people and wildlife scapes. "There was this old geezer in it that said his name was Father Time. . . And I don't remember much more. Except that I looked into a fire and saw a sun floating in it. Strange, isn't it?" The girl then returned to her meal, completely forgetting the dream.
Patience's mind was working unusually fast. Both she and Hope had had the same dream? What did it mean?
"Honey, you're chewing on your coffee mug," Jade said gently to the preoccupied Josuah.
Sage rubbed at his burning eyes, stretching widely with a yawn. What a strange dream. But that man, Father Time, had been very friendly. In fact, that was one of the first time anyone had been friendly towards Sage, in dreams or no. Everyone had always looked at Sage with distrust, for hitch-hikers were never up to any good.
Sage stood with a weary yawn, dusting the sand from his jeans as he began his daily trek alongside the highway. Running a hand through his unruly black hair, Sage allowed himself a sigh of longing and regret.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if magic were real? Even better, if Sage had magic himself? But the young man pushed the thoughts away ruthlessly and reshouldered his faded gray backpack.
He had no time to waste on such childish fantasies.
Well? You like it? If anyone's wondering where Sakura and the others are, don't worry. They'll be in the next chapter for sure. This chapter is sort of the prelude, just to introduce Patience and Hope and Sage. Don't forget about them, cause they're especially important for this fic!
More coming up! Love and Bubbles, y'all!
{A'sN: If you hate inane chatter, skip all this and start readin' where it says "Chapter One:"}
{A'sN: I started this fic on August 15th, so some of the beginning babbling's out-dated. Fanfiction.net's been out of commission for weeks, in case none of you noticed, and I've been away from the net for even longer! I thought I'd tell everyone about the time lag before I start.}
Hi-low out there! How are all my peeps and not so peeps? My boos doin' okay, too? Good!
Here I am yet again.
Everyone: AHHHH!!! HEAD FOR THE HILLS!!!
Ha, ha, ha. Aren't we the funny ones?
Everyone: Yes.
*SIGH* O-well, this is Raye Firearrows again, coming smack at ya from my com, from my house, from my room. Ain't I the clever one? *SIGH* I'll start this fic out with some ground rules and info. 'Kay?
First off, this fic is somewhat like a sequel to my fic Sakura in Paris 2, the fic with Shawn and Garlin in it, the one with all the funny chatting?
Well, I've been hankering to write a serious romance and magic fic, and I wanted to write a CCS one with Shawn in it, so Madison has a guy. So pity and humor me, and please read the fic. I'm trying my best on it. And I can almost swear that this fic'll be longer and better than Sakura in Paris and Sakura in Paris 2. Hopefully, the chapters will be longer, too. I hope.
Secondly, I hope everyone'll stick by me if it takes FOREVER for my chaps to get out, because I have limited access to the net. I can only download chaps if I'm done with 'em by the weekend and my dad wants to humor me and take me into work with him, for the only internet I can use is at my dad's office. *SIGH* I know I lead a pathetic, dismal life. But maybe if everyone's really nice to Pappy Dearest, I'll be able to get the fic out in record time!
Everyone: Yay!
Well, this fic is going to have plenty of Sakura + Li, Madison + Shawn romance and mush (or at least as much as I can squeeze into my pathetic attempts at writing), since I know how much y'all just love mush!
Everyone: YAY!!
If none of you out there know who Shawn is and are scratching your heads right now thinkin' "Who'n the hell's Shawn?", here's a tip. *Takes a deep breath* GO AND READ SAKURA IN PARIS 2, ONE OF THE BEST FICS I'VE EVER WRITTEN!!! Sorry 'bout that. But I promise that even if none of you like the story itself, the chatting's hilarious. I wrote it with some inspiration from my friends. And in case some people out there are wondering how the hell I came up with such kooky crap (i.e. Psycho's cousin the Blair Witch, Psycho's brother Chucky the Killer Doll, blowin' up Mac and Cheese trucks, being chased by werewolves on our way to the Mexican and U.S.A. state-line. . .), I'll let you in on my little secret. All of it's true!! Straight from the heads of Psycho and Max and Lizzie {E-Gods!} and out onto paper. Scary, ain't it?
This fic is gonna have magic and romance abounds, and maybe you'll all get lucky and Li'll propose to Sakura-
Everyone: YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But I'm not promising anything. Sakura and the gang (Li, Madison and Shawn) are in college, and are about twenty. Some new sorceresses and a new sorcerer will show their faces, and an all new baddie'll become clear as well! Garlin may or may not show his scaly, ugly mug (No offense, Gar), and the CCS Gang may or may not go to America. And one or two people may or may not
die. . .
O-well. Let's get on with the fic!
Everyone: YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ameoba Boy (muttering darkly): It's about time. . .
Author's Notes- {A'sN}
Italics- ~word~ {A'sN: I don't know how to get italics to show up . . .}
Bold face- WORD {. . . or bold face}
Quotes or speaking- "word"
Thinking and Thoughtspeech- word
{A'sN: I am not switching POV's around, it's just too confusing for my itty- bitty-chibi brain. So it's all gonna be in third-person. Sorry.}}
Enjoy! *(^.^)*
{Disclaimer}
And now, yet again (God help us), From the Head of Heather(Max)!
Bomb Squad: If you see me running, try to keep up.
Mom and Dad said I could be anything I wanted, so I became a jackass.
ESCAPEE. You haven't seen me.
I used to be a schizophrenic, but we're okay now.
And Daddy, they took my boot! {A'sN: from Tarzan}
And Raye don't ever own CCS. There. That about takes care of my improper English for the day.
Chapter One: The New Powers
A fire blazed up before her, blindingly bright. The girl shielded her eyes with a trembling hand as she took a stumbling step backwards.
Where was she? Besides the comforting familiarity of the blazing fire, she couldn't feel or see anything around her but cold, empty darkness.
A coldness surrounded her, clutching painfully at her heart.
"Wh-where am I?" Her voice sounded hollow and empty, even to her own ears, echoing out into the void of nothingness. She could not even see what sort of ground she stood on, it was so covered with darkness and shadows.
The girl looked down as she blinked back tears of fear, and gave a little start and gasp or surprise. She had never seen the white gossamer dress she now wore! Where was she?!?
"My dear child." A soft kindly voice whispered from the darkness as a form pulled free from the grasping shadows and walked closer to the shivering girl.
"Who are you? Where am I?" she whispered.
The man smiled gently. His silver-white hair shone almost unnaturally, drifting down to touch the invisible ground. His white beard was nearly as long, dangling slightly above his feet. He was dressed in stark mid-night blue robes, unadorned and undecorated. To the girl's eyes, he looked feeble and ancient, thin and wrinkled with pale white skin equaling his beard in color. But his eyes were a deep, unfathomable blue that twinkled, as deep and dark as the clearest, unclouded night sky or the deepest, darkest ocean. Those eyes held such a life in them, she was sure the man was both older and younger than he looked. He seemed to radiate strength and comfort. There was certainly nothing decrepit or weak about this man.
"My child," the man began with a chuckle that warmed the girl's cold heart. "I can certainly answer your first question. Most call me Father Time, but I believe Father Magic is a much more appropriate and proper name for myself."
"I . . . I don't understand," the girl stuttered out in confusion.
The man sighed softly. "Time and magic have always been, and always will be, intertwined with one another. In a sense, they are somewhat the same thing. Time and magic both are never-ending, always repeating. What has lived, will be lived again. What will be has already been. And what has been given will never be taken."
"I'm sorry," the girl whispered contritely. She never spoke higher than a whisper, even when not pressed with such strange circumstances. "I still don't understand. . ."
The man smiled knowingly. "You will fully understand with time, my child, as hard as that may be for you to hear. You have a great gift, one given to you in lifetimes past. A time is coming for you to use your gift, so I have brought you here, to the Sacrem, while you sleep, in order to reawaken that gift. Look into the fire, child. Look deeply within it. Tell me, what do you see?"
The girl squinted against the intense light of the fire, her eyes watering painfully. For some reason unknown to her, she felt as if she had to oblige this strange fellow.
"I see. . . A silver moon. . ." she whispered out.
The man smiled widely, looking immensely pleased. "That is it, child! That is your gift!"
The girl was struggling to comprehend the meaning of this, but a sudden warmth welled up inside of her, friendly and comforting.
"I can tell by your expression that you are feeling your gift for the first time, child," the man said sagely, still smiling in a pleased way. "You will be much stronger than I thought. You will have good teachers."
"But what is my gift?" the girl asked, bewildered. The man smiled knowingly.
"You will know when the time is right. The others shall be arriving soon to help you master it. Now, you must hurry and return to your body. Souls can only reside in the Sacrem of Diadem for so long. It shall be morning soon. Oh, I am loathe to leave you now, small child, but I must go and hurry! I've not much time before sunrise, and it all must be finished ever so soon!"
With a blinding flash of light, the friendly man disappeared, leaving the girl to return to the familiar blackness of sleep, to dream of her new magic.
Patience woke with a start, staring around her comforting room. Was it all just a dream? A strange dream, but a dream none-the-less? But it couldn't have been! It had been so strange and profound; it couldn't have been a mere dream.
Patience sat in her bed, leaning her back against the plush blue and silver pillows. It was an hour or so before sunrise; her room was still bathed with peaceful moonlight. The moonlight further enhanced the colors of her room, which pleased Patience's artistic taste to no end.
Unlike her sister Hope, Patience loved the cool, dark colors of the night. Her strange, crescent-shaped room was decorated with pale silver paint coating the walls, and the mid-night blue window drapes pooled elegantly on the blue wood of the floor. Patience only had one window in her somewhat cramped room, but she liked the one window better than the windows that filled Hope's room. Her window was tall and narrow with elegant drapes, but Hope's far wall was crammed with short, squat, bare windows that faced the east, in order to catch every drop of sunlight. Patience's bed was just perfect for her size, and painted a shining silver over the already bright metal of the bed stand. Her bedcovers were dark blues and velvet purples. Her ceiling was painted purply-black, dotted with stars and a giant crescent moon. Neither Patience nor her sister Hope had closets; it was impractical in such small rooms. Instead, they had large wardrobes and dressers that held their clothes. Patience's room was further crowded with an immense bookshelf, crammed so full of books she couldn't fit another if she tried. Her cluttered writing desk was littered with papers and crunched up balls of failures. Her pens and pencils rolled about from the slight breeze blowing in through the open window. The drapes fluttered and waved in the wind.
Patience thought her room was perfect, and could almost always find a muse within it while she was writing her stories. Her room was so artistic and fanciful, which suited the young author perfectly.
She yawned and stretched. Some people probably though it strange that she still lived with her parents, her twenty-first birthday having just come and gone. But the college she attended was so close to her parent's house, the house was already large enough to pass off for a mansion and no one but she and her sister ever wished to take the tiring trek up the spiral staircase that led to their tower rooms. They had enough privacy, and she was running short on cash anyway. She severely doubted she would have been able to pay rent if she was living on her own. She had just been fired from her last job that night before, and she had yet to tell her parents.
Patience sighed at this unpleasant task. She would certainly have to tell her parents this morning, but it would so put a damper on her day. Could Patience really help it if she was so shy she'd rather die than walk to the cashier's counter and tell people, "Welcome to McDonalds, can I take your order?" She had been born shy and uncommunicative, and by God above, she was going to die shy and uncommunicative.
In that one small aspect she envied her sister. Hope was so bubbly and talkative; she had no problem with dealing with people. In fact, Hope was hopelessly blunt and direct when it came to people. But since she was also so friendly and happy, people always forgave her that one small fault. Hope was captain of her Debate Team at the Artistic Guild, and Patience could always feel the green-eyed monster of jealousy eating her alive when Hope returned from Debates bubbling with news of the friends she had just made.
Patience firmly pushed those thoughts away and crawled out of her luxuriously comfortable bed. Patience's mother Jade was always so extravagant in everything she bought for her family. "Only the best for the ones I love!" she'd announce cheerfully after returning home from a shopping spree with every credit card she owned maxed out to its fullest. But then, Jade always had more money than she could ever spend, locked safely away in the bank. Jade was a best-selling author of fantasy- romances, and if the family ever ran low of money, she could always sit down and create yet another masterpiece.
And then Patience's father, Josuah, was an architect, and always brought home big bucks as well. That was probably why they could afford such a large, splendid house out on the fringe of the woods in Colorado. In fact, this very house had been created by Patience's parents. Jade had used her creative ability to create the dreamy aspects of the mansion-like house, and Josuah had drawn up the blueprints and had started construction with one of his best buddies, who just happened to own the construction business that built the houses Josuah designed.
All in all, it seemed as though Patience had the perfect life. Both she and Hope attended a private college, the type where you had to have the big bucks to get in. Hope had never been shunned and outcasted as the rich girl, her bubbly personality working to her advantage. The entire college loved Hope, but alternately hated Patience. She was always so quiet and unobtrusive, so excluded from everything. Everyone thought she felt too snobbish to make friends with anyone. If only they knew that that was how Patience was. You had to struggle to break down her barriers, and even then she could still pull back into her shell.
Patience quickly dressed, pulling on a dark blue skirt and long- sleeved white blouse. Like her room, Patience's wardrobe was filled with whites, silvers, blues, purples and blacks. Patience dressed as solemn and sedate as she felt. She hastily brushed through her waist-long black hair, sighing deeply. Everyone said she was beautiful, but she didn't think so. Her black hair was so straight no perm would ever hold, and it always managed to escape from every style she'd struggle to put it into. So every day she wore her hair the same; straight with two small braids down either side of her face. She straightened her tangled bangs, and peered into the mirror hanging above her purple-painted dresser. Solemn green eyes, cool and shy, peered back at her. She sighed again. She was so plain, with her cold green eyes, straight, boring black hair and pure-white skin. She sometimes wished she could tan like Hope, but then thought against it. Tanning gave you sun-poisoning, anyway.
She slipped on her black boots and pulled up her knee-high black socks. Scooping up her blue jacket that matched her skirt, Patience straightened her bed covers and opened the only door to her room.
Her room was crescent shaped, as was Hope's, for coming in straight through the floor of the tower was an immense bronze spiral staircase. Patience shut her blue door, straightened the small plaque hanging from it with her name emblazoned across it in black letters, and started down the staircase, sighing. Patience liked to sigh quite often, thinking it one of the few things she was good at.
Hope was clearly still asleep, judging from the snores blasting from the brightly painted room. Her yellow door was trembling slightly, her gold and green plaque shaking every few seconds. Patience hid a smile and continued down the stairs.
Hope woke with a crash. Literally. She had tumbled from her bed, pulling her ample covers along with her into her head-long dive for the gold-painted wooden floor. She groaned and sat, rubbing at her curly head. She was going to have a monster of a bump in a few hours.
Hope stretched and yawned until her jaw hurt, then stood and scratched at an annoying tickle on her back. The sun was up and shining merrily, blazing in blindingly through the many windows that coated the wall opposite Hope's green-painted door. She had so many windows lining her wall that there was no space between each one, and she only had one large curtain that she could pull on rollers across the entire wall. The curtain was a deep forest green, and so thick not even a trickle of sunlight could fight through the folds of material after Hope had pulled the curtain across.
Falling backwards, Hope lay on her bed, staring up at her ceiling. She could never tire of staring up at the ceiling. Her father, who had quite an artistic streak in his blood, had painted it for her. It was a pale blue, with fluffy cotton clouds you could almost touch and a shining sun hanging in the far east corner. Birds flew across the sky, giving the nineteen-year-old the inexhaustible feeling she herself was flying.
A small bell, like the ones that lined the school halls, above her door rang loudly, starting Hope out of her daydreams. "Yes?"
"Breakfast is ready, Mop." Hope could barely hear her older sister's whisper through the door, but clearly heard the nickname.
"Be down in a sec, Silent One!" Hope called cheerfully.
Patience winced at the rather loud call, then hurried down the staircase. Hope would take much more then a sec if she knew her sister at all. She'd probably start daydreaming and get off track halfway through dressing.
Hope piled her gold and green covers onto her bed, plumping the giant yellow pillows atop the messy mound. Hope never had time to properly make her bed, leaving the mess for her mother to clean on her daily rounds of the house.
Inwardly, as Hope scrambled beneath her bed in search of her wily, elusive shoes, she was glad it was summer break. She always had such trouble with getting to school in time, and Patience was always gone by now for her early morning study sessions. Hope thought her quiet, shy older sister was crazy to wake every day before dawn, even in the summer, for she loved to sleep as late as she could manage.
In a bright contrast to Patience's calm room, Hope's room was coated with bright yellows, golds, greens, oranges and pale blues. Her walls and covers were yellows and golds, her ceiling blue, her curtain and sheets green, her floor a burnished orange-like gold. Her wardrobe was green in color, her dresser orange, her immense, sagging bed a gold-orange. The inside half of her door was green, the outside half gold. She also had a bookshelf like her sister, but not one fantasy book graced the rather dusty shelves. Instead, Hope's artistic creations filled the shelves. Beads and clay rolled from the bookshelf as Hope hopped about in a vain attempt to shove her feet into her black boots. Another small bookshelf squatted squarely beside the taller shelf, filled with her nature finds from when she had ventured out to explore in the woods. Pinecones, nests, arrowheads, eggshells, snake skins, bird feathers, and a squirrel and raccoon tail hung limply over the shelf.
Hope finally finished dressing. She wore a dark green pair of shorts and a spaghetti-strapped gold top. Her wardrobe was filled with the bright colors she liked, and not a one shirt was dark or depressing. She hurriedly buckled on a belt and stuffed her short white socks into the depths of her boots, the way she liked them. She then grabbed a brush and began her daily wrestling match with her unruly auburn curls. By the end of each match, her hair had always won and would be a giant fuzz-ball of frizzes, which further enhanced her nick-name of Mop. Her ice-blue eyes twinkled merrily as she tossed the broken brush away carelessly, gave up her hair as a lost cause, and settled with ferociously driving a handful of spike-like pins into the curls in an attempt to somewhat tame them.
Finished with her appearance, Hope scooped up her half-filled sketchbook and bag full of pencils and erasers and burst raucously from her room. Without a thought for her safety, Hope dove towards the staircase, promptly beginning her daily breathtaking slide down the winding banister.
"WAHOOOOOOOO!!!!" Hope cried as her hair was whipped about, hair-pins flying in her wake. With a whoosh, the nineteen-year-old shot off the end of the banister, skidding across the redwood floor, leaving twin black streaks from her boots in her wake unnoticed.
Patience sighed into her porridge as Hope skidded into the room, hair once more wild, eyes flashing with excitement and tanned cheeks flushed.
"Hello all!!!" Hope said in her carefree way as she shot over to her seat between Patience and Josuah in the rounded table. "It's gonna be a beaut of a day!!"
Jade hid a smile behind her spatula. "Aren't we in a good mood today?"
Hope nodded eagerly as she helped herself to a pile of pancakes from Josuah's plate, right under the furiously-drawing architect's nose. "I'm gonna go out and sketch in the woods. Patience, you wanna come with?"
Patience sniffed into her porridge as Hope stuffed an appallingly large amount of syrupy pancakes into her mouth. "I think not. I'm going to the Library today. Pappy's going to drive me over."
"But it's only a couple miles away!" Hope complained through a mouthful of pancakes.
"Hope, chew with your mouth closed," Josuah ordered absently as he tried to eat his fork instead of his sausage.
Jade quickly took the fork from Josuah and spun it about. "Honey, please put up your plans and eat correctly."
"Can't," Josuah mumbled.
"I'm not as athletic as you, Mop." Patience murmured as she opened her new Mercedes Lackey book.
Hope hurriedly ate the rest of her pancakes, then waited impatiently for Jade to stack more on her clean plate. "I had the strangest dream last night."
Patience's head snapped up from a romance scene between Darkwind and Elspeth. "What kind of dream?"
Hope's brow furrowed for a moment while she chewed reflectively at her pancakes. Hope had a horrible memory for events, but a photographic memory for people and wildlife scapes. "There was this old geezer in it that said his name was Father Time. . . And I don't remember much more. Except that I looked into a fire and saw a sun floating in it. Strange, isn't it?" The girl then returned to her meal, completely forgetting the dream.
Patience's mind was working unusually fast. Both she and Hope had had the same dream? What did it mean?
"Honey, you're chewing on your coffee mug," Jade said gently to the preoccupied Josuah.
Sage rubbed at his burning eyes, stretching widely with a yawn. What a strange dream. But that man, Father Time, had been very friendly. In fact, that was one of the first time anyone had been friendly towards Sage, in dreams or no. Everyone had always looked at Sage with distrust, for hitch-hikers were never up to any good.
Sage stood with a weary yawn, dusting the sand from his jeans as he began his daily trek alongside the highway. Running a hand through his unruly black hair, Sage allowed himself a sigh of longing and regret.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if magic were real? Even better, if Sage had magic himself? But the young man pushed the thoughts away ruthlessly and reshouldered his faded gray backpack.
He had no time to waste on such childish fantasies.
Well? You like it? If anyone's wondering where Sakura and the others are, don't worry. They'll be in the next chapter for sure. This chapter is sort of the prelude, just to introduce Patience and Hope and Sage. Don't forget about them, cause they're especially important for this fic!
More coming up! Love and Bubbles, y'all!
