The sun shone peeking free of its curtain of white. The morning wind was blowing against an old cherry blossom tree that rose high above the ground. Petals were silently streaming downward, twirling. The early morning dews were slowly dripping.
Atop this ancient wonder, on a branch that shot forward towards a small balcony belonging to the beautiful English two-story manor, a lone cherry blossom swayed with the wind until it came off and glided towards an open window, its top in a high arch. The blossom went past the window's rippling white silk curtains lined in pink entering a room filled with antiques that were admirably carved and were arranged gloriously against purple-blue walls.
The blossom continued its journey towards a large and wide, handsomely carved four poster bed clothed in various shades of blue. The top of the bed was short of a few feet to touch the ceiling. The flower landed on long fingers and slid down the palm of a hand that was resting on white pink-laced pillows.
The 21-year-old woman opened amethyst eyes at the feeling of something that tickled her fingers. She smiled seeing the blossom. Sitting up slowly, cherry blossom in hand, she pulled her cobalt bedding away and stood. Her long raven hair falling in waves by her thighs. The simple, single-strap cream silk nightgown, which ended at her ankles, was clearly seen behind her robe of translucent white cloth and its long open sleeves with the tips nearly touching the floor.
Barefoot, she glided toward the window, her robe skimming the floor. When she reached the window she put up a hand to shield her eyes as she looked up. Smiling still, she lowered her gaze, and cupped the cherry blossom with both hands.
Facing the branch near her window, she spoke "Come here." Her voice was light and beautiful. She took a breath and started singing a song or rather a tune, for no words were spoken and yet it spoke of the beauty of nature. As she sang, the branch began to grow, twisting its way towards her. As she continued to sing, her eyes had lightened to the palest shade of purple.
She ended the song making the branch stop growing being an arm's length away from the balcony's rail. Her eyes had gone back to their normal shade of amethyst, which was a rare color to see in one's eyes anywhere. Only her family had this eye color and yet it only appears in one family member every other generation. On one special family member, the one's who would succeed the priest or priestess and would have the right to the possession of powers controlled by the magic of the moon.
She breathed onto the blossom and it glowed. She reached out her arms to safely return it back onto the branch. However, before it touched the branch she heard footsteps immensely muffled by the grass covering her family's vast open land.
Her hearing was one of her best and worst attributes. Upon concentration she would even have heard the lightest sound possible. Unfortunately, she sometimes heard things she would never have wanted to listen to.
Her eyes darted below, as she stood still. She patiently waited, not moving an inch at all, for the person to come to view.
Out from under the cover of cherry blossoms came a young man with hair so dark it was blue. His cloak brushing against the grass.
The woman who was still transfixed with alertness glared at him as if he were someone to be suspicious of — then he looked up.
He had been walking around the Amamiya manor, which looked almost normal considering that traditional Japanese gardens and temples surrounded the building.
On his way to the manor, he had seen outside the carriage window a tall cherry blossom tree, its flowers swaying in the wind.
After the formal introductions were made he was showed his room. As soon as the servant left he immediately sneaked out his window knowing full well the consequence of his actions if his guardian, Wei, saw him but he had quickly thought of a plan along the way in the carriage.
He walked with a leisurely pace towards his destination. As he drew close, he heard singing. 'A song without words, how appropriate,' he thought looking at his surroundings. Listening to the song, he felt a deep purple aura emitting from it, 'How unique,' he thought knowing full well that only the Amamiya family had purple auras and even then it was only to the successors and the priests or priestesses.
The aura was enchanting just like the song and moments after it had ended had suddenly vanished. But he knew its owner had only hid it, just as he was doing now to avoid Wei (wherever he was).
As he turned the corner and saw the tree, he knew he was being watched from above. Smiling, he came to view of the window and lifted his head to the person. He saw her retreat and the surprise on her face.
He stepped forward and accidentally stepped on an exposed root of the tree, a slight snap was heard. With the sudden expression of anger on the woman's face, he knew he did something wrong. 'Oops.'
Her aura flared. 'Ah! My sakura tree!' her mind screamed.
And before anything drastic happened, the double doors to her room flew open. "Yukimiko!" her best friend since childhood and close cousin, Nakagawa Ayame, shouted.
She was dressed in her usual attire and hair do, which was her dark ninja uniform and a really high ponytail of extremely long straight-as-a-pin black hair. Though she was female she was, admittedly, one of the best among their clan, the Shototsu (clash [collision]). She was also known as the Kiba, the fang for her expertise on anything with a blade and her power of making ice "fangs" (blades) from any water available to her. Yukimiko had felt her silver aura nearing but had ignored it.
When Ayame had come in shouting, Yukimiko had turned around quickly and lost her hold on the cherry blossom. She immediately looked back and tried to reach for it but it was too far. When she was about to use her magic Ayame took hold of her arm pulling her away saying, "We have no time for that Yuki," she called her by her nickname that she used only in private and only by the people closest to Yukimiko. "Uncle wants you dressed up and ready when you come down." She explained as she kept on pulling Yukimiko away from the window.
"Why should I?" Yuki whined, pouting, still trying to reach the flower.
"It looks like we've got ourselves a guest."
At the mention of guest Yukimiko immediately forgot the blossom (and the young man) and was the one who was pulling instead of Ayame.
"We have a guest and your dressed like that? Come on Aya, show some fashion sense for once. When we have a guest you don't want to be seen in those muddy garments," she told her friend while trying to push Ayame near her closet.
"Uncle said YOU dress up! Not me!" Ayame complained.
"Stop whining, will you?!" Yuki retaliated.
Down below the young man still stood but this time with an expression of immense relief. 'That was close. Well, it seems I've been forgotten.'
He looked up and saw the lone blossom floating to him. Smiling he reached out a hand and let it fall on his open palm. 'Sakura.'
With the blossom still in hand, he immediately dashed away at an impossible speed and was back in his room in no time.
He closed the window's white silk curtains, which were framed in gold. He didn't want anyone looking and accidentally see something they shouldn't.
Sitting down on his bed, he placed the blossom beside him and removed his glasses to clean them up.
Putting them back on, he gazed around the room to get a good look at it since he had left quickly not bothering to look around.
The room was high and wide giving a feeling of having space. Its elaborate furniture was handsomely carved along with the four poster bed he was sitting on. The walls and bedding were the colors of crimson and gold.
He turned to his side and faced another him who was standing a short distance away from the bed. "Thank you. You may go back now." Having said that the other him nodded his head and in a twirl of light blue air, became a girl who stepped back into a giant sized mirror that too became a twirl of mist that this time turned into a card at the young man's hand.
Smiling, he stood, after picking up the blossom. Curious, he gazed at the thin stem that had grown at such a short span of time. 'It must be her magic.'
Stepping out of the room, he closed the door and walking away, Clow Reed hid three cards that had the girl holding a mirror, a sleek looking animal with a blue diamond on its head, and a lock. Each named The Mirror, The Dash and The Lock.
— End of Prologue —