DISCLAIMER: I do not own Cardcaptors, or anything of Nelvana's. The only things I own is all the Cards I created.

I know it may sound repetitive and boring, but continue reading, PLEASE!

Chapter 1: Not a Ordinary Girl

She wasn't ordinary, that is for certain, nor she was extraordinary, or special. She was a freak, a weirdo or any other names that fit this creature, her. Her mother, Opal, was not ordinary too. No one knew how her father fell in love with her. Maybe it was an rash act of passion, or maybe a real relationship. No matter what, Opal died when she was born. Her father became resentful to her. Every time he talked to her, it was in a fit of anger. Every word, every sound, filled with contempt.

He often forgot to feed her. He barely knew she was there. He went in, out, everywhere, but never to her. She knew this, and she also did not want to be noticed. The last time that happened was when he lost his job and he beat the hell out of her. She gingerly touched her broken tooth in memory of that incident.

"Come with me."

It was the first time. She did not know why did the man ask her to follow him. He never did that before. She followed in fear. He drove her around. He told her she had to go to school, for she took away a part of his taxes. He grunted in anger.

"You cause me so much trouble."

They walked. She was surprised—she knew he would not even care about her, no matter what, why the change now. He suddenly kicked the little sparrow by the road. She stopped and looked at the little sparrow as he walked on.

"Poor poor sparrow."

She looked as its blood spilled onto the pavement. He was dead. A few other sparrows moved in around the dead little sparrow. She smiled. At least you have someone to care for you. However, at that thought, the 'dead' sparrow looked up and chirped in pain.

"Chirp, chirp."

Strangely, she began to understand. Her father started the little bird's pain and it was hers to stop that pain. She reassured the little bird that she would stop the pain. Stop the pain. The other birds hurried her; chirps flew from everywhere. She closed her eyes, put her two fingers on the little bird's neck and cracked it. It was still. No breath, no movement; just still. It was dead. She had stopped its pain.

"Chirp, chirp."

"No need to thank me. I have stopped its pain."

She was lost. Her father left her in this confused dark world. It was late in the night. She sat in a corner and cried. She was not sad that he did not care about her, but sad that no one could stop her pain for her.

"Then, I have to stop it myself."

She looked for weapons, or things to try destroy herself. She tried jumping off the second floor of the nearby skyscraper, but it all resulted in ambulances and hospitals.

"It was an accident. I just fell over..."

She was sick of repeating that same old excuse. She wanted to stop her pain quick and fast; clean and simple. She needed the relief. She needed to be let out. She closed her eyes in agony again and sat in the same corner where she was lost. She grew up, alone and hungry, always depending on food given by others. She used her abnormality to gain sympathy, although she did not like it.

"It is not an abnormality. It is special. It would help me."

She often consoled herself like this. However, she never ever convinced herself with those words. It was a blemish, a dirty spot, a sign of an evil witch, or whatever it was called. However, it was not a spot. It was a horn, like a piece of twig embedded on the left side of her chin.

She also believed that she was sort of a witch. She sometimes managed to move little pieces of junk around, up and down, left and right, but never longer than ten minutes. This was sort of a game to her. She enjoyed it. It was her only recreation. She had no games, no TV, no nothing. Other beggars also kept away from her. They were afraid, afraid of her recreation.

She still regularly helped other little animals by stopping their pain for them, hoping that they would also help her stop her pain. But it never happened. She still lived on. She once tried to stop her pain by not eating, but it did not kill her. After a few months, she began eating again. Her blemish often grew bigger when she did not eat, and it was irritating.

She liked talking to other animals too. Birds, especially, loved her. They often perch on her shoulder, talking to her, and playing with her. There was one, which was very motherly to her, and that motherly crow's name was Xeropis.

She had no name. She just existed. Slowly, after many attempts to stop the incessant pain, she decided to live with it. It was almost impossible to stop her pain, and she gave up. She began to want an identity, an existence, a name. She asked Xeropis to name her. The old crow was more than happy, and named her Ryisphal. After a few days of the naming, Xeropis died. Ryisphal gave it a nice burial, with a daisy on it.

"Bye Mother."

She was dubbed the healer, by the birds, as she helped some of them to stop their pain, but she was far from that to the humans. Sadistic, perverted, these comments flew with much hate and contempt to her, when they see her healing the animals' pain. She wanted so much to fly, to be a bird, to be free from the cruel human world. She did not want to be human.

It was like any other day. She again practised her special power, playing around with tiny bottle caps surrounding the trashy place where she lived, when a guy around her age walked in. She looked at him cautiously.

"Alms?"

He laughed.

"Ryisphal aren't you? Come with me and hone your magic. You have much to know, and much to learn."

He was Brendan.