Four Months Before the Golden Rooster
Part Four: Card Games
Bonus Chapter #2: The Three Ravens
There was something twinkling in the night sky—but it wasn't the stars, it wasn't even lightning.
Lightning… why on earth would he even be thinking of lightning?
It was snow. Soft, sparkling snow. It shimmered like a million tiny pixies as it drifted its way, spiraling, towards the Earth. Something about it was hypnotic, calming. He wasn't entirely sure when he had begun watching it fall, but now that he had done, the sorcerer found it difficult to tear himself away. He couldn't even be certain how long it had been coming down—or indeed, how long it had been winter! For some reason, his memory was foggy. Perhaps it was because of the snow: because of the compelling way it sparkled as it blew across an inky sky. Yes, this old sorcerer had never felt more at peace with the world around him than he did now, and here. Here, with the snow softly falling. With both his breath and the chill fogging the windows. He couldn't imagine a time he would have felt any differently…
Anxiety. Had he ever felt anxiety? But then, what was there even to be anxious about? After all, they lived in a place crafted by the most merciful of gods—that was what the local Englishmen said. And how ever could such a benevolent power allow bad things to happen? The world was perfect. Nothing ever went awry. It was, truly, the best of all possible worlds.
The sound of creaking wood echoed from somewhere just behind the solitary sorcerer, but he did not wince; he did not turn around. Gentle footfalls were so graceful as they approached that they were more akin to those of mice than of men. Still standing motionless beside the panes of glass, the wizard heard the floorboards whine as his companion lifted himself up onto his toes, stretching to reach his elder. A pair of pale, thin arms—nearly as white as the snow itself—snaked their way around the wizard's shoulders. Soft lips kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"There you are," a husky voice purred in his ear. "I've been looking for you, you naughty boy."
"Looking for me?" the older man repeated over his shoulder, eyes still fixed upon the weather. "How curious. I cannot imagine why anyone would be seeking me so urgently. I am no one of consequence."
There was a small huff from his side and, in an instant, the lovely hunter whirled around to face his prey. The glow off the powder so easily became him. Long tresses of silvery hair glimmered in the moonlight. They sparkled around the boy's small body like his own private snowstorm—just as soft, just as lovely, and just as hypnotic. Skin fairer than that of any courtly lady shone like the snowy lawn. "Clow Reed," he pouted in the same silky tone, "you take me for a fool! To call yourself inconsequential…"
The man called 'Clow' smiled, unable to help himself. "My apologies," he replied with a flourish, "I didn't mean to offend." All the while he spoke, he continued to watch the snow trickle down from the sky, as if unable to look away.
The little nymph at his side put on a rather convincing pout. "Your words don't offend nearly so much as your eyes," he huffed, all the while slinking his arms back around his elder's neck. He settled himself precariously against the windowsill, leaning his body ever closer to his quarry's. Clow felt a shiver shoot up his spine as a pair of strong, slender thighs slid along his own. The blond smirked with satisfaction. "You think she's prettier than me, don't you?" he exclaimed, tossing his head to the side and staring back out the window. His voice rose and fell melodically: a beautifully mocked whine.
For a moment, Clow hadn't the faintest idea what the boy was talking about—and didn't particularly care, either! He watched his charge's long, flowing hair glitter upon the air as it whipped around, following its owner's sudden turn of face. He stared mesmerized as it sparkled and fell gracefully back into place. Suddenly all other thoughts were wiped from his mind. The allure of the snowy night was completely forgotten. He could remember nothing more than delicate white skin, glowing violet eyes, and silken snow-lit tresses. Surely nothing else had existed for him before that.
"Nothing could be prettier than you, Yue," Clow muttered in reply, still watching a lock of silver hair as it settled itself back around the boy's throat. He watched it flutter against his child's skin as if tousled by a small unseen wind. Truly, he could imagine nothing more beautifully crafted; the gods had done their very best with this one. "You are my alpha" he breathed, "and my omega."
"Converting to the cult of Artemis, are you?" Yue toyed, cracking a sly smile.
Clow chuckled. "If such a thing still existed in this world," he whispered, bowing his head until his brow could rest lovingly between Yue's collarbones, "I swear I would join it in a heartbeat."
Yue arched his back against his elder's sweet embrace. His lower body pushed up off the window sill, pressing up against Clow's own until there was scarcely space for air between them. "But heartbeats vary," he moaned softly into his master's hair, burying his face deeply into its messy ebony locks. "Tell me: what kind would your conversion be? Slow, like a man at rest? Or fast, like racing the heart of a lover?"
"Oh gods, let it be the lover!" Clow cried longingly. In one massive movement, he whipped his arms around Yue's sides, gripping him firmly and tightly with limbs thick as a bear's. He pulled himself up at once—nearly dragging his charge off the ground!—and crashed them both back against the hard pains of the window. Yue gasped, throwing his head back as a pair of powerful hips thrust forcefully against his own. Flesh upon flesh crashed into unyielding rock, mercilessly cold glass. Clow seized his opportunity. Gripping the young boy hard about the shoulders, he dragged him up into a deep and passionate kiss.
But it did not last long. With a pang, the sorcerer felt his charge grow tense beneath him. Clow felt his heart hammering like a schoolboy's when they quickly parted again. Yue paused for air, throwing himself back like a frightened maiden. But he did not draw away—he did not seek to squirm himself out of his companion's touch. He glanced at his elder, wide-eyed, his amethyst irises sparkling strangely. His heavy breath fluttered upon Clow's lips like the wing beats of a butterfly.
Then, without a moment's hesitation, he threw himself back into his master's embrace, returning his kiss with such vigor that now it was Clow's turn to gasp! His body slinked and pulsed beneath the older wizard's, undulating against him like a rolling wave. Intertwined in a hot mess of flesh and hair and sweaty cloth, their aching bodies crashed into each other, parted, and found one another again in a variety of new and varied places. Each touch like lightning! Each brief moment of contact stinging like a thousand pinpricks! And still, they did not release! They seemed to have no need to breathe anymore. The cold radiating in through the snowy window did not even penetrate.
White-hot light was filling Clow's head—filling it so fully that for a moment, he almost felt as if it was consuming his vision as well! Light. Flashing, striking, burning! For a split second, he could almost see it—see it there before him!
Lightning… Pain like a thousand needles… there was something about that he should remember. But whatever it was, it mattered not to Clow Reed. Not now. Not here. Whatever might have been lingering in his soul, it was gone from his mind.
After what seemed like a lifetime, Clow at last pulled away, gasping for breath as if he had just run the journey to marathon.
"Welcome to the temple," Yue cooed, breathing with only slightly less ease—as if he was merely on a nighttime stroll! He nuzzled playfully up to Clow one final time, lips lightly fluttering down the side of his lover's throat. The sorcerer felt like he could melt away right then and there—melt like snow! At some point, the young mage's arms had fallen away from his master's shoulders. Clow could feel them moving somewhere up against his chest, desperately unbuttoning the front of their owner's vest.
"And what a lovely temple it is!" The wizard breathed, dragging Yue into another deep and impassioned kiss. The hands froze in their work, plastered and immovable between their pair of heaving breasts. But this time they did not stay so long, and after several heavy seconds, their lips broke away with a tiny whine. Yue leaned back against the window for support, momentarily stunned with pleasure and love and the heat of the moment. Clow took advantage of his daze, tearing the remainder of the buttons away from their holders. He ripped the garment off Yue's shoulders with surprising force; the young mage sighed with approval as it crumpled to the floor at their feet.
"It's sacred too, you know," he panted as Clow pressed hard against him and lay a string of vicious kisses down his neck, "holy."
"Is it now?" the wizard gasped, lifting his head only to come up for air. His gaze immediately fell on Yue's sparkling violet eyes, misted over with thick emotion, but still breathtakingly beautiful. Slowly, he felt himself sink lower on his charge's delicate body. Those eyes… He truly did feel as if he should be reverent beneath those eyes. He nuzzled his head lovingly against Yue's abdomen; the warmpth of another body so near was all the more prominent in the cold of the night. He pulled lightly away, and fingered with the soft fabric that had just lain beneath his cheek. With the utmost gentleness, he untucked the base of Yue's shirt from around his waist and rolled it carefully up. Milky white flesh shimmered as it was borne into the radiant moonlight. The rest of his body giving way, Clow planted a long, loving kiss lowly upon the hem of his lover's breeches, where cloth met tender skin. The mage's entire body pulsed as with an electric shock, and he let out a small gasp of surprise. But his hurried breathing quickly fell away to sighs of ecstasy, and Clow felt himself not afraid to press on.
Lightning… like lightning…
"Holy indeed," he muttered with veneration, letting his cheek brush against cool, snow-white flesh of Yue's exposed abdomen. "Tell me, how can I gain admittance? Will you take a sinner like me?"
Yue said nothing at first, but his arms slid down his sides, and a moment later, Clow felt the cool touch of long-fingered hands upon his shoulders. Gently, they bid him rise. The wizard's head shot up at once, and he found himself, humbled upon the ground, staring up once again into those sparkling violet eyes. Gradually, he began to stand, following the guidance of the incontrovertible beauty before him. Around them, the snowflakes whirled against the window pane—as if they were really here, as if these two were truly out there, standing among them…
"Well," Yue whispered at last, when Clow was half way out of his kneel, "First, you have to be baptized." The cool hands slinked now around Clow's own and, under Yue's direction, the pair of them grasped at the free edges of the mage's thin, cotton shirt. The wizard watched—body racing, but mind dull—and as he rose from the ground, so too the garment rose higher and higher off the young boy's flesh. When Clow at last was standing steadily on his two feet again, the blond released him and lifted his arms gracefully above his head. With a silent swoop, the pale material was cast over and away from him altogether.
Sighing, his head spinning like a top, Clow took a step back and admired his handiwork. Yue leaned back against the glass, his entire upper body heaving heavily. He stretched his arms out to either side, running them desperately against the cold stone of the window frame. He was now completely bare above the waist, and his breeches, having been loosened and shifted with in all the commotion, were slowly falling even lower to the crest of his hips. Wisps of fine, silver hair curled lightly over their crest, tauntingly; they glistened with the rest of him like a long arrow tempting towards all that remained hidden.
Clow looked him over greedily, soaking up every inch of his porcelain frame. Yue was not so delicate as he appeared—Clow had known that already, but every time he relished in the rediscovery. He was thin and slight, but he was strong. There was not an inch of the mage's flesh these days that did not betray the warrior's constitution, growing within him. His skin was such a peerless white that it almost glowed with blinding glare like the snowfall around him. His curtains of hair had long ago fallen from their bind, and were now rippling everywhere—plastered over sweat-kissed flesh, clinging to the steamy panes of the window, swirling in great cascades across the floorboards. They sparkled in ways that a thousand snowflakes could not rival. Once again, Clow felt his knees growing weak.
"You are a temple," he moaned faintly, "and you are holy…" his voice trailed away, lost in the awe and reverence that consumed him.
But this time, Yue would not let him fall. Before the wizard had even the chance to begin his descent, a familiar pair of milky limbs snaked around him; he drew the shaking sorcerer into a deep embrace. The window panes creaked and groaned in protest as the weight of two full bodies pressed against them, but neither man paid them any mind. Lovingly, Yue wrapped his arms tightly—protectively—around his lover's upper body, cradling Clow's tired face snugly to his breast. He hugged them so tightly together that Clow thought wildly they might never be parted—merged together into one another: fair and tanned, calloused and unblemished, two flesh as one! Clow breathed deeply and slowly, trying with all his might to calm his own bounding nerves. At first, he could do little more than gasp, pant—the fever of passion still strangling him like a noose—but then as the seconds ticked by, he felt himself give in to the embrace.
Yes, everything was beautiful. Everything was perfect. A part of Clow could scarcely believe he was here now—with Yue, like this. How long had he waited? Dreamed? Fantasized? The real thing was more perfect than he ever could have imagined!
The best night in the best of all possible worlds. How could things ever have been differently?
How could anything ever…
…separate them…?
…
…
But at the same time—even though he felt it with every fiber of his being! At the same time that blissful ecstasy was running through the wizard's mind, at the same time that he was relishing the moment, at the same time he could not imagine darkness or fear or pain…!
At the same time, it was creeping in on him.
'Separate them'. Why would he even think such a thing as that? If the thing was not possible! If the thing did not exist in this perfect world!
…how could a perfect world let him conceive of the idea?
…
…
And so he lay there, cradled against his lover's breast, taking in every sight and sound and scent and feeling his mortal form could bear. And for the most part, the passion from moments before still consumed him: beautiful, unblemished.
But somewhere, somewhere deep inside of the man, there was another storm beginning to stir again…
Another storm…
"So," Yue panted an eternity later, "why were you looking out at the lawn?" His voice was slightly hoarse and still very thick with emotion, but to Clow, it was still the loveliest sound he could imagine just now. Not even the heavenly song of a child could have been sweeter.
The song of a child…
But something about that was wrong. For a split second, the room seemed to flash. Flash with what, Clow couldn't say, for it was gone before he'd even that chance to contemplate it. The elder wizard felt his stomach churn slightly, but he pushed it aside, dismissing the incident as if it had never happened.
"I don't know exactly," he answered at last, snuggling closer still to Yue's chest. "I was actually contemplating that when you came upon me…"
He held his partner tightly—tighter even than he had before. It was not the cold, not that wintery chill that he was escaping. He couldn't explain it. Everything was right here. Everything was perfect. This was exactly how things were supposed to be, so whatever could be the matter? But for some reason, Clow felt the need to cling—the need to hold onto this beautiful child in his arms as if, in the next second, he might not be there anymore. As if he might have been no more than a dream—a midsummer night's dream. As if Oberon, king of the fairies come to drip the dew of a flower upon his eyes and wake him from his fanciful vision.
A mid-summer night…
He glanced out the window, but the scene beyond it did not seem quite so beautiful anymore—not quite so hypnotic. Now it looked flat and cold. He hugged himself ever closer to Yue's warm, inviting body. Delicate fingers combed his hair.
"It's all right," the mage offered lightly, "Were you watching… the storm?"
For another second, a jolt of fear struck deep into Clow's heart, and the room around him momentarily flashed with color: green grass, brown mud, a dark sky.
…all new onslaughts of flashing energy exploded all across the lawn,
igniting new fires where they had only just extinguished them…
"Wh-what did you say?" he asked, voice suddenly trembling. His knees now felt like giving way for an entirely different reason.
"The snowstorm," Yue replied easily, fingers pausing for a moment in their exploration.
"Oh," Clow sighed, a strange wave of relief rushing over him. "Of course." Desperately, the wizard tried to shake off the feeling of unease that was beginning to creep inside his breast. He couldn't imagine what else he could have been thinking about. A snowstorm, of course! The one raging outside just this second. What other storm could he possibly have been thinking of…? What did he have to be frightened about? Here in this best of all possible worlds? "Yes, I guess I must have been watching the snowstorm…" he muttered, looking back out the window.
Yue smiled, and glanced over his shoulder at the snowy scene as well. "Yes," he breathed, "It's lovely, isn't it?"
Clow nuzzled his face deeper against Yue's chest, chancing a glance back out the window himself. Yes, it did seem rather nice again now—though scarcely as breathtaking as the creature in his arms. But before he could think of anything charming to say on the subject, a sudden shot of cold rushed up the sorcerer's spine, as if the chill from the window was finally starting to strike him. The doubt—the moment of doubt—was still there, was still growing inside him…
And whatever it was, Yue seemed to have felt it too. The mage blinked, his eyes locked for a moment upon the snowdrifts beyond. But he was not staring out at the scenery. He seemed like a man possessed—hypnotized as his master had been by the strange allure of the lawn. When he spoke again, his voice seemed strangely dark and distant:
"So much nicer than the lawn really looks right now…"
Clow snapped his head up instantly, but Yue wasn't looking at him anymore; he was staring into the distance, face unreadable. And the fear—the fear that had only been a trickle, a murmur in a mighty wind!—now it was here, and real. Now it was palpable. Real, powerful fear!
…The sounds of smoldering fire and crackling embers filled the woods…
For a second, another flash of panic wracked Clow's body, and the room snapped momentarily into darkness. In the distance, he swore he could hear a clap of thunder.
…Another clap of thunder rolled overhead, louder than it had been before. Nearer…
"D-didn't you say you were looking for me for some reason?" Clow stuttered, stumbling messily out of Yue's embrace. He took several strides backwards, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the panes. From his new angle, the lawn did not seem so beautiful and white anymore. It was dark, inky black. He could see neither the arching white hills nor the twinkling flakes. The grounds were suddenly a great black mystery.
For a moment longer, the mage remained at the windowsill, gaze locked upon the piles of powder as if he could see something very interesting in their midst. His lips twitched into a small frown as he turned away. "Yes," he whispered, turning back to Clow's frightened face, "I came to see if you were ready to come back out to us…"
…In the darkness of the storm, he could barely see two figures moving about amidst the rain…
"B-back?" Clow stuttered. Instinctively, he began to retreat farther and farther away. For no good reason, his heart had begun to hammer against his breast. His palms were sweaty. His long flowing cloak stuck to his skin. But not with passion. This time, it was something else. It now seemed twice as heavy as it had before—heavy as if it was drenched with rainwater. As if they truly had been standing amidst that snowstorm! No… not a snow storm….He tripped over it as he continued backing towards the door.
"Back downstairs," Yue cooed in a sing-song voice. "Everyone's down there waiting. Hawkins, Cerberus. Everyone's here. Everyone's together. It's the best of all possible worlds, right?"
But something was not right anymore. Something was terribly—terribly—wrong! Yue's voice was as sweet and seductive as it had ever been, but somehow it didn't seem as natural anymore. As beautiful!
Perfect. It was all so perfect. Like his dreams. Like his fantasies.
"C-cerberus too?" Clow mumbled, his voice shaking like the winds against the panes. "Cerberus is downstairs?"
"Of course," Yue whispered, "All the way down. Out there…" With a flick of his head, he turned back towards the window, his long silvery hair swirling about him in a way that was not altogether realistic. How was it that every strand seemed to sway so perfectly? It was so beautiful, the way it swayed as if blown in the wind. But there was no wind. There had been no wind all this while…
…The typhoon winds pounded down upon the trio of sorcerers.
It tore like needles at their rain-soaked flesh.
It threatened to rip away their sodden garments…
Quietly—at first so quietly that Clow could scarcely hear it—Yue began to hum to himself as he watched the snowy glass. Words that haunted and tormented Clow
"Down in yonder green field," his soft tenor voice murmured upon the air, "Down a down, hey down a down…"
The room flashed again, dark green grass taking the place of the hard wooden floorboards. Mud, feet deep, splashed out across the lawn before him where a throw rug had been moments before. Thunder cracked overhead like the hoof beats of an approaching cavalry…
Lightning flashed…
And rain fell…
"Down in yonder green field with a down!"
And Yue, like the most solemn narrator, continued his siren song. The words echoing inside Clow's mind like a whole swarm of angry bees.
"Please," Clow whimpered, falling to his knees, his drenched cloak billowing around him on the floorboards.
"Down in yonder green field,"
But there were no floorboards. They were tiles. Roofing tiles! "Please don't do this!"
"There lies a knight
slain
'neath
his
shield…"
"STOP THIS!"
…
…
Thunder cracked. Lightning flashed.
…
…
There was something twinkling in the night sky. It was snow. Soft, sparkling snow. It fell down from the sky in flurries so fast that Clow Reed could scarcely tell the one from the other. It was like a never-ending vision of white. Soft. Pure. White. He was watching it intently out his study window, unable to tear his gaze away. It was hypnotic, the snow. Its twinkling flakes had a special kind of allure that the old wizard could simply not explain—not even to himself. He didn't remember when he began watching them. He didn't remember how long it had been falling. Hell, he didn't even remember how long it had been winter!
The sound of creaking wood echoed from somewhere just behind the solitary sorcerer, but he did not wince; he did not turn around. Gentle footfalls were so graceful as they approached that they were more akin to those of mice than of men. A pair of thin arms snaked their way around his shoulders.
"There you are," a husky voice purred in his ear. "I've been looking for you, you naughty boy."
"Looking for me?" the older man repeated over his shoulder, eyes still fixed upon the weather. "Why ever would you be looking for me?"
His companion gave a little chuckle, hugging Clow tighter from behind. "I need your help with something," he whispered silkily.
"My help?" the sorcerer chided glancing down and taking hold of the soft arms that wrapped around him. "Whatever would you need my help for? I am no one of consequence…"
But something was wrong.
Clow's heart all but stopped within his breast.
As he held them in hand, he realized the limbs curled so lovingly around his neck were not of the smooth, unblemished flesh he had been expecting. Pale, flawless skin was reddened and cracked. Blisters burst and bubbled all up and down the young mage's wrists, leaking a clear watery fluid across the front of Clow's cloak. Think trickles of blood—some dried, some still flowing—cascaded all down the boy's hands. They were burned. Horribly burned!
The wizard stared in horror, releasing his grip at once. A few flesh blisters burst as he released them. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the voice to speak. To ask Yue what had happened! To ask who had hurt him so! But before he could say a word, his companion spoke yet again, his voice as calm as ever.
"You're the only one left who can help," he whispered, drawing his injured hands back to his sides. At once, Clow whirled around, following them back to their owner.
Yue stood only a few lengths behind him. His milky white skin shone like fresh snow in the moonlight, but it was caked here and there with dirt and bruises and tiny scratches. His long glittering hair was wrapped behind him in a plait that reached easily to his ankles; it was half undone, flyaway strands broken and muddy, stuck to his rain-washed flesh. He was not wearing his usual formality of dress, but was standing before Clow in little more than faded breeches and a thin white shirt—the latter soaked until it was nearly transparent. His creamy stockings were torn in multiple places.
But that was not what caught Clow's attention. Yue's hands were outstretched towards him, trembling as water and a thin red fluid streaked down them across his arms. A dark horrible stain was splattered all across his drenched, shaking body.
"Won't you help me get the blood out?" he whispered.
…
…
"With a down! Derry, derry, derry down, down!"
…
…
A scream wrenched across the night. High. Shrieking. It was a blood-curdling scream that made even the blazing fires tremble upon the trees. A scream of pain. A scream…
Of death.
The glow of the lightning ignited the entire sky, consuming all the land in its light as well as its victim.
Atop the roof, Clow collapsed to his knees, his dream world shattered completely as cacophonous thunder exploded overhead. He watched, unbelieving—unwilling to believe!—as the murderous bolts struck their target. Viscous streams of electricity exploded around the body in the air as it froze, mid-way off the ground. No, he thought desperately as the light overtook him. No! This was his vision! This was—! Slowly, he watched it begin to fall. Limp. Lifeless. No, he thought to himself. No! This couldn't be happening!
How? HOW could it be happening?! He had seen everything—planned it! This was not supposed to—this couldn't—! They were supposed to be together forever! All three of them! How could a benevolent creator allow this to happen?! How could he!? How could he have failed so miserably!? How could he not have seen—not have known—?!
Yue Reed's scream echoed even over the thunder…
And the word he was screaming was:
"CERBERUS!"
AN: This update was something I just thought of at the last minute as a sort of apology to my fans and a promise that I'm not dead. I was so eager after I wrote chapter 19 that I hurried into chapter 20 right away with rather significant zeal. But when chapter 19 didn't get great reviews… I think part of me just died a little. And when school stuff overwhelmed me last semester too… I lost all will to write and this chapter stopped cold. It's taken many months, but I've managed to drum up the inspiration to write again—a large part of it thanks to the return of an old friend and my new beta reader, Tifa Strifeheart. Now chapter 20 is underway, but I felt like I had to give you guys something in the meantime while I work on the second half.
As I said, this chapter had two introductions. I toyed with both lead-ins, not wanting to discard either one, but they simply were both too stand-alone to go together, and were making the chapter too long to boot. So, I decided that this one could be a stand-alone (although it was written in as scene 2 in my most recent draft). In fact, it almost works better that way, because now it follows the action of ch 19 immediately with all the psychotic glory. :3 (and also resolves its cliff hanger nicely. XP)
I'm not going to lie: a big reason for my posting this now was that I saw, in my time away, a writer whom I enjoy very much didn't post nearly as prolifically as I had expected. When I finally started reading through all her chapters I'd missed, I saw her AN that said she had been sad to find that none of the authors she usually read had been posting. I'm not so full of myself to assume that I make that list, but all the same, I wanted to post something to prove to her that we're all not dead out here, and some of us will be making comebacks soon! Hopefully I can explain myself to that one particular author in a proper review to her own fic tonight. This one's for you, Lady Dae. :)
Explanatory notes:
"The best of all possible worlds"—the key statement in the theory of Optimism promoted by baroque philosopher, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz—and later parodied famously by philosophe, Voltaire. The theory was that if God was all powerful, then anything he allowed to happen must be intended to happen or, for the good of the world, could happen no other way. Taken to the logical extreme by Voltaire who pointed out that if this world was the 'best of all possible' ones, a lot of bad things sure did seem to happen. In this case Clow does the same: if this is the best of all possible worlds, then nothing bad can happen, right?
"the alpha and the omega"— an Greek term for God. Alpha was the first letter of the alphabet, and omega the last. Thus it means to say that God is all. In this case, it's a play since Clow is talking about lunar deities and this was usually applied to the Abrahamic god.
Oberon and the fairies—a reference to Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. The plot of the play involved Oberon, king of the fairies, trying to publically embarrass his wife by making her fall in love with an embarrassing figure. He did this to deflate her ego and get himself a bit more dominance as ruler, and intended to carry it out with the dew of a magic flower that, when applied to a sleeping person's eyelids, made them fall in love with the first person they saw. A second drop would break the spell.