Disclaimer: I do not own CCS characters
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A taste of bitterness on my lips
A taste of deceit every two sips
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The pain was unimaginable.
Nothing could suppress the violent shock surging through Syaoran's veins; sensitizing each nerve muscle to a point his ten-year-old frame couldn't handle it anymore. His clothes were tattered and stained with dried, prickly blood. His hands were wringing at their sides, blindly searching for a pillar – a support – anything to rid the insufferable ache attacking every one of his limbs.
A gasp escaped him when another painful throb seared through his capillaries. What black magic was this? Syaoran minimized his movements.
He was incapable of even verbalizing the excruciating pain echoing from within his hollow bones let alone breathed through cracked, bruised lips without having the need to flinch. He settled on gaping helplessly at his slain family and comrades, their skin terribly blanched and body lifeless.
Just watching them curled his mind closer to the lip of insanity where it'd be best if he did actually lose his mind.
'Help.'
A silent tear rolled down from the corner of his left eye.
Who could have done this?
His mother laid in her own bloodbath, eyes wide and glazed over. A frozen countenance of fear and dread, it was a shocking sight. His sisters… oh gods… beaten to death, unable to defend themselves – Syaoran could unremittingly hear their aggravated screams ringing in his ears.
He shuddered faintly, trying to fight his emotional battle. Whoever did this must've been part of a greater power.Even the elite soldiers who tried to protect the Lis back there couldn't retain the evil forces long enough to subdue them, also dying a gruesome death in their own pool of blood. The protective barrier his mother threw up at the last moment quickly crumbled when the intruders swooped in.
Syaoran's eyes roamed around, the tears pooling once more.
Many bodies were scattered all over throughout the manor, blood mixed with dirt and grime everywhere, furnitures snapped in half and floorboards ripped apart. His whole house was basically destroyed on impact. It seemed no one was spared…
Where was the help when he needed it most?
Syaoran let in a strangled breath, his mouth quivering. He didn't want to breathe in the musky scent of burnt corpses and decomposition. He'd rather suffocate and die than breathe in this pungent odor. Damn it… Why was he still here? Why was he spared?!
Damn it!
He could still breathe; he could still feel the life in him.
Wasn't he destined to die along with his comrades? If that was the case then the dying process took longer than he'd imagined. But the minutes were painstakingly slow, and his heart continued to beat full force within his chest – fighting for a life he didn't want to live anymore.
Pretty pointless now that everyone was already gone.
'Let me die.'
"Don't die, Syaoran."
Syaoran's pupils dilated and reallocated, recognizing his cousin Eriol knelt beside him.
"E-Eriol-kun." His body began to rack with tears. Though the pain was immense and unbearable, he couldn't keep his tears at bay. The azure eyes of his cousin glinted in the darkness of the room. His arms encircled Syaoran, holding him upright to observe the wounds.
Syaoran winced at the sudden readjustment but did not complain. He looked at Eriol in hysteria, the emotions too raw to remain passive.
"Eriol-kun!" he sobbed. "Who did this? Who k-killed them all?"
"Shh, I sense their aura. They will come back," he told the younger boy. "We have to relocate, and fast, or else they'll find you. Here," he slipped his hand into Syaoran's shirt, ignoring the squirming of his cousin, "I will give you some of my strength. Listen Syaoran, you must keep your identity a secret and head straight for Tomoeda."
Syaoran grimaced. "Tomoeda?"
"Yes, Tomoeda. It's safer there. No one will suspect anything if you randomly show up. There, you must work as a servant. It's the only way of survival." Eriol propped Syaoran up more, his palms pressed to Syaoran's stomach, transferring energy into his frail body. "You will listen to me, won't you Syaoran?"
What?
When Syaoran gravely needed to be comforted, his cousin was bent on telling him all this overwhelming information, worsening his situation. After all, he was still distraught. His loved ones had been killed right before his very eyes by a blurred figure that moved with lightening speed. To suddenly leave his village and act as if nothing had happen was a bit extreme. Syaoran didn't think he could do it.
Dizziness suddenly overcame him as nausea swept through him. Syaoran coughed blithely, hands flying to his mouth. He gagged. He could feel the vomit coming up, but successfully avoided the expulsion. Swiping a hand across his mouth, he grinded out harshly.
"W-Will you come with me?"
The glowing hands paused unexpectedly.
"I can't," the voice finally berated. "Sorry, I will have to check up on you later." Eriol stood, looking at Syaoran with gentle eyes and utmost concern. Syaoran felt indebted that instant, going teary eyed. "Remember Syaoran, you mustn't tell people your true identity. Live life as servant, and I'll come back for you."
Syaoran sniffed. "But, I'll want to avenge my people."
Eriol cracked a faint smile. "You do that. For now, flee." He held out his right arm as Syaoran clasped on it with fidgeting fingers, pulling himself up. His legs wobbled a bit, but other than that his health had somewhat stabilized. Eriol faced Syaoran's trembling frame toward the back entrance. "Flee, Syaoran," he whispered.
Nodding curtly, Syaoran scuttled through the hallway and into the kitchen, making his escape route be the path into the woods. It was usually dangerous at dusk, and Syaoran fear being alone. He didn't want to leave his homeland. He didn't want to leave Eriol who was probably fighting off those evildoers to barter time.
He felt worthless that he wasn't any help.
Recalling the events quite clearly, all he remembered doing was just standing there in a petrified daze as everybody was slaughtered. As Fuutie's blood splattered across his cheeks, as Femei's widened eyes peered frantically at him – pleading for help or warning him to run away, he couldn't tell.
Syaoran let out a harsh growl, collapsing onto the earth beneath him. He clawed the soil, scratched his arms – did anything to relieve the sorrow in his heart. Fresh tears squeezed through his weary eyes. He wanted it all to end. Did Eriol really think he could make this journey alone? Dimwitted fool, no he couldn't! When Syaoran's breath finally evened out, he fixated his eyes on a light flashing in the distance.
He recoiled when the light came toward his direction. 'Intruders…' he thought.
Even though Eriol had summoned up his own strength to give to Syaoran so the boy could walk, it wasn't enough to make a brisk getaway. The flashes became more evident and blinding as it hit crosswise Syaoran's face. He shielded his eyes weakly. He didn't care if he'd been founded out. A life as a servant didn't cut it for Syaoran. His previous life of adoration and plentiful resources was so much better than this crap.
He'd rather die as future heir to his slaughtered clan than as a measly servant.
"I'm sorry…"
Two faces floated above him. By now, he was completely blinded by the light shining cruelly in his face. "Urgh…" His head shifted away from the light, tufts of brown hair rubbing against the mucky, dirt ground. He was too feeble to move any further than that.
"Touya, you're blinding him," scolded an unrecognizable tone.
"Bullshit."
Yukito bent down, examining the small boy. "Look at his garments, Touya. He's not from here."
"Perhaps he's a fugitive," Touya sneered. "Let's go, Yukito!"
"We should at least help him. You know, bring him back to Tomoeda for inspection."
Syaoran's breath hitched. Tomoeda… Hewaved his hands up over his face to shield from the light. "T-Tomoeda," he wheezed.
Unfortunately, neither of the older boys heard him. Touya grunted, turning his flashlight off and shoving it back into his pack. He swerved on his heels. ""Nah, that's too much effort and a waste of time. Now come on, Yukito! We're late enough as it is!"
Oh no! They were leaving him! He could hear their shoes shuffling away. Syaoran moaned out a plea, fighting to keep consciousness. His hand tapped the ground, trying to grasp any of their attention. Trying at best to sustain his alertness, Syaoran gathered his might and cried.
"W-Wait. Don't leave me. You must take me to Tomoeda," he rasped. "Please… t-take me with you."
Yukito pulled Touya's sleeve, frowning. "Touya!"
Touya glanced back, surprised to see the 'fugitive' boy struggling to stand. He was crawling on all fours toward their direction, inadvertently making Touya step back. "You there, stop!" he clamored. "Before you move any further, state you name and involvement in Tomoeda."
"Touya, he's just a boy and he's injured. I don't think he functions as a possible opponent to our village," Yukito informed quietly.
Touya disregarded the comment. "Your name!" he hissed.
"My name is not of any importance to you," Syaoran spoke softly, wheezing. "I am merely an orphan seeking refuge in Tomoeda. My purpose is to serve. A peasant, if you may. If there's a means of transportation, I'd like for you guys to take me there. Please, I beg of you. I need to make my amends."
a/n: Orii-des. I've begun my series of chapter inputting. This is the story I'll be actively working on from now on. Expect updates from this one. I'd love some feedbacks too! Sorry for killing off 'most' of Syaoran's family. It must be done in order to initiate the plotline, thus prologue.
Part two of prologue, Syaoran meets Sakura. There will be four parts, and after a time lapse of eight years, will begin the actual storyline. Review!