A/N: Wow. I'm a little late with the posting aren't I? Sorry; school just started and I had lots of problems with this chappie. Hope you like!
Disclaimers: I no own, you no sue. Capiche?
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Part III: Trials: Mirror of Decepio
Sakura skated down the sidewalk on her way to class; occasionally passing some poor souls who had to go to school like herself. She sighed, letting the dizziness subdue to a minimal as the morning breeze brushed at her bangs. She always loved mornings, even though she was never awake to fully enjoy them.
Sakura inhaled the morning air, letting it wash over her senses. Some cherry blossom petals got tangled in her short blond tresses, and she brushed them off thoughtlessly. Rollerblading around a sharp turn, she was brought into an alleyway filled with cherry blossom tress in full bloom. She loved spring. She loved all aspects of the season, the mood, the trees, the very feeling in the air and her birthday.
The cheerful girl spotted her school, Seijou High, not far off, and sped up, not wanting to keep her boyfriend waiting. After changing into her indoor shoes and disposing of all of her unnecessary belongings, she headed for her classroom. As Sakura strolled down the hallways, she scanned the faces of other students, unknowingly searching one particular visage.
With a cheeky smile, Sakura opened the door to her classroom, systematically waving to her boyfriend, and walked in. She cheerfully skipped down the rows of desks, heading towards her seat in the back of the room, occasionally saying a warm "Ohayo" to her friends. Once she reached her designated desk, she dropped her backpack on the floor and gave her boyfriend a chaste peck on the cheek as a way of greeting.
"O-ohayo Sakura-chan," Syaoran said meekly, colouring slightly around the ears.
Smiling sweetly, Sakura plopped back to her seat, fiddling nervously with her honey locks. Chewing on her lip in trepidation, the girl began to ask questions upon questions about the complex math test that they were going to have that day. Syaoran patiently explained to her the differences and variations between linear and non-linear lines.
When there was a break in his tutoring, Sakura asked, "Are we missing someone?"
Syaoran looked at her funnily, but said nothing and continued with his prepping of her. Chewing on her lip even more fiercely, Sakura began to fidget with the pages of Syaoran's notebook, not paying attention to his questionings. A thin line of frustration appeared between her delicate eyebrows, making her appear different than her usual jovial self.
"I feel as if there is something very important missing," She persisted after Syaoran gave up on tutoring her.
"What do you mean?" He asked with a sigh.
"I don't know. It just feels like a large part of myself is gone. Like someone took it away." Sakura answered, the slight frown growing on her face.
"Perhaps you just didn't have enough sleep." Syaoran said, trying to ease her worry. He did not like when she was bothered with something, it meant that he had to get rid of that certain problem. "I always feel like in the gutter after a night of studying."
Giving Syaoran a grateful smile and a playful pat on the arm, Sakura continued with her previous fidgeting, all trace of worry gone from her pixie face. Syaoran sighed thankfully, contented to simply listen to his girlfriend chat nonchalantly.
After a long day of school, which involved an excruciatingly hard math test, cheerleading practice and a detention, Sakura's anxiety returned. At one point, when she was sitting on a park swing, Syaoran rocking her back and forth, she felt a burning, aching sensation from deep within. She tried to talk to the Chinese boy about it, but he dismissed it as he did her earlier attempt. When she came home, after disposing of her school apparel and a little squabble with her brother, she asked Kero about it. The little guardian hovered in the air in mid thought, his paws crossed in meditative position, but after much contemplation decided that nothing was wrong and that Sakura should go to sleep earlier that night.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, the usually cheerful girl obediently did her homework and household chores. That night, after Kero finished his twelfth round of Tekken Tag 3 (A/N:...hehe), Sakura lay in bed, moping about nobody believing her. Sometime during the night, she woke up, which was quite unusual considering her sleeping habits. Sitting in bed and glaring as best she could at the darkness, Sakura pondered on the source of the disruption.
The nagging sensation at the pit of her stomach returned, spreading though her weary limbs and making her feel nearly faint. Laying back down into her cozy bed, Sakura shut her eyelids tightly, hoping that the feeling would miraculously disappear. Blurry images swam before her tightly closed lids. She saw strange people, both with a shock of raven hair and startling eyes, she saw other things, herself and Syaoran. Running a cool hand over the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, she turned to her side, one image giving over to the next.
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Tomoyo woke up with the merry chirping of the birds and the soothing whistling of the wind though the breaks in the room's interior. Stretching contentedly in her bed, she curled to her side, not wanting to give up the comfort just yet. She looked at the golden threads interweaving though her pristine nightgown (she was given it by King Ruminar as a way of welcoming). Every thread, every tiny pattern blended perfectly together, creating one magnificent work of wonder. Tomoyo, during her entire stay in the elf country, never stopped being amazed at the ingenuity of her host. Everything the elves did, whether food, clothing or otherwise, was made with loving and meticulous care.
Stretching further, her stomach grumbled and she decided that breakfast was in order. Pulling on a cream coloured silk dress and a matching delicately embroidered robe, she walked out of her sleeping quarters. Walking gracefully down the green corridors of the guests' wing, Tomoyo almost bumped into Eriol, who was stumbling through the entry of his room.
Looking over him, she noticed the way his hair fell haphazardly into his eyes and the sloppily donned shirt. Grinning slightly to herself, she continued on her way. Walking through an arched threshold, she entered another winding hallway with elaborate decorations. When she reached the dining area, she noted with some surprise that Nakuru and Spinel were already there, having breakfast. Shaking her head in confusion, she ambled over to them; since when did Nakuru and Spinel actually acted civil toward each other?
"Have you seen Eriol-sama?" Nakuru asked when the girl sat across from him.
"I passed him on my way here." Tomoyo answered. "Is anything wrong?"
"No, no, of course not." The guardian hastened to say. "I just wanted to ask him something."
Shaking her head once again, Tomoyo waited for her meal to be delivered by the King's servants. Finally, her breakfast was brought by a dark haired elf. Inhaling the delectable aroma, the girl set out to eat. The food (bread of some kind that had a sweet flavour and dark coloured syrup that reminded her of tea and honey) melted in her mouth, setting her taste bites aflame with the flavour. It was another thing she loved about the elves; they had astounding culinary skills.
Just when Tomoyo was finished with the sweet bread and before she could devour an apple, the same elf that brought her meal came over to them. Silently he looked over the threesome, with something resembling boredom marking his face. He pointed to Tomoyo and beckoned her forward to follow him. Looking at her companions, Tomoyo shrugged and followed the elf.
While they were walking, Tomoyo tried to engage the man in a friendly conversation, but he remained silent, a passive expression on his face. Sighing, Tomoyo looked at the trees around her. It seemed as if very few of the elves could speak their language, and those that did chose not to. She did not take that as an insult; what really hurt her was the lack of interest from their host. He never seemed to care about their dealings, their problem. She thought that a creature so perfect and beautiful by nature would have enough compassion to fill an ocean.
They entered a dark pathway, a tunnel of sorts. Tomoyo looked at the path. I was more elaborate; the rails were done in intertwining patterns of softwood. The floor itself was made from smooth dark stone, something that was only allowed for the King's chambers. Lanterns were suspended as the corridor progressed, illuminating the carvings on the walls.
Tomoyo was looking at a large mural depicting a grotesque sacrificing ritual. Shaking her head with disgust, she averted her eyes to the back of her silent companion. The tunnel soon gave way to a dull yellow light. Tomoyo found herself in an entrance to stone chamber, robed statues standing about the circular room. In the middle there stood a large granite pedestal, dark silk draped over its surface, the many candles sending slivers of tricky light across the cloth. Surrounding the podium were six equally dilapidated columns.
Tomoyo just stood there, transfixed, slightly horrified. She felt nervous and giddy, but could not trace the source of the feeling. She did not even notice the dark haired elf leave the chamber, nor did she notice an arched doorway not too far from her right. She was startled when a white figure came up from behind her, its clothes brushing by her like mist against wet skin. Clutching her hand to her heart, Tomoyo followed the figure further inside the room.
On a second and closer inspection, Tomoyo noticed that there was a velvet-upholstered chair between two shadowy statues. The candles she thought were the main light source, were actually miniscule lanterns, their source of power indefinite. The air itself was thick, musky with a very peculiar, though undistinguishable, air. A velvet curtain shielded other passages from view, presumably like the one she came from.
Suddenly, Tomoyo felt old. She could not explain the feeling, could not discern its source or reason for it. She simply felt ancient, as if the entire weight of the room bore down on her, burying her beneath layers of stone and mystery. Her legs felt like perpetual jelly, so she sat down on the floor to stop the quaking of her knees. Lowering her head closer to her knees, her hair obscuring her face from view, Tomoyo heaved a shaky sigh.
The figure in white stopped in front of the pedestal, removing its hood while turning around to face the distraught girl. A woman with long silver hair cascading in waves down her back gazed down her straight nose at the girl. Cold blue eyes stared back at Tomoyo's, the elf maiden's jaw clenched tightly, lips held in a firm line.
"Welcome, Mistress," the woman said, her voice cold yet oddly appealing, slow and rich of knowledge and the Elvish tongue.
Tomoyo looked at the woman, tucking her knees closer to her body, arms snaking to hold the limbs for comfort. "What do you want from me?" The girl asked, suddenly afraid.
The woman looked at her, the cold eyes piercing Tomoyo's soul. The woman's lips curled slightly at the corners in a semblance of a smile, a cruel smile, at that. "I will not harm you child. Come," this was followed by the lady extending her hands to the girl on the floor.
Tomoyo obeyed, though she did not know why. Walking slowly, carefully towards the woman, Tomoyo took the elf's hands, and reeled. The hands were icy cold and had a surprisingly strong grip. The touch tarnished Tomoyo's skin, branding the soft flesh with an odd tingling sensation.
"I am Casali (1), the Oracle of the Order, little one," the woman continued. "It was I who summoned you here."
"Why?" The girl asked, he voice trembling slightly.
Something crossing as a smirk and a humourless smile passed Casali's features, marring her face with an intricate play of shadows. "You are needed," she simply said, the words rolling opulently between her pale lips. Tomoyo suppressed a shudder, turning away from the white figure before her, withdrawing her hands from the other's hands.
It was then that she noticed that Casali and herself were not the only beings in the dimly lit room. In a shadowy section of the room, in front of a draped passageway, stood three elves, all with golden hair and rich jade robes. All three had their golden heads bowed respectfully, but still managing to retain their dignity. They seemed to radiate a ray of sheer brilliance, not something visible, but something that Tomoyo just felt. Her heart leapt in joy, filled with a calm determination.
The lady also noticed their guests, and silently beckoned them forward. "They are the three syndicate of the Oracle. This," she said whilst pointing to the tallest of the three, "is Solaer. And these are his brothers, Solaro and Solitae (2)," Casali said, indicating the other two. "They will be assisting you."
Tomoyo looked perplexed. She had never heard of an Oracle, neither did she hear of any syndicate. It was beyond her ability to comprehend why such a group would want her assistance. Looking in the general direction of the elves, she noted that they seemed to be waiting for her. Flushing slightly, she glanced questioningly at the lady, a little chilled at Casali's outward lack of emotions.
Casali motioned for Tomoyo to follow her around the pedestal, still remaining silent and distant. The woman removed the dark fabric from the granite podium, the silk fell to the floor at Tomoyo's feet, pooling like a sea of darkness with the occasional shimmering of lights. Embedded in the dark rock was a shallow circular basin with crystalline water touching its brim. Triangular and rounded patterns crossed the hard rock surface; Elvish runes scattered in odd places in fluid script.
Tomoyo reached a tentative hand to touch the symbols, which when looked from above would show an intricate web of interloping destinies (not that she knew). When her pale digits made contact with the dark stone, she felt a cold fire run through her; up her fingers, through her arms and into the rest of her body. Drawing her hand away in a hurry and clutching it to her chest protectively.
Whimpering slightly, she glanced at the three brothers, noting with disappointment that neither of them looked concerned. She inched closer to a column, using it as a support and protection.
"Do not be afraid, nothing will harm you," Casali said and Tomoyo instinctively rolled her eyes at the statement.
"This is the Mirror of Decepio (3)," said Solaer in his musical voice. "It is the guide to the past."
"Through the past you will see yourself and know your future," continued Solaro.
"If you can tell what's real," finished Solitae with a brief nod to his brothers.
"Why me?" The confused girl asked.
"You are special," Casali simply stated. "We four have relied on this mirror for millennia. It showed us the past, our world as it should be. Now, we cannot see anything. Our world is dying, and while we wait for the ultimate demise, the mirror is clouded with the fog of uncertainty. Our race, our realm needs guidance for survival; we believe you might be able to see through the haze and help us."
"What do I have to do to help you?" Tomoyo asked.
"Merely look in the mirror and open your mind," one of the brothers replied.
"That's it? That is all you need from me?" The dark-haired girl was no longer afraid of the strange feelings this room roused in her, her curiosity taking the best of her.
Casali nodded her blonde head. "That is all, child. Just look into it and open your mind."
Filled with new determination, Tomoyo untangled herself from the column she clung to and strode to stand beside Casali. She stole a glance at the three brothers, her heart singing once again, and moved closer to the middle of the pedestal. With a heavy sign and something swelling at the pit of her stomach, she leaned in for a look at the mirror.
At first she saw only the crystalline water the silver of the bottom of the basin. She then noted her face, looking frazzled and nervous, staring back at her. Looking closer, she could see the reflection of the ceiling patterns and the tiny breaks in the rocks. Sighing gratefully, Tomoyo was about to pull back when something stopped her.
She did not know why, but she felt an urge to cry. Still looking at her reflection, her vision clouded and moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. She saw herself reach out to brush at the swelling tears, though she did not remember wanting to do so. A single tear slid across her pale cheek and fell into the water, creating tiny ripples in the water of the mirror.
Tomoyo watched with some amazement and horror as the "her" in the mirror brushed at another tear and looked to her right. Tomoyo could no longer see the ceiling patterns, she could, though, see the flickering of many tiny stars and the outlines of trees. Her reflection said something; her lips moving rapidly and then a small smile crossed her lips. Turning back towards Tomoyo, the reflection dabbed at another tear and put another smile on.
The image shifted before Tomoyo could decipher what the meaning of this one was. This time, Tomoyo saw Sakura and herself outside of their school, chatting animatedly. Both of them were smiling and Sakura giggled here and there. A lean, chestnut haired boy, who was slightly flushed in the face, ran up to them, saying something too quick for Tomoyo to understand. She then saw herself give out an exaggerated squeal of delight and hug her friend in a tight embrace. Tomoyo also nodded with a little pang, the way the boy looked at her friend and the way Sakura smiled dreamily.
Another bout of ripples marred the crystalline surface, and a new image emerged. She saw herself being engulfed in a torrential storm, Sakura and Syaoran with Clow Cards at hand, yelling at the top of their lungs. Shaking her head profoundly, Tomoyo forced herself to look on. She now saw Eriol perched on a tree branch, grinning broadly down at her. The picture changed, now taking on the likeness of her mother and her bodyguards. Tomoyo's throat tightened and she shut her eyes to block the image.
When she opened her eyes again, Yue and Keroberus were looking back at her. Like the faces of the sea, the vision changed yet again, now showing something Tomoyo never experienced. Afraid to blink lest she miss something, Tomoyo kept her eyes on the mirror. Hundreds if not thousands of images swam before her eyes, enthralling her.
She saw people, many of whom she never has seen before. She saw buildings and cities, countries and their rulers. Tomoyo saw beautiful things, flowery meadows and lush forests; things that she would easily die for. She also witnessed wars and destruction; people running with terrified expressions on their faces. She caught glimpses of death; the corpses' visages contorted into grotesque expressions and the lifelessness in their hollowed eyes.
By this time, Tomoyo did not even notice the tears that were running freely down her cheeks, nor did she care. Her head throbbed with all the things she's seen. Her chest felt tight with many suppressed emotions. Tomoyo stifled a mangled sob, turning finally way from the cruel waters of the mirror. Her vision still blurry from the tears, she glanced at Casali and the three brothers, who were still as impassive as ever.
"What must be done?" She asked when she felt her throat loosen up a bit.
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"I tell you, there is absolutely nothing going on between Tomoyo and myself," declared a very irritated Eriol.
"But you are simply perfect for each other!" Exclaimed Nakuru, his brow creasing from frustration. "You both love music, have similar features and are malicious beings at heart."
"Even so, that does not mean that we will make the best couple," said Eriol with a sigh.
Shaking his head in frustration, Nakuru looked outside to cool himself off. 'Why is it that they can't see how perfect they are together? It's like I'm dealing with chimps here!' thought Nakuru. He felt very much like drumming his head on something very hard. It perplexed him why such simple things could not be seen by the ones in question. And what aggravated him even further was that Suppi refused to help him on this little thing, despite all the coxing and begging he did.
"Don't you feel anything besides friendship for her?" Nakuru attempted.
Eriol opened his mouth to blurt out a smart retort and stopped. What did he feel for Tomoyo? She certainly was someone special to him, and he definitely cared about her. Was that all he felt for her, though? There were certain occasions when he would get odd thoughts about her. Like the way her lips were the perfect shape for kissing and the way her long lashes would shield her eyes to make her look mysterious and seductive at the same time.
Shaking his head vigorously, he was about to answer when the girl in question entered the room. Grinning crookedly at the interruption, he motioned her towards them. Looking at him dazedly, Tomoyo refused politely, saying that she felt fatigued. A small frown crossed Eriol's perfectly sculpted mouth. Tomoyo looked paler than usual, the hollows underneath her cheekbones standing out more than usual, the musical note that usually prevailed her voice was a little thin.
Shaking his head, he turned back to his companions, delicately changing the subject, "So, what are we doing this evening?"
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That evening, the elves had built a large fire not far from the banks of Arihel, in celebration of some great occasion. Eriol did not know what was so special about that day, but he did not mind much. They were given new clothes, more festive and elegant in design. His was a rich sea green colour with golden vines embroidered around the hems and the collar; he had yet to see Nakuru's and Tomoyo's ensemble.
He was sitting around the fire, listening to the various elven songs, letting them lull him into a dull daze. He had some red vine earlier that evening, and it was now working its magic around his mind. At one point, he thought he heard Tomoyo sing, but he was not certain whether it was just his overtaxed imagination or the vine playing with him. Everything felt like a dream.
He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and turned to the source of the touch. It was Tomoyo; he was right, she did look stunning in her new garments. A soft peach robe coming off of one shoulder. The fire was sending a pretty display of light dancing across her cherub-like face, making her look like one of the fair folk. Her hair framing her pale face and enhancing her dark eyes to the point of almost sinful beauty.
"Eriol, we need to leave this place," she said quietly near his right ear. Eriol shivered at the warmth of her breath against his neck, shifting the fine hairs on his nape; the sensation felt positively delightful. A small smile graced his mouth; she sounded ethereal, too. Nodding slightly, he drifted into a light sleep, a creature of infinite beauty beside him.
..... This marks the end of the third instalment: Trials; and thus heralds the start of the
fourth part: Tribulations......
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(1) Casali -- means "Herald of the Shadow" in Elvish
(2) Solaer, Solaro and Solitae -- "Memory of Song", "Memory of Summer" and "Memory of Love" in Elvish (in that order)
(3) Decepio -- Lies/ deception in Latin. It is also referred to as the Mirror of Praeterita Tempus (Past Time in Latin)
Sorry this came out so late, but I've been swamped with art homework. I suggest that curls should be outlawed --- they're just too damn hard to draw. Also, sorry for any OOC-ness or plot confusions. Note to Kita: you've seen me draw, so tell me, should I do the character sketches or what? You'd finally see the cute bad guy.