Authors Note Only one for the entire series, so bear with me on the length here, please.:
Now, I'm saying this once, and only once, for this Fanfic -"Cardcaptor Sakura"
character names and descriptions, including appearance and
personality are all (c) CLAMP.
Places of the setting,
secondary characters, plotline, and story are all (c) moi, as in me, as
in the one to be referred to from now on as 'Ilyce V. Mairenne'.
Any form of copying, borrowing, or 'rewriting' the following story is not allowed in any way, and will not be tolerated.
Now that that's said, let's move on to a lighter note: me bet you all thought I meant the story right?. Since this is the first fanfic I've posted - there's more waiting, so, stay tuned - I decided I should warn you a few things. After all, I'm not sure just how many people bother with the Profiles, so...
Anyway, I'm a very big "fan" of literacy. I promote
grammer and good spelling, but I am not perfect, so if you review this,
and manage to find a mistake or two, PLEASE tell me. I'm begging you. I
will love you forever if you do.
Though not directly related to that fact, I wish to also include that I
do not swear, say curse words, etc... I just don't. Not in real life,
and not when I type, and I am not a big fan of having it said to me.
So if you wish to criticize me - and by all means, go ahead, I don't
mind, in fact no writer will improve if not criticized - please do it
with at least a reasonable degree of good, solid language that's not
too much to ask, right?
Alright, moving on to the story I know this is long, but please bear with me since all the other chapters will have like no author's notes - I like to only say things once: please note that the chapters will be fairly short. This is because:
1. It lets me continue the storyline quicker, and update sooner.
2. It means these first few chapters will not be action-packed or
anything. The plot is weaved in, but not as quickly as in other fanfics
you may or may not have read.
3. I am busy, as most writers are, and what's more, I, like most
writers, have other hobbies besides writing, so please, be patient, I
have decided to make the chapters this way to make it the most
efficient possible in updating - if you're all lucky, which you very
much might be - weekly.
And on an ending note, I'd just like to hope that you
all enjoy the story, which, I'll add, is likely to be a long one, so,
be prepared.
Writers write for their own pleasure, but I'm happiest when the readers enjoy it to.
Well, read and review or, at the very least, just read!
Oh, and before I forget, if anyone could also help me with the rating for this story, I'd be very grateful.
Chapter 1 - "Inciting Incidents"
"Get up."
The prisoner groans, still somewhat asleep, and impartial to speech of any kind. A hand drew closer to the chest, brushing across the damp straw on the cold stone floor.
"Get up, I say."
The soldier's voice sounds impatient, and a booted foot jabs the young man's side. The fine leather contrasts greatly against the ripped, thin grey shirt, and the man takes care not to soil it. Jerked into reality, two hazel eyes flicker open at last.
Blinking in the torchlight, still barely casting any glow to the dank dungeons, the figure distinctly hears keys rattling and turns just in time to see the door swing in his direction, rolling away quickly to avoid collision.
"Get up."
Gee, don't you ever get tired of repeating yourself? This time he sees the soldier's open look of disgust clearly. Ah, so you have also noticed your redundancy. Standing, the teenager faces the soldier, waiting to discover just what was to ensue.
"Well? Are you just going to stand there all day?"
"Stand where?"
"In that prison cell, you dolt."
"Oh." He walks out slowly, dragging the rusted chains, vigorously shaking a head topped in messy brown locks and crowned in straw. Hm. That water must have been drugged with a sleeping draught or something.
The iron cell door clangs shut behind him, echoing down the hall.
"Follow me." After taking a torch from a holder in the wall, the soldier takes two steps, then turns back around. "Don't try anything."
"In this condition? Why would I?" I may have been stupid enough to get caught by your people, but I am not an idiot.
The soldier gives no reply aside from continuing the march forward, torch in one hand. The movements ring loudly, with a strange, hollow sound.
Hands and feet both still in chains, undernurished and sore, with dirt and dust all over his clothes, the young man stumbles over the small rocks beneath his feet and falls behind. Fatigue keeps his head down, and his eyelids droop as his feet threaten to trip and spill out from under him.
Throughout the passage, the soldier never turns back around, often leaving the prisoner to the shadows and darkness that swallow their footsteps.
"Wait here." The one pushes past the cloth separating the chamber from the hall, as the other lingers, taking the opportunity to rest awhile.
Looking to where the soldier enters, the young man discerns a grand chamber, with counselors lined up on either side of a wide, snow-white, velvet rug. This must be the throne room.
"Your highness, the prisoner."
"Send him in."
The voice comes from the raised section at the rear, where thicker falls of white fabric form a canopy over two figures, shielding them from view.
While the soldier walks back, the young man strains to see through the layers of gauze, where the speaker, who he can tell is female, must be.
"You are permitted to enter now."
What? Am I not good enough for "You may come in now"? Why am I here anyway? It's not like I did anything wrong. Yet. The comments are held back though, and no complaint is uttered as the soldier leads him into the chamber.
