Well, hello! And Welcome to My Little World of Weirdness!
I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; it's all CLAMP's! Always has been, always will be! I *DO*, however, own Marcibay Hilligans and Hei-ying Reed!! I also own Mystrasa Kyree, and the dragon isn't mine, it's on loan from my good friend, the Blue Goo! And what the heck . . . I own the mansion as well! [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!
"Speaking"
*Stress/emphasis*
//Thinking//
In This Tainted Soul. . .
By Dr Megalomania.
Part Seven: Hei-ying
[Ho-boy. . . there's some cussin' in here. . . fair warning! And I don't want anyone's momma beating me up 'cause you start cussin' too. . .]
"Steady, lassies . . . There's a good bale o' hay for thee waitin' at 'ome."
Hilligans rubbed his eyes; it was late as he was pulling up to the first gates of the Reed mansion. He bit back a yawn as he pulled the reins up slightly. He had always found that the horses had an easier time of it if they went through the barrier slowly. He rubbed his eyes again; he was tired, very tired. However the day had proved productive, Hilligans' eyes slid down to his brand new saw. Clow had offered to make him on but . . .
A sudden wave of nausea hit Marcibay; the taste of brackish water suddenly filled his mouth. He spluttered, and one hand slipped off the reins, and went to his throat. He was aware that there was nothing in his mouth, nothing that would make him feel like gasping for air, but he was also aware that he was drowning in someway. He began to panic, as his lungs struggled, almost bursting as they tried to fight for freely available air.
The horses started to neigh quietly as they sensed their coach driver's alarm. Marcibay tried to calm himself as the vision continued violently, he could see the horses, see the lights of Reed mansion, but he could also see the murky depths of water. He looked up; above him was the surface of the water, around him was strong vines dragging him further from the water. A figure was above the water, but Marcibay couldn't make it out, it was just watching him, just watching him dro—Hilligans turned around, he was in Clow's bedroom, but it was empty . . . and full at the same time, voices, whispers, yells echoed around the room. Hilligans felt as if he had been taken out of the frame of time and was now just experiencing impressions from the future, the past or maybe the present, Clow's voice: "I command thee . . . in this form I have chosen . . . Love me, crave me, and no one else . . . been away so long because we have a new addition to our family . . . No! No! NO! NO! NOOOO! "
Voices of people he'd never heard before, a sharp young man with a hate filled voice, "Come here, Stuffed Animal! Let me cut off your tail for your arrogance!", a child screaming in pain, "You're hurting me! Let me go! Onegai! You're hurting me!" a roar of anger, a last stand, a last fighting war cry. "I hate you! You bastard! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! He was only a child! A fucking child! What the hell did he ever---" the roar began to be mixed into other voices "Do to you--To-Tomoyo-chan wouldn't you rather be--What are you doing here in that form--So give up now since Syaoran and I will collect all the--Oh key of Clow that hides the--OI WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY--Meilin I thought I told you to--Ever heard of a sister complex--must record your bravery Sakura--Sakura I have to tell you something I love . . ."
Hilligans covered his ears as the voices became smothering, but one voice, muffled by his hands, made it through, "There will be another . . ." Hilligans tried to block it but it was insistent, "Someone purer than this tainted soul . . ." Hilligans' eyes snapped open as he became aware of a presence in the room, in front of him was a black haired boy, he couldn't have been older than fifteen but he was covered in blood. He lifted his hand; he was holding a bloodied pair of scissors. Hilligans still heard the voice; "He will take my place within your heart."
The black haired boy pulled a long plait forward and began to snip it off, he coiled it in his hand and held it towards Hilligans. "But I love you. . . and I always. . . will. . ." His dark eyes were hidden by an impossible shadow. The voices stopped suddenly, Hilligans took the braid, shocked by the boy's utter calmness. The boy dropped the scissors and ran past Hilligans. Hilligans watched him as he leapt into Clow's arms. Marcibay's eyes widened as Clow pulled the boy closer and lustily removed the younger child's clothing, kissing the boy's mouth and throat with primal desire. "I love you, Master Clow Reed . . ." the boy began to say. Clow snorted and began to laugh cynically, "Of course you do . . . I can do with you as I please . . ."
The sensation of drowning came to him again, he was going to die! He couldn't breathe!
//SOMEONE HELP ME!//
Hilligans called out, clutching at his throat. It was closing, and the figure above the water still made no movement to save him.
"Mister Hilligans?" Marcibay frowned slightly, it was Clow's voice, "Come on . . . concentrate on the sound of my voice. . ." a damp cool cloth on his head, brought him closer to the surface of consciousness. "It's all right, you're safe," Clow continued. He'd heard Hilligans' call for help, and had rushed out on his fly card. He had been waiting for him, he had something wonderful to show him, his latest creation, but he was starting to worry when there was no sign of the punctual old man. He'd found Hilligans just past the gates, and for an awful moment, thought that the old man was dead. Clow didn't care that he was dressed in nothing but his dressing gown and pyjama trousers; Hilligans was the utmost in his mind.
He used the float card to get the unconscious man to his room, had the windy and the Libra gather and calm the horses, corralling them back into their stables. He charmed the coach and asked the dash to put Hilligans' stagecoach back in it's usual holding. Once inside Clow asked the watery to provide cool water and the move to fetch him a cloth. While Clow patiently pressed the damp handkerchief against Hilligans' sweating brow, he could feel the magical residue of a vision. A particularly violent one. After his last brutal vision, Clow didn't want to venture into the old man's mind, //Besides . . .// he thought with a sad smile, Hilligans would probably consider that a little bit of an intrusion. "Wouldn't you Mister Hilligans . . .? You'd say . . ." Clow put on a really bad imitation of Marcibay, "Laddie, don't ye go messin' in me mind . . . I don't go'a traipsin' in thy's so keep out'o' mine!" He chuckled lightly.
About an hour later, Hilligans had started to show signs of coming out of his trance, so Clow tried to lead the man out, "That's just it, you just concentrate on the sound of my voice and you will be alright . . ."
The old man's eyes fluttered open, and tried to focus on Clow. Clow smiled gently and handed him a glass of water, "Are you okay?"
Hilligans frowned, "No Laddie . . ." he said grimly, "I've seen sum'in, sum'in *bad*, and it's sum'in bad about thee . . . but . . ." the old man broke off, as he drank, "I canne remember it . . ."
"Visions can be like that . . ." Clow explained gently, he helped the old man sit up, "They can be so confusing, but the important details will come back to you when it is necessary . . ."
"Aye, of that I have no doubt . . ." the coach driver broke off again; he frowned as he felt something, "What's that Laddie?"
"Hmm?"
"I can feel thee . . . I can feel thy ruddy cards . . ." he paused as he cocked his head, "An' now I can feel sum'in else . . . what is it? What 'ave thee done?"
Clow smiled as he rose from the bed, he picked up a small wicker basket from the desk and brought it over to Hilligans' bed. "I've made him for the cards . . . I thought that I should start preparing them for their next Master."
"Next Master?"
"Yes . . ." Clow looked up from the basket, "I figured it out, well, at least part of it . . . the girl, she's going to try and catch my cards . . . because, for some reason, they are going to escape some time in the far future . . ."
"Aye . . ." Hilligans looked warily at the basket, "So what does that 'ave to do wit' tha' basket?"
Clow placed it down one the floor, and resumed his place on the bed, "If she tries to simply catch them, how will she do it? I'm the only one that knows all the tricks of the cards, the safety guards I put in them, if I'm dead, how will she know the right incantations? The right way to catch the cards? How to seal them or even start to create her own?" The young magician began to become rather excited, "So I made this . . . being, I was only out for a few minutes afterwards, that must mean my magic must be getting much stronger!"
Hilligans held up a silencing hand, "What do you mean you made this 'being'?"
Clow picked up a small bundle of blankets, he was careful with it, but he was excited, and proud to show off his latest creation. "It's a . . . star guardian." He unwrapped it hastily; keen to show his old friend what he had done. Hilligans, on the other hand, felt apprehension building, he hadn't even seen this creature of Clow's but he had a bad feeling about it. By Clow's mannerisms, the way he was eagerly preparing to show this creation off, it was clear Clow had only just created the being that day, it was unusual for Clow, as the young magician usually spent at least three days planning his creations . . . //unless . . .// thought Hilligans, //the boy must 'ave had a vision too . . .//
He wondered briefly what Clow had seen to prompt this unusual action. The boy finally pulled the last blanket from the hidden being. It was a cocoon of white feathers, "H-he's still a little sensitive to light," Clow stammered a bit excitedly, as he pulled the first wing from the being, followed by the second. As the little being's form was revealed, Clow looked up at Hilligans, "It'll take a few weeks or even months be-before he's fully grown . . . but-but he's going to be very intelligent . . . and now, we ha-have someone to eat cakes with! I've even put him under an obedience spell, so you don't need to worry about him causing mischief in your garden! . . . I-I-I don't even know what to call him . . . isn't he perfect?!"
While Clow cooed over the newly created baby, Hilligans tried desperately not to show his horror . . .
The child had long pure black hair; Clow had created the child from his vision.
Within a day, the child could crawl. Within a week, the child could walk. Within a month, the child had grown to have the appearance of a two-year- old human boy. Clow became a little concerned when he realised the child wasn't speaking, but Hilligans assured him, in a manner more like he was prophesising the Apocalypse, that the child would most certainly talk one day. Hilligans hadn't taken to happily to the child and regarded him more like he was a ticking bomb, than the perfect child Clow had created. Clow on the other hand was simply enthralled about the child; it was like a new pet to him. The child was developing a little slower than Clow would have liked but still it was interesting to see him everyday becoming more apt at living. //Living . . . //Clow would repeat the word in his mind, //My first truly living creation! Incredible!//
However there was another area of concern for Clow, the child not only didn't seem to talk, but also didn't seem to be able to sense the Clow cards.
Clow would hide a card, then asked the child to go find it for him. The child, who was rather serious and rarely smiled, would search every room of the six-floored Reed mansion until he found the card. After six weeks of his creation, Clow discovered that the child could read.
He'd found the child sitting in one of his isles, patiently reading a dictionary. Clow smiled, "What are you doing?"
The child snapped the book shut and stood, he bowed respectively. Clow chuckled; "It's all right, I'm just curious as to what you are doing?"
The child sat again and re-opened the book; he pointed to a word, and stared up at Clow. Clow sat beside the child and read the word aloud, "Learn? Oh, you are learning! What are you learning to do?"
Clow smiled even more as the boy flicked through the pages quickly to find his response, "Read? You are learning to read?" The child frowned slightly as he nodded, he pointed at Clow, then at the word. Clow understood the boy's confusion immediately, "The word sounds like my name, doesn't it?"
The boy nodded, as Clow went on to explain, "You see, to read, that word is spelt R E A D, that is in to read the words in a book . . . whereas my name, Reed is spelt R double E D." he pressed a hand against his chest, "I am Clow Reed, my name is Clow Reed. You . . ." he motioned towards the book, "Are reading the book. Understand?"
The black haired boy nodded, then started to flick through the pages again, and then pointed to another passage, which had a family coat of arms beside it. "The Reed family of England, one of the oldest and most powerful warlock blood lines known to magic community of England," Clow chuckled as he read, he tapped the emblem, "That's my family crest, my father was one of the Reeds, here . . ." Clow pulled the book out the child's hands gently, he turned back a few pages, to another family inscription, "This is the Li clan of China. This is my mother's family; they are also a powerful family of magicians. We are part of both these families."
The child looked up at him and motioned at himself, Clow nodded, "Yes, you too. You are my creation, my magic flows through you just as my parents' magic combines and flows through me. You are a part of my family."
The child solemnly nodded, and began to read the inscription in the dictionary. Clow gazed at him fondly as he began to learn about his family ties, but after half an hour Clow spoke again. "It's time to begin your training session, would you like to continue to read, and we can train later, or would you like to train now?"
The black haired boy considered both options carefully as he normally did. His decision was made when he snapped the book shut and carefully slid it back into its place. He stood and nodded his readiness.
A knock at his door made Clow look up from his book, "Come in," he said knowing who was behind the door. In fact he had been expecting him, the spring had turned unexpectedly dry and Clow had activated his storm card. Hilligans hadn't said anything but Clow could tell that the old man was upset that his well cared for garden was beginning to die. The door creaked quietly open as Clow's creation stepped in. the black haired boy was carrying a single candle, he paused uncertainly in the door way. Clow blinked in surprise as the memory of the strange vision came back, the candle lighted the child's lower face. Was this what the vision meant?
He glanced out the window, it wasn't a snowstorm, just a thunderstorm, and the vision had been very clear, that it was during a snowstorm that the angel had come to him. Clow had dreamed of the angel, dreamed and had had visions. The visions were cruel, they would not allow Clow to see what colour the angel's hair or clothes were. And Clow was desperate to know, know anything about this tender angel, who he would one day love dearly, whose heart he would one day break. Clow's dreams were more generous, but he knew they weren't exactly true, they were fantasies, providing him with one answer, sometimes the angel would be the white haired one, his gentle amethyst eyes demure as he pressed his hand against Clow, just on the verge of a sweet kiss. The other times, it was the black haired angel, his jade eyes wild with passion as he reverently crawled into Clow's bed, smiling as he shrugged out of his clothes obediently.
Clow couldn't make up his mind which he wanted more, one was gentle, the other passionate. The white haired angel inspired feelings of a deep love, deeper than Clow had ever known, perhaps something even spiritual, but the black haired angel . . . the one Clow had now created . . . he set Clow's blood alight, he almost couldn't stand the infatuation that he felt for the black haired angel, it made him burn and he wanted to be consumed by the fire.
Clow couldn't help the smile that spread on his face as he gazed at the black haired child. He was still a few months away from full maturation. Clow could see the angel from his dreams in the smaller eight-year-old sized boy. The shiny black hair, that he would one day run his fingers through, the pale skin, that Clow knew would become heated and flushed, the pale lips, that would utter his name with such loving passion, the child's wide jade green eyes filled with such innocence, Clow knew would one day, would be filled with passion. //Desire for me . . .// Clow blinked and quickly turned his attention to the window, he took some calming breathes before he could look at the boy again. He couldn't help the feelings that the boy provoked, but knew that until the boy was fully matured he couldn't, wouldn't touch the child.
The child was still looking at him worriedly, as Clow turned his attention back on him, "Are you afraid?"
The boy tried not to look scared as the lightning lit the room briefly, but when the thunder cracked loudly, his resolve broke and he dropped the candle and ran to Clow. Clow silently bid the Rain to douse the candle's flame as he pulled the boy on to his bed. "Don't be . . ." he rocked the child, "It's called a storm, it's a type of weather. It would be natural if *I* weren't creating it . . ."
The child looked up at him, Clow smiled, "I have a card that can make storms, just like . . ." he motioned to the Rain spirit that was raining cheerfully on the dropped candle, "Just like that spirit causes the rain . . . thank you Rain, that's quite enough."
The card bobbed on her little cloud and returned to her card form. The child plucked the card out of the air as it travelled back to the pack and pulled it towards him. He stared at it intently, as he crawled under the heavy scarlet quilt. Clow smiled and stroked the child's head softly, "It's a Clow card, it contains a magic spirit," the child nodded his understanding, "This particular spirit can control rain, she makes rain, and she can control the direction of natural rain . . . that's her name there." He pointed to the small gold banner. The child ran his finger over the black letters slowly. "If she ever escapes, you will have to tell the Cardcaptor to overwhelm her with the Watery card, turn her rain against her."
The clock began to chime softly, ten o'clock. Clow smiled, "It's late, and we should try and get some sleep." As Clow got up to remove his dressing gown, the child let the card float back to the pack. He watched it silently, thinking about what Clow had been saying.
Ever so often Clow would give him little bits of advice about the cards, how to catch them, what they did, and he would also talk about 'The Cardcaptor'. He didn't know who 'The Cardcaptor' was; the Master didn't seem to know 'the Cardcaptor's' name, even though he knew the names of everything else.
He watched as the Master moved around the room, softly blowing out the lit candles. The Master knew everything, the child had decided, he knew more than Mister Hilligans did, even though Mister Hilligans was older. The Master stared at him before blowing out the second to last candle; the last was on his bedside table. The Master yawned and pulled the hair tie out of his long black hair, it wasn't as long as the child's, but it fascinated him. He, personally, hardly ever pulled his hair from the tight pony tail he always kept it in, the Master seemed to like the style, and when they washed it together, the Master would instruct the Bubbles card to be extra gentle with his black tresses. The only part of his hair that wasn't in the tightly banded ponytail was a single plait that fell behind his left ear, and on his shoulder.
As he watched Clow, a thought formed in his mind, Clow was always explaining the names of objects, of people, of the cards . . . but Clow had never used his name . . . he frowned as he tried to recall his name, only to realise Clow had never given him one. He had said he was part of the Reed family, so that meant that he was a 'Reed'. But the Master had a name that went before that, and the child knew he wasn't supposed to use it for some reason, The Master was *always* the Master and never anything else. // But . . . what am I called?//
Clow climbed back into the bed and was about to blow out the last candle when he heard, "Master? What is my name?"
Clow blinked, for a few seconds he didn't understand where the small voice had come from. He turned and looked at the child, who stared back, expectantly. After a few seconds, a slight frown developed on the child's face, he opened his mouth and said again, "Master? What is my name?"
Clow blinked, he'd never heard the child speak before. The child was about to ask again when Clow laughed, "I heard you . . . it's just since when have you been able to speak?"
"I don't know, Master. I wanted to know something, but I do not have any other means of finding out. My name is not in any of the books, I am not one of the cards, and you have not explained it yet." Another frown formed on the boy's brow, "If you did not wish to discuss it yet, I apologise . . . however I wish to know now. What is my name?"
Clow looked bemusedly at him, the small boy had just given the most eloquent speech he had ever heard. He had assumed the boy knew his name, Clow had never had to use it because the boy was always close, and often he was the only one Clow would be teaching something to. Hilligans never used the name, he didn't even use Clow's name. "Hei-ying." Clow smiled, "Your name is Hei-ying."
Hei-ying looked up at the ceiling as he recalled the name, "Hei-ying. Li Hei-ying, a member of the Li clan of China. He wasn't your grandfather, he was your uncle."
Clow smiled proudly, Hei-ying had certainly learned the bloodlines that had lead to his creation. "Yes, he was the only member that didn't support my mother's marriage to my father. However, after I was born, he was the one charged with my training in the eastern arts of magic." Clow stroked Hei- ying's head again; "I am now the one that is charged with your training, I hope I will be a good teacher."
"You are the Master!" Hei-ying looked at Clow as if he had said some sort of curse, "You will be the best."
Clow chuckled as he blew the last candle out. "I hope so," he murmured as he lay down, and pull Hei-ying closer. "I hope so."
-------------------
And now it's Time for LEAVE IT TO DR MEGALOMANIA!!
Clow: An eight year old kid?! What do you think I am?! A pervert?! You hentai byatch!!
DrM: you hentai. . . [tries to think of good come back, fails] You HENTAI!!
Hei-ying: maybe you should try to explain. . .
DrM: stop sounding so rational . . . we all know what happens to you! [Turns to the readers] unlike Clow, I don't think he's a pervert, and Hei- ying isn't technically his child so. . .
Clow: sooo. . . I still get it on?
DrM: yes.
Clow: WOO-HOOO!!
DrM: but not with Yue. . .
Clow: NANI?!
DrM: . . .yet! [Laughs] please R&R minna-chan! I LONELY!! REVIEWS MAKE DrM HAPPY!!
I state for the record that, despite the fact I really, really wish I did, I don't own any of the official characters that will grace this story; it's all CLAMP's! Always has been, always will be! I *DO*, however, own Marcibay Hilligans and Hei-ying Reed!! I also own Mystrasa Kyree, and the dragon isn't mine, it's on loan from my good friend, the Blue Goo! And what the heck . . . I own the mansion as well! [Laughs] Also I don't pretend to have any Mastery over the language of Japanese or any clue as to correct grammatical structure. I put it in and hope it gets across the point I'm trying to make! And I don't pretend to be able to write any sort of accents so please don't hate me!!
"Speaking"
*Stress/emphasis*
//Thinking//
In This Tainted Soul. . .
By Dr Megalomania.
Part Seven: Hei-ying
[Ho-boy. . . there's some cussin' in here. . . fair warning! And I don't want anyone's momma beating me up 'cause you start cussin' too. . .]
"Steady, lassies . . . There's a good bale o' hay for thee waitin' at 'ome."
Hilligans rubbed his eyes; it was late as he was pulling up to the first gates of the Reed mansion. He bit back a yawn as he pulled the reins up slightly. He had always found that the horses had an easier time of it if they went through the barrier slowly. He rubbed his eyes again; he was tired, very tired. However the day had proved productive, Hilligans' eyes slid down to his brand new saw. Clow had offered to make him on but . . .
A sudden wave of nausea hit Marcibay; the taste of brackish water suddenly filled his mouth. He spluttered, and one hand slipped off the reins, and went to his throat. He was aware that there was nothing in his mouth, nothing that would make him feel like gasping for air, but he was also aware that he was drowning in someway. He began to panic, as his lungs struggled, almost bursting as they tried to fight for freely available air.
The horses started to neigh quietly as they sensed their coach driver's alarm. Marcibay tried to calm himself as the vision continued violently, he could see the horses, see the lights of Reed mansion, but he could also see the murky depths of water. He looked up; above him was the surface of the water, around him was strong vines dragging him further from the water. A figure was above the water, but Marcibay couldn't make it out, it was just watching him, just watching him dro—Hilligans turned around, he was in Clow's bedroom, but it was empty . . . and full at the same time, voices, whispers, yells echoed around the room. Hilligans felt as if he had been taken out of the frame of time and was now just experiencing impressions from the future, the past or maybe the present, Clow's voice: "I command thee . . . in this form I have chosen . . . Love me, crave me, and no one else . . . been away so long because we have a new addition to our family . . . No! No! NO! NO! NOOOO! "
Voices of people he'd never heard before, a sharp young man with a hate filled voice, "Come here, Stuffed Animal! Let me cut off your tail for your arrogance!", a child screaming in pain, "You're hurting me! Let me go! Onegai! You're hurting me!" a roar of anger, a last stand, a last fighting war cry. "I hate you! You bastard! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! He was only a child! A fucking child! What the hell did he ever---" the roar began to be mixed into other voices "Do to you--To-Tomoyo-chan wouldn't you rather be--What are you doing here in that form--So give up now since Syaoran and I will collect all the--Oh key of Clow that hides the--OI WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY--Meilin I thought I told you to--Ever heard of a sister complex--must record your bravery Sakura--Sakura I have to tell you something I love . . ."
Hilligans covered his ears as the voices became smothering, but one voice, muffled by his hands, made it through, "There will be another . . ." Hilligans tried to block it but it was insistent, "Someone purer than this tainted soul . . ." Hilligans' eyes snapped open as he became aware of a presence in the room, in front of him was a black haired boy, he couldn't have been older than fifteen but he was covered in blood. He lifted his hand; he was holding a bloodied pair of scissors. Hilligans still heard the voice; "He will take my place within your heart."
The black haired boy pulled a long plait forward and began to snip it off, he coiled it in his hand and held it towards Hilligans. "But I love you. . . and I always. . . will. . ." His dark eyes were hidden by an impossible shadow. The voices stopped suddenly, Hilligans took the braid, shocked by the boy's utter calmness. The boy dropped the scissors and ran past Hilligans. Hilligans watched him as he leapt into Clow's arms. Marcibay's eyes widened as Clow pulled the boy closer and lustily removed the younger child's clothing, kissing the boy's mouth and throat with primal desire. "I love you, Master Clow Reed . . ." the boy began to say. Clow snorted and began to laugh cynically, "Of course you do . . . I can do with you as I please . . ."
The sensation of drowning came to him again, he was going to die! He couldn't breathe!
//SOMEONE HELP ME!//
Hilligans called out, clutching at his throat. It was closing, and the figure above the water still made no movement to save him.
"Mister Hilligans?" Marcibay frowned slightly, it was Clow's voice, "Come on . . . concentrate on the sound of my voice. . ." a damp cool cloth on his head, brought him closer to the surface of consciousness. "It's all right, you're safe," Clow continued. He'd heard Hilligans' call for help, and had rushed out on his fly card. He had been waiting for him, he had something wonderful to show him, his latest creation, but he was starting to worry when there was no sign of the punctual old man. He'd found Hilligans just past the gates, and for an awful moment, thought that the old man was dead. Clow didn't care that he was dressed in nothing but his dressing gown and pyjama trousers; Hilligans was the utmost in his mind.
He used the float card to get the unconscious man to his room, had the windy and the Libra gather and calm the horses, corralling them back into their stables. He charmed the coach and asked the dash to put Hilligans' stagecoach back in it's usual holding. Once inside Clow asked the watery to provide cool water and the move to fetch him a cloth. While Clow patiently pressed the damp handkerchief against Hilligans' sweating brow, he could feel the magical residue of a vision. A particularly violent one. After his last brutal vision, Clow didn't want to venture into the old man's mind, //Besides . . .// he thought with a sad smile, Hilligans would probably consider that a little bit of an intrusion. "Wouldn't you Mister Hilligans . . .? You'd say . . ." Clow put on a really bad imitation of Marcibay, "Laddie, don't ye go messin' in me mind . . . I don't go'a traipsin' in thy's so keep out'o' mine!" He chuckled lightly.
About an hour later, Hilligans had started to show signs of coming out of his trance, so Clow tried to lead the man out, "That's just it, you just concentrate on the sound of my voice and you will be alright . . ."
The old man's eyes fluttered open, and tried to focus on Clow. Clow smiled gently and handed him a glass of water, "Are you okay?"
Hilligans frowned, "No Laddie . . ." he said grimly, "I've seen sum'in, sum'in *bad*, and it's sum'in bad about thee . . . but . . ." the old man broke off, as he drank, "I canne remember it . . ."
"Visions can be like that . . ." Clow explained gently, he helped the old man sit up, "They can be so confusing, but the important details will come back to you when it is necessary . . ."
"Aye, of that I have no doubt . . ." the coach driver broke off again; he frowned as he felt something, "What's that Laddie?"
"Hmm?"
"I can feel thee . . . I can feel thy ruddy cards . . ." he paused as he cocked his head, "An' now I can feel sum'in else . . . what is it? What 'ave thee done?"
Clow smiled as he rose from the bed, he picked up a small wicker basket from the desk and brought it over to Hilligans' bed. "I've made him for the cards . . . I thought that I should start preparing them for their next Master."
"Next Master?"
"Yes . . ." Clow looked up from the basket, "I figured it out, well, at least part of it . . . the girl, she's going to try and catch my cards . . . because, for some reason, they are going to escape some time in the far future . . ."
"Aye . . ." Hilligans looked warily at the basket, "So what does that 'ave to do wit' tha' basket?"
Clow placed it down one the floor, and resumed his place on the bed, "If she tries to simply catch them, how will she do it? I'm the only one that knows all the tricks of the cards, the safety guards I put in them, if I'm dead, how will she know the right incantations? The right way to catch the cards? How to seal them or even start to create her own?" The young magician began to become rather excited, "So I made this . . . being, I was only out for a few minutes afterwards, that must mean my magic must be getting much stronger!"
Hilligans held up a silencing hand, "What do you mean you made this 'being'?"
Clow picked up a small bundle of blankets, he was careful with it, but he was excited, and proud to show off his latest creation. "It's a . . . star guardian." He unwrapped it hastily; keen to show his old friend what he had done. Hilligans, on the other hand, felt apprehension building, he hadn't even seen this creature of Clow's but he had a bad feeling about it. By Clow's mannerisms, the way he was eagerly preparing to show this creation off, it was clear Clow had only just created the being that day, it was unusual for Clow, as the young magician usually spent at least three days planning his creations . . . //unless . . .// thought Hilligans, //the boy must 'ave had a vision too . . .//
He wondered briefly what Clow had seen to prompt this unusual action. The boy finally pulled the last blanket from the hidden being. It was a cocoon of white feathers, "H-he's still a little sensitive to light," Clow stammered a bit excitedly, as he pulled the first wing from the being, followed by the second. As the little being's form was revealed, Clow looked up at Hilligans, "It'll take a few weeks or even months be-before he's fully grown . . . but-but he's going to be very intelligent . . . and now, we ha-have someone to eat cakes with! I've even put him under an obedience spell, so you don't need to worry about him causing mischief in your garden! . . . I-I-I don't even know what to call him . . . isn't he perfect?!"
While Clow cooed over the newly created baby, Hilligans tried desperately not to show his horror . . .
The child had long pure black hair; Clow had created the child from his vision.
Within a day, the child could crawl. Within a week, the child could walk. Within a month, the child had grown to have the appearance of a two-year- old human boy. Clow became a little concerned when he realised the child wasn't speaking, but Hilligans assured him, in a manner more like he was prophesising the Apocalypse, that the child would most certainly talk one day. Hilligans hadn't taken to happily to the child and regarded him more like he was a ticking bomb, than the perfect child Clow had created. Clow on the other hand was simply enthralled about the child; it was like a new pet to him. The child was developing a little slower than Clow would have liked but still it was interesting to see him everyday becoming more apt at living. //Living . . . //Clow would repeat the word in his mind, //My first truly living creation! Incredible!//
However there was another area of concern for Clow, the child not only didn't seem to talk, but also didn't seem to be able to sense the Clow cards.
Clow would hide a card, then asked the child to go find it for him. The child, who was rather serious and rarely smiled, would search every room of the six-floored Reed mansion until he found the card. After six weeks of his creation, Clow discovered that the child could read.
He'd found the child sitting in one of his isles, patiently reading a dictionary. Clow smiled, "What are you doing?"
The child snapped the book shut and stood, he bowed respectively. Clow chuckled; "It's all right, I'm just curious as to what you are doing?"
The child sat again and re-opened the book; he pointed to a word, and stared up at Clow. Clow sat beside the child and read the word aloud, "Learn? Oh, you are learning! What are you learning to do?"
Clow smiled even more as the boy flicked through the pages quickly to find his response, "Read? You are learning to read?" The child frowned slightly as he nodded, he pointed at Clow, then at the word. Clow understood the boy's confusion immediately, "The word sounds like my name, doesn't it?"
The boy nodded, as Clow went on to explain, "You see, to read, that word is spelt R E A D, that is in to read the words in a book . . . whereas my name, Reed is spelt R double E D." he pressed a hand against his chest, "I am Clow Reed, my name is Clow Reed. You . . ." he motioned towards the book, "Are reading the book. Understand?"
The black haired boy nodded, then started to flick through the pages again, and then pointed to another passage, which had a family coat of arms beside it. "The Reed family of England, one of the oldest and most powerful warlock blood lines known to magic community of England," Clow chuckled as he read, he tapped the emblem, "That's my family crest, my father was one of the Reeds, here . . ." Clow pulled the book out the child's hands gently, he turned back a few pages, to another family inscription, "This is the Li clan of China. This is my mother's family; they are also a powerful family of magicians. We are part of both these families."
The child looked up at him and motioned at himself, Clow nodded, "Yes, you too. You are my creation, my magic flows through you just as my parents' magic combines and flows through me. You are a part of my family."
The child solemnly nodded, and began to read the inscription in the dictionary. Clow gazed at him fondly as he began to learn about his family ties, but after half an hour Clow spoke again. "It's time to begin your training session, would you like to continue to read, and we can train later, or would you like to train now?"
The black haired boy considered both options carefully as he normally did. His decision was made when he snapped the book shut and carefully slid it back into its place. He stood and nodded his readiness.
A knock at his door made Clow look up from his book, "Come in," he said knowing who was behind the door. In fact he had been expecting him, the spring had turned unexpectedly dry and Clow had activated his storm card. Hilligans hadn't said anything but Clow could tell that the old man was upset that his well cared for garden was beginning to die. The door creaked quietly open as Clow's creation stepped in. the black haired boy was carrying a single candle, he paused uncertainly in the door way. Clow blinked in surprise as the memory of the strange vision came back, the candle lighted the child's lower face. Was this what the vision meant?
He glanced out the window, it wasn't a snowstorm, just a thunderstorm, and the vision had been very clear, that it was during a snowstorm that the angel had come to him. Clow had dreamed of the angel, dreamed and had had visions. The visions were cruel, they would not allow Clow to see what colour the angel's hair or clothes were. And Clow was desperate to know, know anything about this tender angel, who he would one day love dearly, whose heart he would one day break. Clow's dreams were more generous, but he knew they weren't exactly true, they were fantasies, providing him with one answer, sometimes the angel would be the white haired one, his gentle amethyst eyes demure as he pressed his hand against Clow, just on the verge of a sweet kiss. The other times, it was the black haired angel, his jade eyes wild with passion as he reverently crawled into Clow's bed, smiling as he shrugged out of his clothes obediently.
Clow couldn't make up his mind which he wanted more, one was gentle, the other passionate. The white haired angel inspired feelings of a deep love, deeper than Clow had ever known, perhaps something even spiritual, but the black haired angel . . . the one Clow had now created . . . he set Clow's blood alight, he almost couldn't stand the infatuation that he felt for the black haired angel, it made him burn and he wanted to be consumed by the fire.
Clow couldn't help the smile that spread on his face as he gazed at the black haired child. He was still a few months away from full maturation. Clow could see the angel from his dreams in the smaller eight-year-old sized boy. The shiny black hair, that he would one day run his fingers through, the pale skin, that Clow knew would become heated and flushed, the pale lips, that would utter his name with such loving passion, the child's wide jade green eyes filled with such innocence, Clow knew would one day, would be filled with passion. //Desire for me . . .// Clow blinked and quickly turned his attention to the window, he took some calming breathes before he could look at the boy again. He couldn't help the feelings that the boy provoked, but knew that until the boy was fully matured he couldn't, wouldn't touch the child.
The child was still looking at him worriedly, as Clow turned his attention back on him, "Are you afraid?"
The boy tried not to look scared as the lightning lit the room briefly, but when the thunder cracked loudly, his resolve broke and he dropped the candle and ran to Clow. Clow silently bid the Rain to douse the candle's flame as he pulled the boy on to his bed. "Don't be . . ." he rocked the child, "It's called a storm, it's a type of weather. It would be natural if *I* weren't creating it . . ."
The child looked up at him, Clow smiled, "I have a card that can make storms, just like . . ." he motioned to the Rain spirit that was raining cheerfully on the dropped candle, "Just like that spirit causes the rain . . . thank you Rain, that's quite enough."
The card bobbed on her little cloud and returned to her card form. The child plucked the card out of the air as it travelled back to the pack and pulled it towards him. He stared at it intently, as he crawled under the heavy scarlet quilt. Clow smiled and stroked the child's head softly, "It's a Clow card, it contains a magic spirit," the child nodded his understanding, "This particular spirit can control rain, she makes rain, and she can control the direction of natural rain . . . that's her name there." He pointed to the small gold banner. The child ran his finger over the black letters slowly. "If she ever escapes, you will have to tell the Cardcaptor to overwhelm her with the Watery card, turn her rain against her."
The clock began to chime softly, ten o'clock. Clow smiled, "It's late, and we should try and get some sleep." As Clow got up to remove his dressing gown, the child let the card float back to the pack. He watched it silently, thinking about what Clow had been saying.
Ever so often Clow would give him little bits of advice about the cards, how to catch them, what they did, and he would also talk about 'The Cardcaptor'. He didn't know who 'The Cardcaptor' was; the Master didn't seem to know 'the Cardcaptor's' name, even though he knew the names of everything else.
He watched as the Master moved around the room, softly blowing out the lit candles. The Master knew everything, the child had decided, he knew more than Mister Hilligans did, even though Mister Hilligans was older. The Master stared at him before blowing out the second to last candle; the last was on his bedside table. The Master yawned and pulled the hair tie out of his long black hair, it wasn't as long as the child's, but it fascinated him. He, personally, hardly ever pulled his hair from the tight pony tail he always kept it in, the Master seemed to like the style, and when they washed it together, the Master would instruct the Bubbles card to be extra gentle with his black tresses. The only part of his hair that wasn't in the tightly banded ponytail was a single plait that fell behind his left ear, and on his shoulder.
As he watched Clow, a thought formed in his mind, Clow was always explaining the names of objects, of people, of the cards . . . but Clow had never used his name . . . he frowned as he tried to recall his name, only to realise Clow had never given him one. He had said he was part of the Reed family, so that meant that he was a 'Reed'. But the Master had a name that went before that, and the child knew he wasn't supposed to use it for some reason, The Master was *always* the Master and never anything else. // But . . . what am I called?//
Clow climbed back into the bed and was about to blow out the last candle when he heard, "Master? What is my name?"
Clow blinked, for a few seconds he didn't understand where the small voice had come from. He turned and looked at the child, who stared back, expectantly. After a few seconds, a slight frown developed on the child's face, he opened his mouth and said again, "Master? What is my name?"
Clow blinked, he'd never heard the child speak before. The child was about to ask again when Clow laughed, "I heard you . . . it's just since when have you been able to speak?"
"I don't know, Master. I wanted to know something, but I do not have any other means of finding out. My name is not in any of the books, I am not one of the cards, and you have not explained it yet." Another frown formed on the boy's brow, "If you did not wish to discuss it yet, I apologise . . . however I wish to know now. What is my name?"
Clow looked bemusedly at him, the small boy had just given the most eloquent speech he had ever heard. He had assumed the boy knew his name, Clow had never had to use it because the boy was always close, and often he was the only one Clow would be teaching something to. Hilligans never used the name, he didn't even use Clow's name. "Hei-ying." Clow smiled, "Your name is Hei-ying."
Hei-ying looked up at the ceiling as he recalled the name, "Hei-ying. Li Hei-ying, a member of the Li clan of China. He wasn't your grandfather, he was your uncle."
Clow smiled proudly, Hei-ying had certainly learned the bloodlines that had lead to his creation. "Yes, he was the only member that didn't support my mother's marriage to my father. However, after I was born, he was the one charged with my training in the eastern arts of magic." Clow stroked Hei- ying's head again; "I am now the one that is charged with your training, I hope I will be a good teacher."
"You are the Master!" Hei-ying looked at Clow as if he had said some sort of curse, "You will be the best."
Clow chuckled as he blew the last candle out. "I hope so," he murmured as he lay down, and pull Hei-ying closer. "I hope so."
-------------------
And now it's Time for LEAVE IT TO DR MEGALOMANIA!!
Clow: An eight year old kid?! What do you think I am?! A pervert?! You hentai byatch!!
DrM: you hentai. . . [tries to think of good come back, fails] You HENTAI!!
Hei-ying: maybe you should try to explain. . .
DrM: stop sounding so rational . . . we all know what happens to you! [Turns to the readers] unlike Clow, I don't think he's a pervert, and Hei- ying isn't technically his child so. . .
Clow: sooo. . . I still get it on?
DrM: yes.
Clow: WOO-HOOO!!
DrM: but not with Yue. . .
Clow: NANI?!
DrM: . . .yet! [Laughs] please R&R minna-chan! I LONELY!! REVIEWS MAKE DrM HAPPY!!