Fate Guides My Steps
Chapter 21: Caring for Morning
Author: BrokenPoetry
Editor: FireGoddess
This one is for the readers.
Basick Valley, Northern Drume Mountains
4th of the 4th Moon Month
The candles were puddles of wax by the time he woke. The light had dimmed gradually as each of the melted candles went out. When Syaoran managed to open his eyes enough to take in his surroundings, there were only three left burning. But it was enough for him to notice a handful of things before he slipped back into unconsciousness. First, it was night. A waning moon shone in the window near his pallet; hanging slightly lopsided as always, a silent testament to how insignificant the daily struggles of humans were. Syaoran managed to shake that very melancholy thought in enough time to note the scattered piles of plants, mixing bowls, mortar and pestles, and various liquids in cloudy glass bottles. That of course, made him remember the poisoned arrow he'd been struck with. Which lead his thoughts immediately to what was happening now. Was everyone back behind the Gate? How many died? Did the women, Melin and Ritan get back alright? What was Eriol doing to prepare against another attack?
He tried to move, but found that his body, magic and all around physical presence was quite simply too damn tired to do a damn thing. But in trying to move, he managed to focus on one final thing. Sakura, asleep, lying half in his bed with him, half out. Her head rested on her crossed arms, which were lying on top of the blankets near his hips. Her body was laying half on its side, curled just a bit so that her upper torso was resting on his pallet, while her legs lay amongst the piles of apothecary tools. Her cloak was draped about her shoulders, and she was snoring quietly.
Syaoran tried to move again, thinking that he would draw some of his blankets around her to keep her from getting to cold. But before he could even twitch, exhaustion settled again, and he was pulled back down into the soft recesses of sleep.
Northern Drume Mountains
4th of the 4th Moon Month
When Touya woke up his mind couldn't get past the unbelievable headache he was suffering from. So it was a few minutes before he began to process little details like the fact he was laid out in a cart that was bumping rather badly down the narrow path through the mountains that they had traversed earlier. He was also able to garner from his surroundings that it was still night out; for that he was thankful, he couldn't even imagine what sunlight would do to his head right now.
Once the particulars of his surroundings were acknowledged, his memory decided to put forth its most immediate problems.
The biggest being the fact that his memory was back.
There were bits and pieces that were still fuzzy; gaps in which months of his childhood had disappeared. But that worry paled in comparison to the realization of exactly what had been going on these past five years.
A kind of anger, hot, fierce, and absolutely vicious welled up in him; at such an incredible volume some dim part of his mind wondered that he didn't burn up from it. His hands curled into tight fists as he thought of the many, many, many ways to kill someone slowly. Strength born from that anger forced him to sit up in the cart and forced his tired, aching body forward to hop out of the cart. In the few seconds it took he had already cobbled together a to-do list. The first point of order was defecting and going to find his sister in Basick Valley and make sure that she was safe. He was stopped not two steps from the cart by the sudden appearance of Yukito who gave him a frosty glare.
"Get back in that cart, Touya. Or so help me-"
"No time for that Yuki, I've got to get to Basick Valley."
"You've been unconscious for hours, Touya! You missed alot. We've been defeated, routed I'd say. The General is beside himself with anger."
"I'm not far behind myself," Touya muttered brushing past his friend to start back up the path; ignoring the looks that he got from the other soldiers that were wearily pushing in the opposite direction. Yuki followed him hotly.
"Are you insane?! I don't know what the Seer and her pet did to you or me, but it must have addled your brains!" Yuki grabbed Touya's shoulder and whirled him around so he could continue ranting to his face.
Touya looked around angrily at the other soldiers; before grabbing a handful of Yuki's robes and hauling him off the path and into the woods on the left side. Touya lead the way down the steep incline until it met with another incline to form a small rock filled valley. He checked the area carefully, and once assured that no one was within ear-shot he turned back to Yuki who waited somewhat impatiently.
"She's my sister," Touya said without preamble. Yuki grew still, knowing immediately who he was talking about without having to ask for clarification.
"Y-Your...sister?" Touya nodded, and then continued his voice growing steadily more heated.
"Yes, my sister. My sister. I almost...ugh! It gets worse; Asagawa was the one that attacked the village I was living in five years ago. He's the one that hit me on the head which caused me to loose my memories in the first place! He...he...ordered the destruction of that village; the death of my mother and he...he had the gall to tell me I was his family! They've used me! All of them!"
"Who?" Yuki asked weakly.
"The High Lord!" Touya all but screamed out, "Don't you see? My sister was held prisoner by the High Lord! She'd never, never help that...that tyrant. Unless...unless she felt she didn't have a choice. Unless the High Lord told her that she had to help him with his campaigns or he'd kill me. Don't you get it, Yuki!? I...I've been so...so blind!"
Touya stopped, his chest pumping like bellows, his face and neck flushed a deep red. Yukito knew that he had to approach his friend carefully; almost treating him as though he was a wild animal preparing to flee.
"Touya...I can't say that I fully understand the situation; but I can say that defecting right now won't help your sister or yourself."
"I cannot stay," Touya said sharply.
"I think you're going to have too. At least for now. If any of the officers catches us slipping away, I have no doubt they'll have us shot, that's what the mood is at the moment. And if we did manage to escape, where will we go? We would never make it to Basick Valley alive. There are bound to be scouts around and dressed as we are they'll shoot first and ask questions later," Yuki took a few steps forward and put both of his hands on Touya's shoulders making it so it was obvious if the Major was avoiding meeting Yuki's eyes.
It took a few moments before Touya managed to calm down enough to hold Yuki's solemn light blue gaze.
"I can't stay, Yuki. I just...can't. This is the same army that routed Arcadia. This is the same army that...that..."
"Stop thinking that way, Touya. Just...stop. We don't have a choice here. We are lost in the wilderness belonging to hostiles. We cannot stay here."
Touya began to shake again, the force and volume of his emotions threatening to undo him completely. Yuki could see this as clearly as the night skies above them.
"Touya, listen to me closely. You want to find your sister, make sure she's alright. I can grasp this. But getting yourself killed in the mountains doesn't do anything for her, in fact, judging from how she acted yesterday, I'd say it would come close to killing her. Think about that before you go charging off blindly into a situation that you've only just begun to understand. Your sister spent five years under the thumb of someone she hates just as much as you do right now in order to protect your life. So please, for the sake of her and me, don't be in a hurry to be cavalier with it. We need to get back to Scitrind. We need to regroup, heal, and plan. At the very least, we need supplies. We have to be smart about this, and careful. The High Lord and Asagawa aren't going to take our defection lying down."
Yuki's words were starting to reach his friend, Touya managed to take a few deep breaths and rid himself of the shakes. Then, something Yuki said registered in his mind.
"Wait...'we'? You-you're coming with me?"
Yuki rolled his eyes, grabbed Touya by the front of his uniform and began to haul him up the hill in the same manner that Touya hauled him down it.
"Of course I am, you idiot. I swore I'd follow you remember?"
"But that was back when-"
"When I had no idea who you were. Just because you've managed to figure that mystery out doesn't change the promise I made. I coming. You try to leave me behind, I'll track you down, and don't you forget it ever again," Yuki said firmly, finally rejoining the other soldiers that walked down the narrow mountain pass.
Touya managed to give him a weary smile.
"I wouldn't dare."
Basick Valley, Northern Drume Mountains
4th of the 4th Moon Month
Tomoyo awoke with a sudden start, realizing for the first time that she had been dozing while sitting up in the first place. She gave herself a little shake, and rolled her head about her shoulders trying to loosen the stiff muscles of her neck. She raised a hand and massaged her nape, grimacing at the matted and grimy nature of her hair and body. Tomoyo risked a glance at her charge, seeing that he was still sleeping; she raised her arm and gave the more...ripe areas of her body a sniff. She wrinkled her nose; a snicker drew her attention however, and Tomoyo raised her horrified eyes to Eriol's lucid navy blue ones.
The young woman turned a delicate shade of pink and quickly covered her embarrassment but embracing her worry over her charge.
"How are you?"
"Never mind me, how is everyone else?"
"Surviving. We've got pretty serious fatalities. But everyone who can remain on two feet is still back at the gate; making sure they don't try again just yet. And..." Tomoyo trailed off uncertainly for a moment before plowing forward in a rush, "Syaoran was poisoned, and Sakura tried to heal him magically in a panic and took herself out of commission for a few hours."
Eriol paled dramatically and he tried to sit up, Tomoyo placed a hand on his chest and quickly explained the rest, "It's alright, I think. Sakura managed to slow the poison down enough to give us enough time to throw together a cure. Or at least, some sort of neutralization mixed with a flushing agent. He's alive, just sleeping it all off. Sakura's with him. Her magical reserves are pretty low, just like yours; otherwise I suspect she'd be out pacing the battlements at the Iron Gate."
Eriol let out the breath he'd been holding in a quick whoosh and slumped back against the furs and blankets. The strength he's summoned from the intense worry for his friend left him and it dawned on him just how achy, sore and tired he really was.
"I think I pushed to hard on that last spell," Eriol said wincing, as his body reported to him all of its pains. Tomoyo gave him an aspirated look.
"You scared the daylights out of me," she said, and moved to rise so she could fetch him so food and drink. She was stopped however by his hand reaching out to grasp her thin, pale wrist. Tomoyo turned and looked at him, the obvious question in her eyes.
"I'm sorry for worrying you," he murmured, unable to look away. Tomoyo returned to sitting, and turned her wrist in his grasp so that she could hold his hand in hers. She placed her other on top of his and cradled it gently.
"You give so much of yourself, Eriol. And leave nothing to call your own. I admire you for such sacrifice, but at the same time, I wish it was unnecessary," she raised her hand and carefully brushed her lips across his knuckles. He moved his hand from her hands, and cupped her cheek in his palm, his fingers touching the black ink of her hair.
At his touch, Tomoyo became still, unwilling to break the moment that they had fallen into. There was such an amount of raw emotion, and overwhelming crush of feeling that it made it hard for her to breathe. Happiness, joy, passion, love, and a rush of unbearable fear like she'd never felt before. It was so much, so fast, that she felt as though her soul and body were coming apart at the seams. Like it was his touch alone, and the unwillingness to ruin this moment, that kept her from breaking into an unknowable number of pieces.
And...clarity. Tomoyo was awed by the sudden clarity she had. All the previous doubts, complications, and hesitations vanished under the scrutiny of his dark blue gaze. A gaze that reflected the same press of emotion that thrilled through her heart and body.
Tomoyo leaned forward, and Eriol pulled her closer. Her hair fell past her shoulders, shading them from the outside world in a rush of cool black silk.
"If I have so little left to give, why are you willing-?" His voice stopped when Tomoyo came to hover just a breath away from pressing her lips against his. She smiled at him, something he felt, more than saw.
"I'm a simple woman, my Prince. This is more than enough," she whispered. Eriol eyes softened, completely undone by her words, her presence, her scent, her...love. He drew on a well of strength born from the warmth of her, and pressed her lips against hers.
The swell of intimate touch and taste overwrought them both. Eriol moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, Tomoyo reacted to his guidance as he took control of the kiss; turning her head just a little. Tomoyo brought up her hands, one which slipped into his hair, the other lay flat against his heart, feeling its quickened pace. She smiled into the kiss, her lips parting of their own accord, allowing Eriol to deepen the kiss with a content sigh.
They parted a few moments later, out of breath and flushed.
"That was..." Eriol said, unable to finish the sentence.
Tomoyo fingered the line of his jaw affectionately, and finished it for him, "wonderful."
"I'll get you something to eat," she said, Eriol nodded and tried to rise.
"I should check on Syaoran," he said, Tomoyo pressed a hand against his chest again, giving him a stern look that was usually reserved for slacking servants.
"Syaoran is fine. Sakura is with him, I'll tell her you're up and if she needs help I'm sure she'll ask for it," Tomoyo remarked, standing and brushing her skirt off. Eriol raised an eyebrow at her.
"You know, we both lost our little bet," he remarked. Tomoyo chuckled.
"Who knew that they'd be that stubborn..."
Eriol snickered, and then regretted it as his ribs and chest protested.
Gunica, Hummai
5th of the 4th Moon Month
Izzy sat, perched on the top of the fort battlements overlooking the harbor. Debris from the Hummai ships had been washing up on the shores for the past day and a half. People were down on the beaches seeing what they could salvage from the wreckage if anything. More than a few times they came across a barely alive sailor, for whom they gave quarter in the brig. As far as they could tell, their attack had been successful; lookouts placed around the island reported that the only ship that survived had fled to one of the nearby islands to regroup with the rest of the fleet that was scattered around the southern coasts. Hopefully, the other rebel groups had managed to be as successful as them. This would mean that that one lone ship would find no help in any port.
The shuffling of feet behind her caught his attention. Izzy turned to see the familiar form of none other than the gravedigger who helped her in what seemed a life time ago in burying her husband.
FLASHBACK
The grave digger pushed the spade into the ground heaving a grass riddled clump of dirt out of the slowly growing hole. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at the woman who was sitting next to the body she'd brought to him to be buried in the small grave yard where he worked. He pulled his hat lower on his brow, shading his eyes from the bright red sinking sun, and returned to work.
A few shovelfuls later, he checked on the woman again. She sat perfectly still, gazing at the face of the deceased. It was clear to the grave digger that the man had been a prisoner. There were marks on his wrists and ankles from where manacles had rubbed the skin raw. But most importantly, the man's neck was broken, letting his head loll to the side in a sickening way before the woman had straightened it gently. She had brushed the man's setting sun red hair from his closed eyes, and let her fingers drift just a little on his dirty cheek. The grave digger shed his dark coat and unbuttoned his shirt, the humidity of the tropical islands getting to him. He draped both over another of his shovels he'd stuck in the dirt. Then he shoved his spade in the dirt, pushing down hard with the heel of his boot. This wasn't usual tradition for burial. Generally there was a service, a procession, and a group of mourners that walked to the grave site to watch the body lowered into its final resting place. Usually, a puffy, and red eyed woman didn't knock on his door, and hand him a gold coin to dig her a grave for the body that lay draped over the back of her horse. Usually, a plot was picked out, a marker paid for. Usually, he could be fired for burying someone in an unmarked space, in an area that people paid a lot of money for to be their last resting place. Usually he was immune to the tears of the distraught, of the despondent. But not this time. All it had taken was one look from this woman. One heartbroken, soul torn look from her empty eyes to agree. She really didn't even have to pay him. He'd have done it anyway. They laid him to rest together. There weren't any words said. No poetic eulogy, no marker to pay testament to where he lay. Just one person silently saying her goodbyes, and one other, silently supporting a stranger. They patted down the disturbed earth. And she helped him carry his tools and his clothes back to his house at the edge of the grave yard. She untied the reins of her horse, thanking him quietly, and then turned to leave. "I have no idea who he was," the grave digger said suddenly, making her turn to look at him with her empty eyes, "but he must have been a good man to earn the affections of a woman like you." She tilted her head to the side. "You don't even know me." He gave her a slow smile, pushing his dark hair from his clear green eyes with a dirty hand. "Don't have too. You're here. You cared." "I loved." The grave digger looked back the way they had come. "Love. You love." He corrected quietly. She looked at his lanky form for a few more heartbeats, nodded her acceptance and then walked away, leading her horse.
END FLASHBACK
"Amos said I'd find you here," he said by way of introductions.
Izzy gave him a weak smile, "Did he need something?"
"Yes, he wanted to speak to you about your husbands connections on the mainland. He was hoping to send a message to one of them, alerting them of our status," the young man explained. Izzy nodded, and returned her gaze to the horizon, where a bright orange sun was sinking into the glittering sea.
"The sun sets on Hummai's empire," Izzy said bitterly, as she rose and jumped down from the battlements. The gravedigger reached out and steadied her when she stumbled.
"That it does," he said quietly, "but the truly important question is who does the sun now rise on?"
Izzy opened her mouth to answer, but found no answer forthcoming.
Trinsdell, Vasan
5th of the 4th Moon Month
"We've managed to hold off against the first attack, but don't let this small success go to your heads," the ex-king of Vasan lectured sternly, waving a hand over the map of Vasan's southern boarders lying on a large round table in what was once the King's war room. Trinsdell was not that far from the boarders, news had reached them late the night before of Vasan's initial success at holding the boarder lines. The army that had been created to overthrow the monarch had been diverted to protect their home country against invasion.
"What's next then?" Summers turned to look at Lord Bomar who was intently studying the map, "You're not planning on doing any conquering yourself are you?"
The young Lord straightened and looked over at Summers and Ivy who were working on transport papers to send provisions of food and other supplies to the front lines.
"No, no conquering. If we can manage to protect our boarders with minimal losses the new...what are we calling them again? Parliament? Republic? House of the Voting Public?"
The ex-king managed not to roll his eyes, as he played with a different defense idea he was thinking of bring up with the army generals.
"What did Landon call it?" Ivy asked.
"A Diet, I think," Summers answered.
"Diet then, if we can get by with our land intact and minimal losses the Diet will be ecstatic. Votes came back to keep the current generals and political hierarchy the same until this threat is dealt with. Or until we're overrun, then I imagine it'll matter little," Bomar said cynically as he tried to focus on the map before him and the old king.
"There's no need for that, Lord Bomar, you and your fellows have made it this far with no blood shed."
"Because you stepped down and ordered those loyal to you to join the rebel army to stand against the Hummai invasion," Bomar pointed out.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were spoiling for a fight," Ivy said with a small smile.
Bomar turned to face her, "And if I was?"
"I'd say you got more than you bargained for," the king interjected quickly, "now focus on the matter at hand please; our defenses along the old Arcadia forests need to be strengthened."
"The mines? Why?"
"Because those are valuable resources. They may not be producing much, but any at all is well worth the effort, especially now. That iron will be needed for the blacksmiths. Also, you need to convince the northern representatives to encourage their farmers to part with their winter surpluses. Armies do not march on empty stomachs."
Bomar was nodding absently and making extensive notes on sheafs of parchment. Ivy and Summers watched from their corner behind the King's huge desk with amused smiles. Seeing the old monarch directing and advising the fledgling democracy was something they found rather funny. Ivy declared it had something to do with irony. Summers didn't bother trying to figure it out, he just enjoyed the distraction from the tedious task he and Ivy had been given. Despite the seemingly seamless transfer of power, there were plenty of kinks to work out. The king's small army of scribes, accountants, and advisors had flown into a panic when word reached them of the successful coup. Many of them fled the capital fearing the worse, leaving behind plenty to do and no one to do it. Ivy and Summers had been delegated the task of sorting that out.
The two had worked tirelessly for the past two days trying to keep the rest of the country running while Bomar, the new Diet, and the old king focused on protecting it. So far they were having limited success. Ivy had recruited many of her friends in the servant quarters that had good minds for numbers and the like, while Summers tracked down his fellow councilors and other advisors and dragged them back to the castle to help.
No one knew how the dust would settle when this ordeal was over.
But they knew getting there would most certainly be interesting.
Basick Valley, Northern Drume Mountains
6th of the 4th Moon Month
It had taken a great deal of trial and error, but Sakura managed to find something that helped Syaoran's body battle the deadly poison from the Hummai arrowhead. It wasn't a perfect antidote, so he unconsciously drew strength across their now anything but dormant bond. Sakura remained by his side, unwilling to test the limits of their connection, and still experimenting with Eriol's herb stores looking for some kind of cure to the Hummai poison. They had lost many of their fighters to the blasted arrowheads; Sakura's semi-antidote was only helping little over half. Frustrated and worried, Sakura remained in Syaoran's room, only sleeping when the drain on her magic and body became too much for her to physically stand.
Three long days had passed already, the rebels were all worried that the Northern Army would return before they had a chance to recuperate and repair their defenses. The first battle had wrought heavy damages on both sides, but Basick Valley knew that they had lost their biggest advantage: Catrine's underestimation of them. The Northern Army General may be an arrogant bastard, but he learned well from his mistakes. The next time he attacked, he would make damn sure to secure a victory. And with Hummai's superior numbers they couldn't hope to achieve another victory like the last one. The most they could hope for was to hold the Hummai forces off at the Iron Gate. But even that wouldn't last long. Soon the spring floods would recede with summer, and open up new, smaller passes into the Valley. They wouldn't be open for long, but enough to stretch Basick Valley's human resources to the breaking point.
Sakura let out an irritated huff and angrily threw down the pestle she'd been using. Eriol had been in and out of the room several times to help her brainstorm new antidotes for the poison, but neither had had much luck. And Eriol had many other things he had to attend too. During his time unconscious, the wards he'd built around the valley over the years had deteriorated. Fearing an attack on the magical level, he'd been rushing around re-strengthening them. Much to Sakura's amusement, Tomoyo had been following him around on those trips, ensuring that he rested enough to stay ahead of magical and physical exhaustion. Melin had been in to see her cousin several times, lending her own skills in medicine to help Sakura's quest. The downstairs of the house had been turned into something of a field hospital. In the past few days, most of the patients had either left cured, or sadly died. The remaining ill were also, like Syaoran, battling for dominance over the poison in their blood.
The Seer rubbed at her tired eyes and ran a hand through her hair idly, realizing for the first time in three days that she was probably an unsightly mess. She dimly recalled Tomoyo trying to convince her to take a bath, or at the very least wash the mud and dirt from her hair. Suddenly, that sounded unbelievably tempting to Sakura. She glanced around herself, taking in the mess of apothecary supplies, the abandoned containers, plates, bowls, and cups. She, in three days, had turned Syaoran's rather bare and neat room into complete chaos. When he woke up, he'd probably kill her on principal. Sakura managed a weak smile at that.
A couple of hours later, Sakura felt restored. She'd first cleaned out Syaoran's room, taking down the dirty dishes, and washing them herself. She'd reorganized the chaotic herbal supplies, returning them to their respective jars and bottles. She also collected the papers she'd recorded everything down on and put them in order of tries, keeping her most successful attempts near the top for quick reference. She had taken a quick bath downstairs in the kitchen while the busy women put up a small screen for privacy, something Sakura was very grateful for, especially since people were traipsing in and out of the house with supplies, food, and messages to leave for Eriol. They also came for the latest news, the two story house being a kind of epicenter of everything going on in the village. Clean, fed, and a bit more relaxed, Sakura felt her mind clearing. She could now identify Syaoran's state through their connection; she felt clearly now that the rebel leader was still very weak, but the poison and the sickness it brought with it were steadily receding in the face of Sakura's antidote, their combined magic, and Syaoran's own stubbornness. That, not surprisingly, lifted a huge weight from Sakura's thin shoulders.
Syaoran would be fine.
Not for the first time, Sakura made rounds downstairs amongst the other poor souls that battled the poison. She helped the nurses for a while, strengthening their patients' bodies with as much of her magic that she could spare; which after three days of constant taxing, wasn't much. As she wearily made her way back upstairs, she hoped it would be enough. The nurses certainly seemed optimistic.
If there was one thing that Sakura had noticed outside of her apothecary pursuits over the past three days, it was the change in the villagers' attitude towards her. It seemed that stories of her actions on the battlefield, her relentless search for a poison antidote, and her caring for their leader had earned her the respect of many of the villagers. They were no longer sending her harsh glances, or discussing her with vicious whispers. Somehow she had attained similar status as Eriol, Syaoran, and Tomoyo. In Syaoran's absence, many rebels sought her advice on defense structures or possible attacks that might be launched against them. Sakura, despite her fatigue and worry, had managed to do two readings for Eriol and Ritan (who had taken over defenses at the Iron Gate). She assured them that they had time to breathe, that she couldn't see the Northern Army attacking yet. That was yesterday she thought tiredly; she decided after she got some sleep she should probably do another reading. Decisions could always be made suddenly that would bring new insights to the future.
She took her usual seat next to Syaoran's pallet, and pulled her cloak over her lap. She stifled a yawn with her hand, and then went about working some of the tangles from her damp hair with her fingers. She was glad she'd kept it short; it certainly made it easier to take care of. It wasn't until she was almost done that she felt a ripple in her and Syaoran's connection. Turning she looked over at her friend just in time to see his amber eyes slowly open and take in the room around him.
"Water," he croaked out softly. Sakura stood instantly, reached for the nearest cup and grabbed the pitcher of water she'd just refreshed while cleaning. She poured a small amount then helped him drink it, holding the cup to his lips and tipping it slowly allowing him to take it at his own pace.
"What happened?" he asked immediately following, his voice working much better.
"The Northern Army withdrew. Ritan's holding the defenses at the Iron Gate. Eriol, after he recovered, is running around like a mad man repairing all his wards. Melin is working with the militia men and repairing, salvaging, and all around making weapons, armor, shields, and the like. I've been here with you, and trying to come up with an antidote to the poison on the arrowheads," she explained. Syaoran was quiet for a long moment, turning over what he just learned in his somewhat still fuzzy mind.
"I take it from my current state, you found an antidote?"
"Sort of. It's a start, but it isn't perfect. I can't completely neutralize the poison, but I can give the body a better chance of defeating it. The poison itself seems to induce a severe sickness. Depending on exposure this can mean a quick or lingering death. Most who were hit with the arrows died quickly, but there were some who were only grazed, or who had magical talent enough to sustain them while their bodies tried to fight the poison off. That's when this...sickness set in."
Syaoran certainly felt sick. His body felt weak, achy, and uncomfortable. There was a sort of pulsing sore point on his back, from what he assumed was the actual wound the arrow had caused. He deduced it had to be the sight of the infection, or sickness and was consequently tender.
"How many dead?"
"A third of our forces," Sakura dutifully reported, watching as Syaoran's face fell. He closed his eyes as if in pain, and let out a weary sigh.
"Wounded?"
"Not many actually. The women all escaped without a scratch, save Morgan. She caught one of the longbow man's arrows. The men were all wounded superficially for the most part, save maybe a dozen. The poison victims are downstairs, everyone else Melin's put up. They like that, easy access to ale, I think," Sakura said.
Syaoran snorted at that, rolling his eyes. "What about another attack?"
"I've done two readings; it seems that Catrine is retreating all the way back to Scitrind. There's no plan for another attack yet, I think he's waiting for word from the High Lord on how the other campaigns are doing. Catrine for all his arrogance doesn't ever do anything with out the High Lord's approval first. This is a good thing for us, because as the hawk flies it's still three days to Velaterra, and three days back. We won't have to worry about another attack for another six or seven days," Sakura explained. Syaoran nodded his agreement, looking up at the ceiling, thinking intently about what else could be done in that small period of time.
"We won't be able to take them by surprise like that again," he said.
"No, defiantly not. Me and Eriol went over some of the maps. There's a good possibility for either one of two plans. One, Catrine comes at us with everything he's got, right at the Iron Gate. That kind of brute force attack is more his style. But Eriol says that we can't disregard the idea that he'll wait a few more weeks and try attacking through the smaller passes."
"That's a risk; those passes are dangerous, even in the height of summer. Too many men, supplies, and horses, and it's likely that the passes will collapse into avalanches."
"True," Sakura acknowledge, "But if he attacks that way, he'd force us to stretch out our human resources in ways that we just can't possibly handle."
"You think he knows that?"
Sakura shrugged, "He got a good look at our numbers during that battle, Syaoran. I think he can make some safe estimations from that."
"Most likely...," Syaoran allowed, trying to get his still sickness muddled mind to work properly. Sakura who seemed to realize what he was doing instantly changed the subject.
"But Eriol and Ritan are doing what they can. You need your rest, Syaoran."
"I'm fine," he replied shortly. He started trying out his limbs, seeing what worked, and what would move. Sakura rose onto her knees and leaned over him, catching his eyes.
"You're sick. Stop trying to rush the process and you'll get better when you get better. You won't be any help to anyone if you collapse outside in the sleet," she said fiercely. Syaoran was tense for a few moments, then relaxed under her look. Sakura folded her legs under her, and refilled Syaoran's cup with more water. The rebel leader was quiet, accepting the help from her with no problems, something that surprised Sakura. He turned his amber eyes on her, staring intently, making her fidget.
"Something's different," he said suddenly. Sakura averted her eyes guiltily.
"It's our connection, with all the magic I've been passing to you...I think it's gotten stronger," she said carefully, afraid of his reaction.
"I can feel you," he said a bit of real surprise coloring his voice. And he could. Clearly, certainly, and easily. He could feel her worry and concern for him. He could feel her bone deep fatigue from the past few days. He could feel her depleted magic, her determination for what was left to be enough to help him. He tried to withdraw, to stop the flow, only to find that he couldn't.
"Sorry, not gonna happen, Syaoran," she said, feeling what he was attempting, "you're too weak to do any different, so just accept it."
"You need what's left," he almost accused.
"I'm not sick."
"You keep going like this, and you will be."
"I'm not as important as you, so that is a more than fair trade in my mind."
"Sakura..."
"No, Syaoran," she replied, locking eyes with him, and holding steadfastly to her will. When he continued to fight her, trying to push against the connection, block it somehow, Sakura reached out and took one of his hands in her own. "Let me help you...please," she pleaded, knowing that if he continued to fight her, he'd only weaken himself further. He didn't reply, only kept fighting against her magic. "Damn it Syaoran! I'll put you to sleep if I have to!" She bit out, leaning forward determinedly, calling up the necessary spell in her mind. That brought him up short, making it easy for Sakura to overwhelm his weak block, letting more of her magic slip across the bond in the easy flow that had been running for three days now.
The rebel warrior finally grumbled under his breath and settled back down against the pallet, relaxing. Sakura let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. After making sure he was really acquiescing, Sakura took her cloak and spread it out next to Syaoran's pallet and stretched out her legs. Syaoran turned his head to look at her, watching her as she made what he assumed was a make shift bed.
"What are you doing? Where are the other blankets?"
"Downstairs or with Melin. There are any spare beddings, I've just been sleeping on my cloak," she said simply, laying down and curling up a bit for warmth.
Syaoran rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, as if praying for patience against endless frustration with the slim brunette next to him. Which is pretty much what he was doing, along with asking for any spare strength whatever deity currently lurked above the clouds had.
"Come over here, there's room for you," Syaoran said, trying not to let his embarrassment get to him. He knew that she needed real sleep, he could feel it. She wouldn't get any decent amount laying on the cold hard floor with nothing but her cloak for protection. Sakura looked up, her cheeks pinking up a little. After a moments pause, Sakura slid her body across the small space dividing them, and up onto the furs piled around Syaoran. Tentatively she rested on the very edge, still leaving plenty of space between them. She was on her side, facing him, her arms folded tightly against her chest. Syaoran huffed in annoyance. He weakly pulled his arm free of the think blankets, reached out and slid his arm under her head, then down her back to tug her forward. It was only because she was a slip of a woman that made it possible for Syaoran to move her in his weakened state. But Sakura got the message and came closer under her own power, and Syaoran left his arm outstretched, letting her rest her head there. She reached behind her, snagged her cloak and pulled it over herself.
They both rested tensely there for a while. But exhaustion was a stern mistress, and pulled on them both equally. The desire for rest eventually relaxed them, and brought them to seek more comfort. Syaoran bent his arm and rested his hand on Sakura's waist covered by the cloak. Sakura moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder, one of her arms remained curled between them, while the other draped across his chest. Their eyes fell shut; Syaoran's nose filled with scent of her hair and felt himself relax into a state of hazy comfort. Sakura basked in the feeling of safety and warmth unlike anything she'd ever felt. Their breathing evened out, and they both dropped easily into a peaceful sleep.
Velaterra, Hummai
6th of the 4th Moon Month
No one wanted to go anywhere near the throne room. Not since reports had begun to trickle in that morning. There was a haze of absolute...something. It chilled the blood and made it hard to breathe. His very presence seemed to scream fury, except for the usually relaxed pose on his throne, and the fridged atmosphere that clung to the High Lord like his dark cloak.
His subordinates' eyes told them that there was nothing wrong, but their guts and intuitions told them to avoid attracting any kind of attention. Silence descended on the palace, servants were cautious, soldiers were wary and meek. They didn't have to read any of the reports to know that the High Lord's campaigns were not going well. Rumors were circulating in whispered hushes.
The Rebels in the north were holding out.
The rebellions in the south were standing strong.
Vasan had somehow met the Hummai Western Army blow for blow.
The High Lord's Seer was no longer at his right hand.
One of the High Lord's personal guards, positioned outside the throne room like a statue jumped near out of his skin at the resounding screech that came from the room behind him. The young, stoic man immediately leapt into action ripping the heavy obsidian doors open and entering the room with his sword drawn. What he saw stunned him.
The High Lord stood on his dais, completely unruffled, facing his gilded throne. His sword however, the wicked weapon that was always sheathed at his side, was, for the first time in recent memory unsheathed. It looked like the High Lord had drawn his blade and struck his throne, his blade slicing into the stone and gold almost down to the seat. The High Lord turned casually at the sound of his guard's entrance. The moment those empty blue eyes fixed on him, the guard felt his doom settle across his shoulders. There wasn't time for more than a flash of regret, but before the guard could understand what the regret was for, there was another screech and the High Lord's blade was buried in his chest up to the hilt.
The guard crumpled to the floor.
The High Lord returned to his now flawed throne, and called for a scribe.
Basick Valley, Northern Drume Mountains
6th of the 4th Moon Month
She was back on that cliff by the sea. And she wasn't alone.
"What in the world?"
Sakura whirled around, and was taken aback by the sight of Syaoran Li standing in the middle of her vision.
"Syaoran? What are you doing here?"
"Where is here?" He asked, gesturing around to the windswept cliff face, leaning over the edge to take a look at the unruly sea below.
"This..." Sakura paused, uncertain if she should tell him, but when he turned to face her, she knew she wouldn't be able to lie. "Syaoran, this is a vision."
He looked around skeptically, "It doesn't look like much. Maybe I'm just dreaming."
Sakura laughed a little, "I suppose it's possible. But this- Syaoran?"
The rebel warrior had stopped moving, he stood rock still as if frozen in time. Sakura took several steps towards him.
"Syaoran? Syaoran?!"
Calm yourself, child. He merely is aside for a moment.
Sakura looked around wildly, "Why is he here in the first place?"
You two have shared dreams before.
"This is another vision! It's different from a dream!"
What of the joint 'dreams' you two shared while he held your wand? Is this so different from that?
Sakura had to conceded the point, it really wasn't that different. But the fact remained that in this vision, there was something wrong, he wasn't participating, he was 'aside', whatever that meant. "Why is he 'aside' then?"
Because this...is for you only.
And suddenly, the world bent.
She was back in a hauntingly familiar room, white marble and a gilded throne, which had been damaged since she last saw it. And a man she wished to never see again sat reclined in it, as if nothing was different.
"Take this down, scribe. 'To Catrine, if what your reports say is true, and my Seer is indeed fighting along side the rebels of Basick Valley, I want her returned to me. Immediately. You are to use whatever force that is necessary to retrieve her and return her here to Velaterra. You have two weeks. Succeed and the lands we attain from Vasan are yours. Fail, and you best take your own sorry life because otherwise I will ensure that your days are both painful and numbered.' Now send that with the fastest messenger hawk to Scitrind. Get out."
The scribe scuttled backwards clutching his writing tablet and quill to him. He bumped into the body of one of the High Lord's guards, a large pool of blood circling his prone form. The red of the blood seemed to stand out more than usual to Sakura, like it was highlighted somehow.
The world shifted, a new sight greeted her eyes.
It was the village in Basick Valley, her home for the past half year.
And it was burning.
Blood stood out again, exaggerated somehow. It was splattered across everything. The ground, the burning buildings, the trees, the hedges, everything. Bodies lay in discarded piles; there had been no mercy, not for the women, or the little children that were so rare in the rebel town. Tears sprang into Sakura's eyes, as she looked around at the carnage in horror.
But the worst, the absolute worst, the sight that would follow Sakura all the days of her life, was found when she turned to face the only two story building in the town. The Hummai soldiers had placed pikes outside the building, which was just starting to catch fire from one of its neighbors. Atop each of the three pikes was a head, bearing a much loved countenance.
Tomoyo...
Eriol...
And, Syaoran.
Cuts and bruises, blood and dirt marred their faces; their eyes stared out glassy and unseeing at the terror and chaos that they tried so hard to divert. A scream startled Sakura into turning again, this time to face the way out of the village.
She saw herself.
Sitting on the ground, staring and screaming at the sight that before them both. Catrine came up behind the broken girl on the ground and hauled her up by her waist. He slapped her with the back of his hand, hard enough to crack bone, but she continued to scream heart wrenching sobs and cries; reflecting truly how Sakura felt in that moment seeing the people she loved dearly nothing but war trophies. Finally Catrine used his armor covered arm to hit her with, knocking her out cold so that her limp form collapsed on the ground. Catrine callously hauled her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
A group of soldiers approached Catrine then, two men carried between the four of them.
"What should we do with them, General?"
Catrine looked down disdainfully on the two beaten and bloodied men in the soldiers' keeping.
"Leave them to burn like the traitors they are," he said scornfully, walking away to vanish in the smoke and ash. The four soldiers dragged their burdens past Sakura, not at all affected when she let out a cry of shock.
It was Touya, and the mage that followed him everywhere.
The soldiers tied the two up, carried them inside the first floor of the main house where the fire hadn't spread to yet and left them there.
Sakura wasn't sure when she started screaming herself.
The world changed...
Sakura was on the ground on that cliff face, lying on her back staring up at Syaoran's still form. Her breaths came out in broken pants and harsh keening sobs.
I am so sorry my child. But you had to see. I had to show you.
"Why?" Sakura choked out, "Why?"
I cannot answer that for you.
"I can't let them die!" She cried, rolling over and then pushing herself up into a sitting position at Syaoran's feet. She looked up at him; he was still frozen in that moment, an expression of amusement and confusion on his face. His hands were held out, caught mid gesture, even his hair had stopped, blown across his face on a wind that no longer touched him. Sakura rose unsteadily to her feet, and faced Syaoran's still form. She touched his face, surprised to find him warm.
Time returned.
Syaoran's eyes widened in surprise, because to him, Sakura had crossed a gap of several feet in a blink of an eye. He raised a hand to the one that cupped his cheek, startled by how cold it was.
"Sakura?" He asked.
"I can't let you die," she whispered. Syaoran's brow furrowed, all traces of previous amusement falling away. He reached out and pulled her to him, trying to comfort her in her obvious and heartfelt distress.
"I'm not going to die, Sakura," he said softly into her hair. She fit rather nicely in his arms, her nose pressed against his collarbone meaning he could comfortably rest his chin on the top of her head. Sakura melted against him, giving in to something that she hadn't even realized she wanted so desperately. To be cherished and protected by him. To be loved. She shook with the force of it, trembling in his arms as she fought against the horrors of her vision.
They held each other, anchoring each other. Sakura drew back just enough so she could look up at him. His amber eyes were clear with compassion and concern, and something else, something she couldn't identify. The wind pulled at their hair and clothing, whipping their warmth from their skin. The roar of the ocean was drowned out by the rushing of the blood in their veins. Sakura rose up on her toes and Syaoran held her tighter to support her. She moved one of her arms from around his waist to his neck. Each pulled the other closer until their lips met.
Lightening split the sky overhead, and neither paid any heed. They only crushed closer. Syaoran reached up and tilted her head to the side just a bit, he parted his lips encouraging her to do the same. Sakura gave a little sound of content, something that sent a rush of warmth through Syaoran. Sakura parted her lips, and tangled her fingers in the hair at Syaoran's nape. They couldn't get close enough.
They broke apart long enough to take gasping breaths, before they fell back together, echoing the motions of the waves and shore. They were loosing themselves in what they could be together. It was a wonderful feeling; something neither had ever hoped could exist for them. But it was frightening. It was slipping off the cliff face and into a free fall. And they both loved every second of it.
Then...the world warped.
The village was burning around them. Except this time it was in the height of the attack. Syaoran broke off the kiss and crushed Sakura close to protect her, his eyes widening at the sight around him. Sakura recognized what was happening and cried into his chest. The screams of the villagers as they were cut down by the mounted Calvary that raced through the village, cut through the pair as surely as the Hummai swords.
You know what you must do, child
The world shattered.
Sakura awoke with a gasp; biting back a horrified scream. She turned to look at Syaoran, who lay tossing in his sleep. Sakura knew that she couldn't have he wake up now. Not now. He'd know. All he had to do was look at her, and he'd know. Sakura struggled to calm herself, reaching for the stillness that she'd used to face the High Lord of Hummai. And though her handle on her turbulent emotions was tentative it was enough for her to send soothing magic across their connection and through her hands which she rested on his forehead and his chest. Syaoran calmed down slowly, stilled and finally relaxed into deep sleep.
Sakura climbed out of his pallet, tucking his arm back under the furs. Then she slid across the room until her back hit the wall. She pulled her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. Leaning her forehead against her knees, she struggled to hold in her tears. Sakura touched her lips with her fingers, the salt of her tears burning the spot on her lip where she'd bit it to keep back her cries.
That, despite taking place in dreams, had been real for her. And worth all the suffering of her life.
The Seer traced the lines of Syaoran's face with her eyes, taking comfort from his presence that she could feel with her magic. Something in her hardened. And from her feelings for him, she pulled determination and courage.
That moment in her vision had been worth all the suffering of her past. And she knew, beyond faith, hope and belief, she knew that his life would be well worth all the suffering of her future.
A/N: I do not own any of the canon characters used in this piece, nor do I stake any claim on them with the publishing of this work. (thus aptly named fanfiction)
Big Thank you to FireGoddess, as always, for her editing wonders. However, the latter half of this chapter is my shodding work I'm afraid. I wanted to get this posted today for reasons I'll mention below.
Hello all! Happy New Year and all that lovely jazz! Year of the Rat this year (I think...)! Yes, I've been MIA for quite a while now, and I apoligize for it. Life just gets busy, you know how it goes. The really big pain in the arse right now is my laptop, which, once again, has decided that its had enough with life and working for me. It went and dumped its physical memory and now lacks an operating system. I swear, it's impossible to find good help these days... Bright side? Because of last years absolute fiasco, I've been saving all my work on online servers, so I didn't loose a blessed thing, not even my bookmarks! Down side? no laptop no internet. I've been bumming off my roommates for the past four days now, but I can tell they're getting annoyed. Hence my rush to post this now, and not make you guys wait 'till the end of the week. So...yea. Cheers.
In other news: I post upcoming chapter content on my livejournal account. as well as stuff that didn't make it into previous chapters because I thought of it too late. (grins sheepishly) Thanks to the people who've visited and reviewed!
To answer a question posed to me by CowKeeper: Sakura isn't Yue's mistress. Touya is his master. Yue pledged to follow and obey Touya back in part...two, I think. Gotta love AU.
21 chapters down, 5 chapters to go!
Chapter 22: Consequences of Guilt (the depressing chapter, in which Sakura does something noble, nessesary and heartbreaking.)
P.S. (checks review count and breaks into tears) you guys make my day you know that? (sniff)