Disclaimer: CCS isn't mine, though Yue is.
Author's note(s): Finally, I have a chance to update. I'm sorry for the incredibly long wait. -flinches at the four month period- I promise. . . I wanted to update. -sighs- Anyway. Enjoy.
****
Sakura sighed impatiently and shifted in her bed. After but a moment, she gave a loud growl and turned on her other side, knocking a pillow off in her frustrated motions.
Three bedridden days had passed, and she was growing restless. Nearly screaming from boredom, she shot upright in her bed, looking for something to throw. She wished, fervently, that Toby would show.
After so much time to plan her army's best moves, she was anxious to have them delivered. She began fingering her necklace, halfheartedly wondering if she could summon Toby by sheer will.
Sakura was so desperate she stopped to assess this idea before shoving it away angrily and sinking back down.
The sudden opening of the door sent her straight upright in bed, half wondering whether her prayers had been answered. The person she saw instead was a servant, though not the same one she'd had before. This girl carried a bowl of broth. Sakura couldn't help but wonder at the sudden change in carriers. Usually the prince brought her meals, and her servant girl merely tidied her room.
The girl bowed, introducing herself in a surprisingly strong voice. "My name is Venga," she said simply, and carried the bowl closer to Sakura, pulling the stand closer, so that she might use it as a table.
Sakura eyed the girl's neck, checking for the telltale turtle necklace Toby had mentioned. She was saddened to find no such trinket.
The smell of the broth soon lifted her spirits. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. As she swung her body, she asked her question.
"Is the other girl on break?"
Venga tensed slightly at the question, a movement Sakura noted. Her gaze swung up to the girl's face, her eyes narrowing. "Answer me," she demanded. "Where is the other girl?"
When she received no answer, she reached out tentatively with her mind. Though Yue was a master at it, she was only a beginner. She could only detect thoughts from those without magic.
Her mind's eye caught an image of her old servant crumpled in a corner. She was searching deeper when a sudden bolt of blue magic pushed her from Venga's mind. She reeled backwards, instantly using some of her magic to cool the burning pain in her head.
The sound of fleeting footsteps brought her back quickly and she flung some of her own magic at the retreating servant, freezing her to her current position.
Sakura fought to free herself from the tangled covers, trying desperately to remove herself from the bed.
Her legs were swinging over the side when the door opened and Syaoran entered, carrying his own bowl of broth. He was speaking. "-sorry Sakura, I got tied up in meetings. I hope you aren't too hung--"
He froze when he noticed the servant. His gaze immediately turned questioning. Ignoring him, Sakura used her magic to force Venga to walk back towards her. She saw the strain in the other girl's eyes as she fought to resist the magic. Adding more power to her spell, Sakura waited until the girl was close enough.
She motioned toward the bowl. "Why did you bring me this?"
When she received nothing more than a defiant look, she sent herself back into the girl's thoughts, quickly finding an image of Venga tipping a vial into the bowl. A stronger bolt of blue magic sent her from the girl's mind again. This time, Sakura felt her body thrown backwards. She was suddenly very thankful for the soft mattress beneath her.
Cursing the girl profusely, and shaking off the worried arms of Syaoran, she glared at Venga. "Stop it!" she yelled. "You have no magic; who is helping you?!"
Again receiving nothing but a glare, she flung her hand out, upsetting the bowl. It smashed to the floor, and Sakura watched as the contents bubbled. She half expected the floor to rot away.
Her eyes locked onto the servant's, and Sakura felt a sudden jolt. She tried to look away, but found herself unable to break the gaze. Slowly a face began to appear in the center of her vision and everything else died away.
The face grew clearer until Sakura was finally able to recognize the sapphire eyes she had beheld at the pass. Her own emerald orbs fought to discern the face hidden in the shadows, but every time she strained forward, she seemed to move farther and farther backwards.
Words reached her ears, and she remembered the taunting voice of the woman.
"You are smart, lady, smarter than I had assumed. But though you may not fall to my poison, you will fall nonetheless," she said, her eyes intense upon Sakura.
She frowned, searching still. A question burst unbidden from her lips. "Why would I fall to you?"
Malice was in the eyes. "Because you have chosen the wrong side."
Sakura felt a blast of power that made her dizzy. Her head was spinning, but still she fought to see the face. The face was her lifeline-if only she could see it, she would know what she was fighting. Without it, she could do nothing.
She pumped magic into her veins, feeling its warmth. Its power gave her strength; she felt hope. Parting with a portion, she sent it straight toward the eyes. The sapphire orbs widened in shock in the moment before Sakura's magic hit.
Pain broke into the eyes just before another bolt of blue magic came hurtling toward the champion. Her own magic absorbed most of it, and she felt no more than a brief shock. Sakura pumped more of her magic into her veins, silently thanking the gods who had bestowed so much power into her.
She realized with a shock the face was slowly disappearing.
"I must leave now, lady champion. We shall meet soon."
Letting out a final cry, Sakura sent a great spiral of magic forward. The eyes writhed in pain before disappearing totally.
Suddenly, Sakura was aware of her surroundings again. The gentle pull of the magic in her veins gave her the strength to stay upright in her bed. Syaoran's supporting arms also served their purpose. Sakura looked up into his deep amber eyes, a welcome change from the sapphire ones.
As though afraid of her reaction to his closeness, he gently removed his arms from her. Sakura felt a slight sadness before she turned back to the maid, now careful to avoid her eyes.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice sounding tired to her own ears.
Venga kept her own gaze firmly on the floor. Just when she was beginning to believe the girl a mute, the answer came.
"To please my mistress," she said. The rasp in her voice surprised Sakura.
"And what would please your mistress?" she asked, though the answer was clear enough already.
"Your death."
Beginning to feel faint, she let Syaoran take over the questioning. He asked many of the same questions she found herself wondering. Sakura felt her body beginning to waver towards sleep.
'She won't tell him anything,' she thought, feeling a strong exhaustion take her. 'Why does he insist on questioning her? She will not answer. He should just give up. . . give in. . . it would be. . . much. . . more. . . practical. . .'
Her thoughts blurred into nothing; for the second time in a week, she felt herself shut down. Voices fluttered around, buzzing in her ear. The words were never understandable; she ignored them.
Instead, she delighted in the melting away of her responsibilities. Her pain was gone; so was her fear. All that was left was a feeling of complete bliss. With a dreamy sigh, she reveled in it.
****
Syaoran felt the anger growing in him. This woman, with her servant's attire and steely gaze, was surely sent from the gods to test his resolve. She was his punishment for letting this war go on.
Growling, he repeated one of his earlier questions. "Who do you work for, girl?"
When he received nothing as an answer, he let out a frustrated sigh. He longed for a bowl such as the one Sakura had smashed before, but none was to be found. He forced himself to be calm.
A laugh broke through his concentration. Frowning, he focused on Venga. Her head slowly turned towards him, her eyes filled with a mixture of both mirth and malice.
"You try to protect the girl, prince, and yet you have done nothing."
Baffled, he moved toward her, slowly so as not to scare her. She continued speaking.
"Has it not dawned upon you that your loud mouthed champion has said not a word for ten minutes?"
His eyes widening as though he'd been hit, he whirled. He rushed over to Sakura, reaching out to shake her from the spellbound sleep she appeared to be caught in. His hands shook her shoulder roughly, increasing in strength when he got no response. Her head rolled backwards, and he suddenly caught sight of her eyes.
His stopped shaking her abruptly, his eyes widening in shock at the look in those orbs. Only in corpses did this look exist.
'But. . . she's still alive. . .' he thought, quickly reaching to take her pulse. Behind her, Venga's voice spoke, full of excitement.
"Oh yes, she is alive now, but not for long. That trance she's in? She won't wake. At least not because of your shaking," she said, obviously quite content at his position.
Unable to decide his next move, he stared at Venga, waiting for her next words.
Smirking at him, she continued. "At least not till you remove the magic."
At her last word, blue flames began to sprout up around her. She dropped her smirk and stared downwards, gaping at the flames. As one touched her foot, she flinched. Her eyes now showed open terror. The flames began to increase in strength, climbing up her legs now. With a speed Syaoran could hardly comprehend, they quickly consumed the rest of her body. She struggled to flee, but Sakura's spell held her in place.
He attempted to fling his own magic at the blue, but it came too late. The woman was crumpling now. Within seconds, her body was disappearing piece by piece. The last to leave were her eyes, the terror frozen in them for all eternity.
****
Sakura felt the heat of magic in her dulled state. The slight rocking stopped, and the heat increased. Her body recognized the blue flames. Her mind reeling, she tried to make her body move backwards, but found herself unable to.
The voices grew louder, trying to lull her back to her sleep. Still, she strained toward the flames, anxious to see what was happening.
Her sight suddenly left her. Her blurred vision of the room was replaced with black. Just as suddenly as the darkness appeared, the flames sprung up around her. She looked around, feeling the warmth of the flames without the pain.
The voices were rising in volume. Sakura listened closely, attempting to discern the identity. Still, they got louder. She winced, suddenly hearing the malice hidden behind each soft, commanding voice. The flames suddenly got very hot, scorching her mind. She tried to close her ears, for the sound was the worst, but could not.
Just when she thought her ears would burst, it all stopped. She heard a voice, a normal voice.
"Lisha, where are you my love?"
Surprise made the flames lose their heat. Taking her chance, Sakura closed her eyes, wishing her return to the room.
Suddenly she was falling. A light gasp escaped her lips as she heard the voices leaving her. The room was returning; it was less blurred now.
Her full perception returned. Sakura felt her muscles, tired of holding her body in the same position. They collapsed, and Sakura's head spun, her mind trying to catch up with the rest of her.
Straining her eyes, she caught the prince's form, staring, transfixed, at a spot on the floor. Wetting her lips, she called out to him. "Syaoran?"
He turned suddenly, eyes widening when he saw her responsive.
"What happened?" she asked faintly.
He shook his head, eyeing her as though she were a ghost.
She frowned, her weakness leaving and anger replacing it. "Stop staring, prince. I'm no ghost."
He eyed her for a moment more before his face finally broke into a grin. "It is you, indeed."
****
Einar stepped back, afraid of the anger in Lisha's eyes.
"Wh-hat?" he stammered, still stepping backwards.
A ball of flame appeared in her palm, and she flung it angrily at Einar.
"Fool! You interrupted me right when I was about to kill the wench!"
Einar shrank from the angry woman, shocked at her words. She continued her angry speech, speaking to the heavens.
"Why do I surround myself with idiots? I do nearly everything, trust them with so few responsibilities, and still they cannot manage to perform them!"
Lisha returned her gaze to Einar, eyes brimming with fury. "You were the one who brought me Venga, Einar," she said, her voice dangerously quiet.
It was all he could do to shake his head in agreement.
The fury increased, and with great effort, Lisha forced herself to turn from him. She fought to stifle her anger.
"She was a failure, Einar. Discovered as she delivered the poison," she said simply.
Einar flinched then hurried forward to reassure the sapphire-eyed woman, putting an arm around her. "I will send another woman," he said quickly. "Tomorrow she will have the poison in her veins, my love. Only one more da-- "
The woman shook his arm off. "The prince won't let anyone else near her, fool. This was our one chance."
Einar paused before speaking. "Did you not say you had almost killed her? Why can't you do it again?"
Lisha's eyes cooled. "I will do it, Einar. She still has the magic on her clothing, though that idiot hinted at it. Soon enough, she will succumb again. And this time I will be ready for her."
Einar smiled, still nervous.
****
Sakura's curses rang through the darkness. She was back to where she had started-bedridden. And all because of that damned sapphire-eyed woman.
'Lisha,' she corrected herself. At least she knew her name.
She spent a long time considering the woman before her thoughts turned to plotting her death. She had come up with sixty seven different ways, each more colorful than the last, before her thoughts began to become blurry.
The name resounded in her mind as she felt her body falling back into the darkness. Sleep soon claimed her.
'Yue's arrow hit my shoulder. I flinched, dropping my own bow in order
to clutch my wound. I drew in a ragged breath, and fingered my wound
lightly, flinching from my light touch. My fingers felt something
sticky; something red. My eyes widened in shock. Blood. Yue's arrows
had never drawn blood before.
A flurry of wings caught my attention, and I looked up. An arrow was
fixed on me. I looked down, realizing its aim was for my heart.
I caught Yue's eyes. They were cold, unconcerned. It scared me.
Holding my hands up, I called out in a shaky voice, "You got me, Yue.
You win."
There was no answer. His eyes remained cold; the arrow nocked. I
opened my mouth to speak again, but it was Yue's voice that rung out.
"This is not a game, lady. And it is not yet over. What would you do
next?"
Eyebrows knit in confusion, I opened my mouth to respond. Again, Yue
interrupted me.
"I don't want words, Sakura. Show me what you would do."
I watched in horror as his finger moved. Throwing myself to the side,
I felt a second arrow clip me. This one hit the left side of my chest,
burying itself deep inside my flesh.
I heard him reaching for another arrow, and looked up, frozen in
place. His eyes remained cold and distant.
Before he could release his third arrow, I threw myself to the side
and began running. My wounds were now burning, but I ignored them. The
arrow zipped just above my shoulder. Cursing, I realized my bow was
lying in the dirt around his feet.
Hating to use magic, I called to it. Thankfully, my quiver was still
fastened securely to my back. Just as the bow fell into my hand, an
arrow whisked to my left. Running straight for the cover of the trees,
I pulled an arrow from my bow. It was painful to draw it; my shoulder
was now on fire. Yet I knew I must draw it. Yue's eyes sought for me.
Finding me finally, he opened his wings and set off towards me. He let
his bow drop, knowing the trees would hinder the arrow.
When he was close enough, I called to the trees. They were my friends.
Their spirits recognized mine; loved mine. I greeted them warmly then
requested their help. The wind also aided me.
Using my magic, I parted the trees. Sweat gathered upon my brow; this
task was not easy. Yue's eyes widened in shock; he was suddenly open
to attack. I shot his wing, bringing him down. For the moment, he
could not shoot. Instead, he must direction his attention toward
landing. Moving quickly, I drew another arrow.
Yue landed and spared a glance at his wing. His head swung up,
detecting my approach. The arrow was aimed once again at my heart. His
eyes widened in shock when he saw my own arrow. Its position mirrored
his own, and though my shoulder burned, my fingers did not shake.
"You would die, Sakura," he said.
"I would not be alone," I responded.
A proud glint took over his eyes. Suddenly my wounds felt much better;
their worth was increased.
A roar rang through the courtyard, and we both turned to accept Kero's
worried lecture.'
Light footsteps jerked her awake. She looked up, chastising herself for falling asleep so easily. Sakura found herself looking at Syaoran, who had obviously not meant to wake her. She frowned, tired of his mothering attitude already. She did not need him watching her like a nervous hen. To show him such, she quickly swung her body around and started to stand.
Just as she knew he would, he jumped forward and began to push her back down. Growling angrily, she used her strong arms in an attempt to push him away. Forgetting what this might mean, she let out a gasp of pain as the bracelet punished her in kind.
Catching another of Syaoran's worried looks, she quickly forgot the pain and glared at him.
"I think I liked you better before. What happened to your 'holier than thou' attitude, prince?" she growled, quickly forgetting their temporary friendship in her grumpiness.
Syaoran blinked before his expression grew more severe. "Well, at least now I know not to wake you anymore," he mumbled, and started towards his own room.
Sakura let out a content sigh, realizing she was indeed rather grumpy. 'Serves him right,' she decided. 'He shouldn't have been sneaking up on me like that.'
She was pushing her body from the bed when she heard loud bangs in the next room. Startled, she managed to stumble through the adjoining door and into her host's room. She cocked an eyebrow at him when she saw the mess surrounding him. About to comment on his clumsiness, she suddenly noticed the large sword in his hand. Drawing back at the sight, she instinctively reached for her own sword. It was still lying on the table, uselessly decorating the side of her bed.
Syaoran's eyes caught the movement, and he smiled wryly. "You still do not trust me."
Slightly abashed, but not willing to show such, she raised an eyebrow. "Should I? You have a sword."
He let out a frustrated sigh and started towards her. She forced herself not to back away.
"I am not going to hurt you, Sakura! I only meant to practice!" he said, his eyes intense. He turned away. "If you cannot trust me, how are we to work together?"
Sakura winced, feeling slightly ashamed, but did not answer.
Still she stood in the doorway. He kneeled, cleaning up the fallen shelf, seemingly unaware of her lingering presence. She moved forward, kneeling beside him. Wordlessly, she helped him pick up his belongings. After a moment of staring, he joined her. Soon enough, the room was clean and Sakura started back towards her own room.
His voice stopped her. "Thank you."
She waved a hand carelessly, closing the door behind her.
****
Sweat poured down his brow. He let it fall, concentrating on his quick thrusts. Parrying the imaginary attack, he let his sword swoop downwards, attempting to cut his opponent's legs. Lifting his sword again, he struck the final blow in his dance and halted. The air was still-- dead.
Sighing, he reached for his towel. Something was bothering him. As he wiped himself, he pondered over the woman's words.
'At least not till you remove the magic,' she had said. But what could that mean? Scowling, he dropped his towel and started back toward the center of his ring.
He bowed to the air, imagining an opponent in his mind's eye. This time, instead of the usual brawny men, he pictured a beauty; brunette with captive emerald eyes and a figure full of curves and strength. He had fought with her already; they were even in their scores.
He almost winced, remembering the ending to their last match. Still, he raised his sword, preparing for the first move of his dance. He pictured his opponent doing the same.
With flawless grace, he swung his sword downward. It was parried; he pulled back, now defensive. He jumped backwards-the next step of his practice dance. The dance had become natural. His thoughts returned to Venga's words.
'At least not till you remove the magic.' He lunged forward, the tip of his sword falling toward his opponent's ribs.
'Remove the magic. . . her magic?' he pondered. He raised his sword, defending himself for this step.
'Could her own magic be poisoned?' He feinted left.
'How could someone poison her magic? She didn't eat the soup.' He sidled past his opponent's blade, setting his feet up for his next strike.
'And how could I removed her own magic? It's part of her. . .' He feinted right again, biding his time.
'. . . someone else's magic then?' He raised his sword upward, blocking the imaginary strike.
'The blue magic that caught Venga,' he realized. The realization caused him to miss his next strike. Instead, he stepped backwards, skipping to the next step.
'. . . but where is it?' He jumped forward, his sword moving downward to meet his opponent's hips. The blow would be crippling if it landed.
'It must be removed, or her trance will last forever.' He parried the blow.
'But she broke the trance.' He stepped forward, closer to his opponent.
'The magic was not removed.' He moved his arm higher, steeling himself for the ending blow.
'She will go into another trance, and this time she won't wake.' His arm carried the sword in a slashing motion, starting from the depths of the opponent's belly and moving its way up to decapitate the victim. His imagined opponent stood still, unmoving in his mind's eye. Her emerald orbs called to him, and he could not bring himself to finish the move.
He sheathed his sword and turned away from the ring.
'I must find the magic. Before she falls into a trance,' he decided.
With one last look at the practice ring, he set off at a run.
****
She plunged her face into the bowl, enjoying the cool. The water quickly worked to remove the remains of soap from her face. She closed her eyes; she hadn't realized how much she missed swimming. She'd ask the prince to take her swimming one day; her spirit missed water.
She heard a loud clash. Startled, she pulled her face from the bowl, reaching for the nearby towel to dry her face with. The prince's wide-eyed expression greeted her.
She frowned at him and began to dry the small puddle his interruption had led her to cause.
His voice was anxious. "There's something on you."
She smirked. "I know. Dirt. That's why I was washing."
"No, magic. Blue magic," he said hurriedly. Sakura looked up in alarm, and took in his eyes as they scanned anxiously over her form.
"It must be on your clothes," he continued. "Take them off."
He moved forward as though to help, then thought better of it. She glared at him. "What are you talking about?"
Syaoran started toward his own room, and Sakura was forced to follow. He dropped to his knees in front of his dresser and began looking through it. "Venga. She said you would be in that trance until the magic was removed."
Sakura felt her blood drain. She hadn't told him about it, despite his urging her to. "What are you talking about?" she repeated, her voice now intense.
He looked up from his drawer. "She told me, Sakura. There's something on you. I think it's on your clothes."
Finally finding what he wanted, he shoved a handful of his own clothes at her. "Here. Go change."
Sakura stared at him for a moment, until he stood and turned her back toward her own room. With a push, he sent her inside and closed the door.
She looked down at the handful for a moment before making up her mind.
'Something made me go into that trance, and I want it gone,' she told herself firmly, and began dressing.
****
Syaoran looked up when he heard the door open. Sakura stumbled through the doorway, nearly tripping on the legs of his pants. He almost laughed when he saw her. Such a tiny figure clad in a grown man's clothing.
She shot him a glare and tossed over her old clothes. He caught them, mirth still causing his eyes to twinkle. After another glare, she crossed the room, leaning over the clothes he now held in his hands.
"I can feel magic on them," she said, "but it could just be mine."
He nodded and began scanning. A laugh brought him from his work.
"There's an easier way, Syaoran," she said, taunting him lightly. Her eyes now sparkled with their own mirth. She reached out a hand and lightly grabbed the clothing from him.
Dropping it onto the ground, she moved back from it, and bid he do the same.
Once they were both safely distanced from the pile, she called forth a large ball of magic. Syaoran eyed her, startled at the amount of magic she could call so easily.
'So the reports are true,' he realized, 'she has more magic than I do.'
Her fingers flicked the ball lightly, and it went crashing straight toward the clothes. Syaoran felt a sudden panic.
"Sakura, don't destroy--"
The clothes erupted immediately, leaving the wood beneath them scorched. Syaoran groaned. "Great, Sakura. Now we have nothing to examine."
He noticed Sakura moving towards the destroyed floor-she kneeled, her brows knit in concentration. Suddenly, her face lit up in triumph. She beckoned to him.
Syaoran moved forward, kneeling beside her. She pointed to something on the floor. As he strained his eyes, he saw a small piece of blue magic. Just when he was sure he had seen it, it vanished.
Sakura smiled. "She knows we've found it."
Syaoran sighed and stood. "Who is she, Sakura?"
She stood, turning to him. Her eyes were now serious. "I think her name is Lisha. She's a sorceress-she was at the pass, and I saw her before. I think she commanded Venga."
Syaoran frowned, taking the information in. "She doesn't want the war stopped," he said slowly.
Sakura nodded, and the two were left in silence, each pondering upon their own deep thoughts.
Sakura's laugh broke through. Syaoran glanced at her, his eyebrows raised in a question.
When she spoke, her words were gently taunting. "At least you're not mothering me anymore."
Syaoran started to scowl, which caused her laughter to increase. As he looked upon the laughing figure, he felt a grin begin to form upon his own lips. Soon, the room was filled with good-natured laughter.
****
Author's Note2: That was long, no? I now have a new record, lol. ;) Hope you enjoyed it.
Author's note(s): Finally, I have a chance to update. I'm sorry for the incredibly long wait. -flinches at the four month period- I promise. . . I wanted to update. -sighs- Anyway. Enjoy.
****
Sakura sighed impatiently and shifted in her bed. After but a moment, she gave a loud growl and turned on her other side, knocking a pillow off in her frustrated motions.
Three bedridden days had passed, and she was growing restless. Nearly screaming from boredom, she shot upright in her bed, looking for something to throw. She wished, fervently, that Toby would show.
After so much time to plan her army's best moves, she was anxious to have them delivered. She began fingering her necklace, halfheartedly wondering if she could summon Toby by sheer will.
Sakura was so desperate she stopped to assess this idea before shoving it away angrily and sinking back down.
The sudden opening of the door sent her straight upright in bed, half wondering whether her prayers had been answered. The person she saw instead was a servant, though not the same one she'd had before. This girl carried a bowl of broth. Sakura couldn't help but wonder at the sudden change in carriers. Usually the prince brought her meals, and her servant girl merely tidied her room.
The girl bowed, introducing herself in a surprisingly strong voice. "My name is Venga," she said simply, and carried the bowl closer to Sakura, pulling the stand closer, so that she might use it as a table.
Sakura eyed the girl's neck, checking for the telltale turtle necklace Toby had mentioned. She was saddened to find no such trinket.
The smell of the broth soon lifted her spirits. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. As she swung her body, she asked her question.
"Is the other girl on break?"
Venga tensed slightly at the question, a movement Sakura noted. Her gaze swung up to the girl's face, her eyes narrowing. "Answer me," she demanded. "Where is the other girl?"
When she received no answer, she reached out tentatively with her mind. Though Yue was a master at it, she was only a beginner. She could only detect thoughts from those without magic.
Her mind's eye caught an image of her old servant crumpled in a corner. She was searching deeper when a sudden bolt of blue magic pushed her from Venga's mind. She reeled backwards, instantly using some of her magic to cool the burning pain in her head.
The sound of fleeting footsteps brought her back quickly and she flung some of her own magic at the retreating servant, freezing her to her current position.
Sakura fought to free herself from the tangled covers, trying desperately to remove herself from the bed.
Her legs were swinging over the side when the door opened and Syaoran entered, carrying his own bowl of broth. He was speaking. "-sorry Sakura, I got tied up in meetings. I hope you aren't too hung--"
He froze when he noticed the servant. His gaze immediately turned questioning. Ignoring him, Sakura used her magic to force Venga to walk back towards her. She saw the strain in the other girl's eyes as she fought to resist the magic. Adding more power to her spell, Sakura waited until the girl was close enough.
She motioned toward the bowl. "Why did you bring me this?"
When she received nothing more than a defiant look, she sent herself back into the girl's thoughts, quickly finding an image of Venga tipping a vial into the bowl. A stronger bolt of blue magic sent her from the girl's mind again. This time, Sakura felt her body thrown backwards. She was suddenly very thankful for the soft mattress beneath her.
Cursing the girl profusely, and shaking off the worried arms of Syaoran, she glared at Venga. "Stop it!" she yelled. "You have no magic; who is helping you?!"
Again receiving nothing but a glare, she flung her hand out, upsetting the bowl. It smashed to the floor, and Sakura watched as the contents bubbled. She half expected the floor to rot away.
Her eyes locked onto the servant's, and Sakura felt a sudden jolt. She tried to look away, but found herself unable to break the gaze. Slowly a face began to appear in the center of her vision and everything else died away.
The face grew clearer until Sakura was finally able to recognize the sapphire eyes she had beheld at the pass. Her own emerald orbs fought to discern the face hidden in the shadows, but every time she strained forward, she seemed to move farther and farther backwards.
Words reached her ears, and she remembered the taunting voice of the woman.
"You are smart, lady, smarter than I had assumed. But though you may not fall to my poison, you will fall nonetheless," she said, her eyes intense upon Sakura.
She frowned, searching still. A question burst unbidden from her lips. "Why would I fall to you?"
Malice was in the eyes. "Because you have chosen the wrong side."
Sakura felt a blast of power that made her dizzy. Her head was spinning, but still she fought to see the face. The face was her lifeline-if only she could see it, she would know what she was fighting. Without it, she could do nothing.
She pumped magic into her veins, feeling its warmth. Its power gave her strength; she felt hope. Parting with a portion, she sent it straight toward the eyes. The sapphire orbs widened in shock in the moment before Sakura's magic hit.
Pain broke into the eyes just before another bolt of blue magic came hurtling toward the champion. Her own magic absorbed most of it, and she felt no more than a brief shock. Sakura pumped more of her magic into her veins, silently thanking the gods who had bestowed so much power into her.
She realized with a shock the face was slowly disappearing.
"I must leave now, lady champion. We shall meet soon."
Letting out a final cry, Sakura sent a great spiral of magic forward. The eyes writhed in pain before disappearing totally.
Suddenly, Sakura was aware of her surroundings again. The gentle pull of the magic in her veins gave her the strength to stay upright in her bed. Syaoran's supporting arms also served their purpose. Sakura looked up into his deep amber eyes, a welcome change from the sapphire ones.
As though afraid of her reaction to his closeness, he gently removed his arms from her. Sakura felt a slight sadness before she turned back to the maid, now careful to avoid her eyes.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice sounding tired to her own ears.
Venga kept her own gaze firmly on the floor. Just when she was beginning to believe the girl a mute, the answer came.
"To please my mistress," she said. The rasp in her voice surprised Sakura.
"And what would please your mistress?" she asked, though the answer was clear enough already.
"Your death."
Beginning to feel faint, she let Syaoran take over the questioning. He asked many of the same questions she found herself wondering. Sakura felt her body beginning to waver towards sleep.
'She won't tell him anything,' she thought, feeling a strong exhaustion take her. 'Why does he insist on questioning her? She will not answer. He should just give up. . . give in. . . it would be. . . much. . . more. . . practical. . .'
Her thoughts blurred into nothing; for the second time in a week, she felt herself shut down. Voices fluttered around, buzzing in her ear. The words were never understandable; she ignored them.
Instead, she delighted in the melting away of her responsibilities. Her pain was gone; so was her fear. All that was left was a feeling of complete bliss. With a dreamy sigh, she reveled in it.
****
Syaoran felt the anger growing in him. This woman, with her servant's attire and steely gaze, was surely sent from the gods to test his resolve. She was his punishment for letting this war go on.
Growling, he repeated one of his earlier questions. "Who do you work for, girl?"
When he received nothing as an answer, he let out a frustrated sigh. He longed for a bowl such as the one Sakura had smashed before, but none was to be found. He forced himself to be calm.
A laugh broke through his concentration. Frowning, he focused on Venga. Her head slowly turned towards him, her eyes filled with a mixture of both mirth and malice.
"You try to protect the girl, prince, and yet you have done nothing."
Baffled, he moved toward her, slowly so as not to scare her. She continued speaking.
"Has it not dawned upon you that your loud mouthed champion has said not a word for ten minutes?"
His eyes widening as though he'd been hit, he whirled. He rushed over to Sakura, reaching out to shake her from the spellbound sleep she appeared to be caught in. His hands shook her shoulder roughly, increasing in strength when he got no response. Her head rolled backwards, and he suddenly caught sight of her eyes.
His stopped shaking her abruptly, his eyes widening in shock at the look in those orbs. Only in corpses did this look exist.
'But. . . she's still alive. . .' he thought, quickly reaching to take her pulse. Behind her, Venga's voice spoke, full of excitement.
"Oh yes, she is alive now, but not for long. That trance she's in? She won't wake. At least not because of your shaking," she said, obviously quite content at his position.
Unable to decide his next move, he stared at Venga, waiting for her next words.
Smirking at him, she continued. "At least not till you remove the magic."
At her last word, blue flames began to sprout up around her. She dropped her smirk and stared downwards, gaping at the flames. As one touched her foot, she flinched. Her eyes now showed open terror. The flames began to increase in strength, climbing up her legs now. With a speed Syaoran could hardly comprehend, they quickly consumed the rest of her body. She struggled to flee, but Sakura's spell held her in place.
He attempted to fling his own magic at the blue, but it came too late. The woman was crumpling now. Within seconds, her body was disappearing piece by piece. The last to leave were her eyes, the terror frozen in them for all eternity.
****
Sakura felt the heat of magic in her dulled state. The slight rocking stopped, and the heat increased. Her body recognized the blue flames. Her mind reeling, she tried to make her body move backwards, but found herself unable to.
The voices grew louder, trying to lull her back to her sleep. Still, she strained toward the flames, anxious to see what was happening.
Her sight suddenly left her. Her blurred vision of the room was replaced with black. Just as suddenly as the darkness appeared, the flames sprung up around her. She looked around, feeling the warmth of the flames without the pain.
The voices were rising in volume. Sakura listened closely, attempting to discern the identity. Still, they got louder. She winced, suddenly hearing the malice hidden behind each soft, commanding voice. The flames suddenly got very hot, scorching her mind. She tried to close her ears, for the sound was the worst, but could not.
Just when she thought her ears would burst, it all stopped. She heard a voice, a normal voice.
"Lisha, where are you my love?"
Surprise made the flames lose their heat. Taking her chance, Sakura closed her eyes, wishing her return to the room.
Suddenly she was falling. A light gasp escaped her lips as she heard the voices leaving her. The room was returning; it was less blurred now.
Her full perception returned. Sakura felt her muscles, tired of holding her body in the same position. They collapsed, and Sakura's head spun, her mind trying to catch up with the rest of her.
Straining her eyes, she caught the prince's form, staring, transfixed, at a spot on the floor. Wetting her lips, she called out to him. "Syaoran?"
He turned suddenly, eyes widening when he saw her responsive.
"What happened?" she asked faintly.
He shook his head, eyeing her as though she were a ghost.
She frowned, her weakness leaving and anger replacing it. "Stop staring, prince. I'm no ghost."
He eyed her for a moment more before his face finally broke into a grin. "It is you, indeed."
****
Einar stepped back, afraid of the anger in Lisha's eyes.
"Wh-hat?" he stammered, still stepping backwards.
A ball of flame appeared in her palm, and she flung it angrily at Einar.
"Fool! You interrupted me right when I was about to kill the wench!"
Einar shrank from the angry woman, shocked at her words. She continued her angry speech, speaking to the heavens.
"Why do I surround myself with idiots? I do nearly everything, trust them with so few responsibilities, and still they cannot manage to perform them!"
Lisha returned her gaze to Einar, eyes brimming with fury. "You were the one who brought me Venga, Einar," she said, her voice dangerously quiet.
It was all he could do to shake his head in agreement.
The fury increased, and with great effort, Lisha forced herself to turn from him. She fought to stifle her anger.
"She was a failure, Einar. Discovered as she delivered the poison," she said simply.
Einar flinched then hurried forward to reassure the sapphire-eyed woman, putting an arm around her. "I will send another woman," he said quickly. "Tomorrow she will have the poison in her veins, my love. Only one more da-- "
The woman shook his arm off. "The prince won't let anyone else near her, fool. This was our one chance."
Einar paused before speaking. "Did you not say you had almost killed her? Why can't you do it again?"
Lisha's eyes cooled. "I will do it, Einar. She still has the magic on her clothing, though that idiot hinted at it. Soon enough, she will succumb again. And this time I will be ready for her."
Einar smiled, still nervous.
****
Sakura's curses rang through the darkness. She was back to where she had started-bedridden. And all because of that damned sapphire-eyed woman.
'Lisha,' she corrected herself. At least she knew her name.
She spent a long time considering the woman before her thoughts turned to plotting her death. She had come up with sixty seven different ways, each more colorful than the last, before her thoughts began to become blurry.
The name resounded in her mind as she felt her body falling back into the darkness. Sleep soon claimed her.
'Yue's arrow hit my shoulder. I flinched, dropping my own bow in order
to clutch my wound. I drew in a ragged breath, and fingered my wound
lightly, flinching from my light touch. My fingers felt something
sticky; something red. My eyes widened in shock. Blood. Yue's arrows
had never drawn blood before.
A flurry of wings caught my attention, and I looked up. An arrow was
fixed on me. I looked down, realizing its aim was for my heart.
I caught Yue's eyes. They were cold, unconcerned. It scared me.
Holding my hands up, I called out in a shaky voice, "You got me, Yue.
You win."
There was no answer. His eyes remained cold; the arrow nocked. I
opened my mouth to speak again, but it was Yue's voice that rung out.
"This is not a game, lady. And it is not yet over. What would you do
next?"
Eyebrows knit in confusion, I opened my mouth to respond. Again, Yue
interrupted me.
"I don't want words, Sakura. Show me what you would do."
I watched in horror as his finger moved. Throwing myself to the side,
I felt a second arrow clip me. This one hit the left side of my chest,
burying itself deep inside my flesh.
I heard him reaching for another arrow, and looked up, frozen in
place. His eyes remained cold and distant.
Before he could release his third arrow, I threw myself to the side
and began running. My wounds were now burning, but I ignored them. The
arrow zipped just above my shoulder. Cursing, I realized my bow was
lying in the dirt around his feet.
Hating to use magic, I called to it. Thankfully, my quiver was still
fastened securely to my back. Just as the bow fell into my hand, an
arrow whisked to my left. Running straight for the cover of the trees,
I pulled an arrow from my bow. It was painful to draw it; my shoulder
was now on fire. Yet I knew I must draw it. Yue's eyes sought for me.
Finding me finally, he opened his wings and set off towards me. He let
his bow drop, knowing the trees would hinder the arrow.
When he was close enough, I called to the trees. They were my friends.
Their spirits recognized mine; loved mine. I greeted them warmly then
requested their help. The wind also aided me.
Using my magic, I parted the trees. Sweat gathered upon my brow; this
task was not easy. Yue's eyes widened in shock; he was suddenly open
to attack. I shot his wing, bringing him down. For the moment, he
could not shoot. Instead, he must direction his attention toward
landing. Moving quickly, I drew another arrow.
Yue landed and spared a glance at his wing. His head swung up,
detecting my approach. The arrow was aimed once again at my heart. His
eyes widened in shock when he saw my own arrow. Its position mirrored
his own, and though my shoulder burned, my fingers did not shake.
"You would die, Sakura," he said.
"I would not be alone," I responded.
A proud glint took over his eyes. Suddenly my wounds felt much better;
their worth was increased.
A roar rang through the courtyard, and we both turned to accept Kero's
worried lecture.'
Light footsteps jerked her awake. She looked up, chastising herself for falling asleep so easily. Sakura found herself looking at Syaoran, who had obviously not meant to wake her. She frowned, tired of his mothering attitude already. She did not need him watching her like a nervous hen. To show him such, she quickly swung her body around and started to stand.
Just as she knew he would, he jumped forward and began to push her back down. Growling angrily, she used her strong arms in an attempt to push him away. Forgetting what this might mean, she let out a gasp of pain as the bracelet punished her in kind.
Catching another of Syaoran's worried looks, she quickly forgot the pain and glared at him.
"I think I liked you better before. What happened to your 'holier than thou' attitude, prince?" she growled, quickly forgetting their temporary friendship in her grumpiness.
Syaoran blinked before his expression grew more severe. "Well, at least now I know not to wake you anymore," he mumbled, and started towards his own room.
Sakura let out a content sigh, realizing she was indeed rather grumpy. 'Serves him right,' she decided. 'He shouldn't have been sneaking up on me like that.'
She was pushing her body from the bed when she heard loud bangs in the next room. Startled, she managed to stumble through the adjoining door and into her host's room. She cocked an eyebrow at him when she saw the mess surrounding him. About to comment on his clumsiness, she suddenly noticed the large sword in his hand. Drawing back at the sight, she instinctively reached for her own sword. It was still lying on the table, uselessly decorating the side of her bed.
Syaoran's eyes caught the movement, and he smiled wryly. "You still do not trust me."
Slightly abashed, but not willing to show such, she raised an eyebrow. "Should I? You have a sword."
He let out a frustrated sigh and started towards her. She forced herself not to back away.
"I am not going to hurt you, Sakura! I only meant to practice!" he said, his eyes intense. He turned away. "If you cannot trust me, how are we to work together?"
Sakura winced, feeling slightly ashamed, but did not answer.
Still she stood in the doorway. He kneeled, cleaning up the fallen shelf, seemingly unaware of her lingering presence. She moved forward, kneeling beside him. Wordlessly, she helped him pick up his belongings. After a moment of staring, he joined her. Soon enough, the room was clean and Sakura started back towards her own room.
His voice stopped her. "Thank you."
She waved a hand carelessly, closing the door behind her.
****
Sweat poured down his brow. He let it fall, concentrating on his quick thrusts. Parrying the imaginary attack, he let his sword swoop downwards, attempting to cut his opponent's legs. Lifting his sword again, he struck the final blow in his dance and halted. The air was still-- dead.
Sighing, he reached for his towel. Something was bothering him. As he wiped himself, he pondered over the woman's words.
'At least not till you remove the magic,' she had said. But what could that mean? Scowling, he dropped his towel and started back toward the center of his ring.
He bowed to the air, imagining an opponent in his mind's eye. This time, instead of the usual brawny men, he pictured a beauty; brunette with captive emerald eyes and a figure full of curves and strength. He had fought with her already; they were even in their scores.
He almost winced, remembering the ending to their last match. Still, he raised his sword, preparing for the first move of his dance. He pictured his opponent doing the same.
With flawless grace, he swung his sword downward. It was parried; he pulled back, now defensive. He jumped backwards-the next step of his practice dance. The dance had become natural. His thoughts returned to Venga's words.
'At least not till you remove the magic.' He lunged forward, the tip of his sword falling toward his opponent's ribs.
'Remove the magic. . . her magic?' he pondered. He raised his sword, defending himself for this step.
'Could her own magic be poisoned?' He feinted left.
'How could someone poison her magic? She didn't eat the soup.' He sidled past his opponent's blade, setting his feet up for his next strike.
'And how could I removed her own magic? It's part of her. . .' He feinted right again, biding his time.
'. . . someone else's magic then?' He raised his sword upward, blocking the imaginary strike.
'The blue magic that caught Venga,' he realized. The realization caused him to miss his next strike. Instead, he stepped backwards, skipping to the next step.
'. . . but where is it?' He jumped forward, his sword moving downward to meet his opponent's hips. The blow would be crippling if it landed.
'It must be removed, or her trance will last forever.' He parried the blow.
'But she broke the trance.' He stepped forward, closer to his opponent.
'The magic was not removed.' He moved his arm higher, steeling himself for the ending blow.
'She will go into another trance, and this time she won't wake.' His arm carried the sword in a slashing motion, starting from the depths of the opponent's belly and moving its way up to decapitate the victim. His imagined opponent stood still, unmoving in his mind's eye. Her emerald orbs called to him, and he could not bring himself to finish the move.
He sheathed his sword and turned away from the ring.
'I must find the magic. Before she falls into a trance,' he decided.
With one last look at the practice ring, he set off at a run.
****
She plunged her face into the bowl, enjoying the cool. The water quickly worked to remove the remains of soap from her face. She closed her eyes; she hadn't realized how much she missed swimming. She'd ask the prince to take her swimming one day; her spirit missed water.
She heard a loud clash. Startled, she pulled her face from the bowl, reaching for the nearby towel to dry her face with. The prince's wide-eyed expression greeted her.
She frowned at him and began to dry the small puddle his interruption had led her to cause.
His voice was anxious. "There's something on you."
She smirked. "I know. Dirt. That's why I was washing."
"No, magic. Blue magic," he said hurriedly. Sakura looked up in alarm, and took in his eyes as they scanned anxiously over her form.
"It must be on your clothes," he continued. "Take them off."
He moved forward as though to help, then thought better of it. She glared at him. "What are you talking about?"
Syaoran started toward his own room, and Sakura was forced to follow. He dropped to his knees in front of his dresser and began looking through it. "Venga. She said you would be in that trance until the magic was removed."
Sakura felt her blood drain. She hadn't told him about it, despite his urging her to. "What are you talking about?" she repeated, her voice now intense.
He looked up from his drawer. "She told me, Sakura. There's something on you. I think it's on your clothes."
Finally finding what he wanted, he shoved a handful of his own clothes at her. "Here. Go change."
Sakura stared at him for a moment, until he stood and turned her back toward her own room. With a push, he sent her inside and closed the door.
She looked down at the handful for a moment before making up her mind.
'Something made me go into that trance, and I want it gone,' she told herself firmly, and began dressing.
****
Syaoran looked up when he heard the door open. Sakura stumbled through the doorway, nearly tripping on the legs of his pants. He almost laughed when he saw her. Such a tiny figure clad in a grown man's clothing.
She shot him a glare and tossed over her old clothes. He caught them, mirth still causing his eyes to twinkle. After another glare, she crossed the room, leaning over the clothes he now held in his hands.
"I can feel magic on them," she said, "but it could just be mine."
He nodded and began scanning. A laugh brought him from his work.
"There's an easier way, Syaoran," she said, taunting him lightly. Her eyes now sparkled with their own mirth. She reached out a hand and lightly grabbed the clothing from him.
Dropping it onto the ground, she moved back from it, and bid he do the same.
Once they were both safely distanced from the pile, she called forth a large ball of magic. Syaoran eyed her, startled at the amount of magic she could call so easily.
'So the reports are true,' he realized, 'she has more magic than I do.'
Her fingers flicked the ball lightly, and it went crashing straight toward the clothes. Syaoran felt a sudden panic.
"Sakura, don't destroy--"
The clothes erupted immediately, leaving the wood beneath them scorched. Syaoran groaned. "Great, Sakura. Now we have nothing to examine."
He noticed Sakura moving towards the destroyed floor-she kneeled, her brows knit in concentration. Suddenly, her face lit up in triumph. She beckoned to him.
Syaoran moved forward, kneeling beside her. She pointed to something on the floor. As he strained his eyes, he saw a small piece of blue magic. Just when he was sure he had seen it, it vanished.
Sakura smiled. "She knows we've found it."
Syaoran sighed and stood. "Who is she, Sakura?"
She stood, turning to him. Her eyes were now serious. "I think her name is Lisha. She's a sorceress-she was at the pass, and I saw her before. I think she commanded Venga."
Syaoran frowned, taking the information in. "She doesn't want the war stopped," he said slowly.
Sakura nodded, and the two were left in silence, each pondering upon their own deep thoughts.
Sakura's laugh broke through. Syaoran glanced at her, his eyebrows raised in a question.
When she spoke, her words were gently taunting. "At least you're not mothering me anymore."
Syaoran started to scowl, which caused her laughter to increase. As he looked upon the laughing figure, he felt a grin begin to form upon his own lips. Soon, the room was filled with good-natured laughter.
****
Author's Note2: That was long, no? I now have a new record, lol. ;) Hope you enjoyed it.