Author's Note: Finally, a new chapter up! Enjoy, and don't forget to leave reviews! The more reviews I get, the more motivation I have to write faster. (evil glint)
Disclaimer: I claim no possession of Card Captor Sakura or any related characters.
2. Loss:
The darkness consumed me like cold waters, and I drowned in its depths. I struggled to find my breath, but all that I could feel was nothingness. The tangible feeling of being sucked into the voids of a black hole. I could feel myself slipping further and further down, shying away from the beating warmth of the sun and into the calm slumber of death. I didn't want to wake up. I didn't want to have to face the reality I had witnessed. I could see only the crimson stains of her blood. I could barely think her name, or I knew my tears would fall and be lost in the waters that held me prisoner.
Images floated in my mind, distorted and disproportionate, like figures from a nightmare. The sickly white of her skin. The flowers of blood that seeped into the carpet. The thick black puddle, so sleek I could see myself reflected in its shallow depths. And in the dark confines of my mind, I could see her lifeless orbs glowing with an unnatural green aura, as if frozen in horror at some deathly sight.
Slowly, slowly, I felt the pressure normalize. The waters of unconsciousness began to settle. The sun was much closer now, I could feel its warmth spread across my chest, and then my arms and legs, and last my face and eyelids. I had somehow risen from the depths, and I could feel consciousness rise from the back of my head. I inhaled one deep breath of much-needed fresh air. Suddenly I was aware of my surroundings, although I kept my eyes closed. I was still haunted by the horrifying images, and I didn't want to be reminded of their gruesomeness.
One thing was certain, I was no longer at Sak—her place. It smelled distinctly different, like antique wood and books, completely devoid of the acrid odor of iron and rust. I could hear very faint buzzing from the next room over, muffled by thick walls. From what I could feel, I was lying on some sort of mattress, or at the very least a futon. By the strength of the rays of light that struck my eyelids, I estimated it should be midday.
I felt absolutely no compulsion to move. I don't know how long I lay there. It felt like many hours. I lay there silently, replaying the events in my mind, and each time the images became worse. Blood swirled in my head like a maelstrom. Her beautiful, lovely face, distorted so I could see nothing but her terror-filled eyes. Her limp body, never so small to me, so frail. I occasionally noticed the moving angle of the sun, fading in strength, until my eyelids were cold again, and I realized it was night.
I felt numb. The images had left me, and I remained alone with the dull comfort of silence, and darkness. I could hear nothing but my own breathing, the faint thumping of my heart. I could sense my existence ebbing, my mind fading. I no longer wished to live. Through my training, my willpower had become impossibly strong, and I could not find in me the will to exist any longer. She and I had been one, and it had become impossible for one to live without the other.
My senses were awakened when I felt the overwhelming aura of another magical being. My heart was shattered again when the tiny glimmer of hope that it might be her pink and life-giving aura was lost altogether. It was much heavier than hers, much older. Antique, like the smell of the wood. Lost in my sea of sorrow, I reluctantly scanned my knowledge. Who could it be? It was so familiar, yet difficult to place. Who else could possibly have so much magical power... ?
Eriol.
His name had barely entered my mind, had barely grazed the surfaces of my thoughts, when his own even-tempered voice answered me.
"Syaoran," he whispered. He knew it was loud enough for my sensitive ears to understand. I lay perfectly still, my breath even. I fought the compulsion to open my eyes. I didn't want to awaken from my slow descent to death, didn't want to acknowledge a world without my angel. The images were only barely contained, and I felt any disturbance might break the dam and I would feel the shattering blow again deep in my stomach. The room remained silent for several long moments. I controlled my thoughts, gathered my composure.
"Eriol," I answered finally in kind, acknowledging his presence. I immediately regretted my tone and felt my muscles twitch at the sound of my own voice. Cold and harsh as ice, I felt his name cut into the air like the swift blow of a katana. I hadn't meant to sound so angered, so violent. I sensed, even with my eyes closed, the tensing of his muscles, the clenching of his teeth – he had cringed. It was a sudden reminiscence of earlier years, I realized. In a matter of hours, I had reverted to the cold and solitary child I had once been, had rebuilt the stone wall that had once separated me from the warmth of love and happiness. With both stripped from me, I felt strangely empty, as if in losing them I had also lost my purpose for living.
"Syaoran," he repeated, gentler now. It sounded more like a request than a statement, less like he was simply acknowledging my presence, and more like he was appealing to my sense of reason.
I sighed inwardly. I supposed then that I would not receive the peace required to drift into unconsciousness. I reluctantly forced my eyes open. The room spun for a moment, and slowly everything came into focus. I saw first the tall, cathedral ceilings, casting sharp contrasts of light and darkness, and the dim and intimate lighting provided by gas light fixtures on the wall. My eyes trailed downward to the simple adornments in the room itself – an antique chair and its accompanying desk, two bookshelves filled with ancient-looking tomes and leather-bound volumes. They explained the oddly comforting scents I had identified upon first reaching consciousness. The object beneath me thanks to which I had avoided a back ache was a futon, as I had suspected. Having finally satisfied my curiosity, I finally turned my gaze towards the sorcerer himself.
His customary blue robes hadn't changed in the slightest in the last decade, and it looked simply as though they had grown with him. Whether he had fashioned a new robe, or had used his magic to enhance the old one was a mystery to me. It was beautiful, the midnight azure complementing the proud sparkle of sun gold threads, painting an intricate pattern – absolutely mesmerizing and perfectly befitting the reincarnation of the once-great Clow Reed.
The man himself had grown much since we had last met. The roundness of his child's face had thinned, and his pale skin drew tightly across his high cheekbones. And yet, he still looked like the very same Eriol I had known so many years ago. His calm demeanor, his kind features, his thick eyebrows hiding centuries of knowledge, in spirit much older than his twenty-odd years. However, behind thin wire glasses, Eriol's eyes were thick with pain, regret, and age, gazing at me with some forlorn look.
I understood at once what he meant. He knew. He had seen. And so a look of understanding passed between us, and no words were passed for several minutes. I shared with him my pain, my sadness, and he shared his with me. In those few minutes, I found some semblance of comfort, a feeling that I was not completely alone in my depression. For in losing my only love, Eriol had lost a descendent in magical ability. And together, we had lost a best friend.
Simply his presence threatened to bring back memories of her, and I turned away, not wanting to entertain the possibility that my careful control would be lost. Eriol must have taken this gesture as a sign of anger, because he sighed and muttered something. It was so slurred that I barely understood what he had said.
"I'm sorry," he repeated more clearly. His voice had broken, and his face had fallen. I thought I saw the glimmer of a tear as it fell to the ground, heard the imperceptible pitter it made as it wet the floor.
"It's not your fault, Eriol," I replied, my own voice tight. It was not a humiliating sight to see him cry. It required strength to succumb to tears, and I understood his thoughts perfectly. Sorry didn't even begin to explain how I felt. How much I felt like a failure. My only promise had been to protect her, and yet I hadn't been able to do even that.
"The fault is not yours," he added sincerely, meeting my gaze again with such intensity I wondered if he could read my mind. I sighed audibly, not able to hold in my exasperation and my frustration any longer.
"Of course it's my fault. There are so many things I could have done to prevent it. I should have been there with her, not left her alone last night. I should have listened to my nerves, I knew something was wrong this morning – " Had it really been so recent? It felt so distant, like the horrible nightmares that haunted me when I closed my eyes were memories of something that had happened a long time ago. And yet I knew it had only happened hours ago, I could feel my wounded heart throbbing painfully at the knowledge that she was gone. I swallowed hard and continued, "— I knew I should have been there. I got her answering machine this morning, I should have known something was wrong. She always picks up the phone, I can't believe how stupid I was for even thinking I should neglect my senses –"
"Syaoran, please calm down," he interjected, putting a stop on my explanations with an intense look in his eyes. "You mustn't place the blame for what happened to Sakura on yourself..."
The sound of her name silenced me for a moment, and my heart pinched. He left the final word hanging on a precipice, as if he was preparing himself to continue, but needed time to phrase it. I gazed into his wise eyes and searched for what he may be thinking. All I saw was chaos. He continued.
"Her... death... was not a coincidence. It has been said before – there is no coincidence in this world, only hitsuzen," he finished lingering carefully on every word. The word was vague in my mind, but I remembered it. It was Kaho-sensei who had used it during Yue's Final Judgment. Hitsuzen – loosely translated it meant "that which is inevitable", but in truth it was much subtler. It was the concept that events were destined to occur as they paved the way for necessary future actions.
"So what you're trying to say is, she was... destined to die?" I asked, my brows furrowed. I struggled to control my rising temper – I would not allow myself to believe that my angel's death was inevitable. Eriol shook his head.
"No. She is destined to live," he clarified. I did not understand, it seemed to contradict everything. He explained.
"I suppose it would make most sense for me to go back to the beginning. Being the reincarnation of Clow Reed, I possess his memories and replicated magic of his. However, I am not Clow Reed. I embody only one of his halves – the other half, as you know, resides in Sakura's father. I possess weakened magic of Clow Reed's, while Fujitaka possesses none. In truth, Sakura's father once possessed hidden magic of equal strength to mine. Fujitaka's half was passed to Touya and Sakura upon their births.
"My own power is limited. I wield powerful spells, and my memories provide me with vast knowledge of the magical world. However, there are... holes. Blind spots. I cannot see everything. Certain aspects of the future I cannot behold. I suppose this must be the consequence of being one half of a whole. The limitations of my power impeded visions of Sakura's death.
"I have known for several decades that there would be a period of blindness. It was very uncomfortable to not see, and it made me irritable. I searched within every book, every page, for possibilities. Spells strong enough to cloud my visions. I found very little, and what the books described, I already knew. I searched within the confines of my mind. I meditated for many months, nearly exhausting my memory banks.
"I found, in the end, a very old memory. It was fragmented, and I couldn't see it clearly. It was much like attempting to decipher washed away ink. All I remembered was a sorcerer of great power, a rival to Clow Reed, with great hatred. My intuition told me it was relevant, that it would provide answers. Although, judging by the strength of the memory, I do not possess it entirely.
"Even now, my visions are murky. I do not completely comprehend the memory I found. However, I can see past this period of blindness. Sakura must live. She will live."
He finished powerfully, his eyes filled with light. My mind juggled with the fresh knowledge. The entire battle plan had changed in a matter of minutes. Clow Reed's visions were never incorrect. And if Eriol were to be believed, then that would mean...
"I can save Sakura?" I allowed myself to pronounce her name, my heart awakening with the possibility that it may find its reason for beating.
Eriol nodded once.
And for what felt like the first time, there was hope. Whatever it meant, however long it took, I would save Sakura.
Author's Note: Eek, sorry for the slight delay! I did manage to complete another chapter in time for New Years, so at least that's that. I realize I lied last chapter, no Kero here, sorry folks. I altered the plot a bit since the first chapter, and it looks like he'll be absent for a few more... Not to worry though, he should make his appearance soon enough! Stay tuned, and please don't forget to review!