Chapter 10: Burnout – Part I

"Li Xiao Lang!"

The words stirred Syaoran's mind harshly to consciousness. Slowly, he lifted his head and opened his eyes groggily. The world blurred as his other senses awakened to make sense of his surroundings. He heard a voice whisper his name next to him and felt a hand prodding him and rocking his body back and forth. That helped to shake of some of the sleepiness and Syaoran's vision finally focused, allowing him to see all his classmates clearly giggling at him. However, the teacher was not so amused. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to ask you not to snore during my class."

Syaoran immediately scrambled to an upright position, earning him more giggles from his classmates. "I'm sorry, Teacher. It won't happen again."

His teacher still looked annoyed but decided to let the matter go and turned her attention back towards the blackboard to continue the lesson, leaving Syaoran to wallow in his embarrassment.

"Damn it." he hissed at himself.

A poke on his arm averted his attention to his bench mate who had shaken him awake just then. "Xiao Lang, are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Sorry for troubling you."

"Are you sure? You don't look well lately. Maybe you should go to the infirmary, just in case."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." Syaoran made a waving gesture and gave a small smile. His bench mate looked unsure but accepted the answer and turned his attention back to the teacher. Syaoran did the same and started jotting down notes, but his mind dwelled on the fact that he had fallen asleep in class, something he had never done before. He knew he was tired but not to this extent. Even his classmates were beginning to notice something was wrong. 'Am I really that worn out?' he thought.

Syaoran got a blunt answer to the question when he met Meiling at lunchtime. "Syaoran, you look terrible."

"Do I really look that bad?"

"You should really mind your appearance more." she replied half-jokingly, then looked at him seriously. "It's that new trainer you got, isn't it? My dad told me about him. Says he's a real tough guy, and not in a good way."

Syaoran could only nod in response. "It's okay. I'll be fine once I adjust." he said to reassure her and secretly to himself. "I've started training by myself, so I'll catch up soon enough."

Meiling frowned deeper at his answer. "Training by yourself?"

"I've been practicing my fighting and magic skills after school. I've only started at the beginning of this week, but I'll try to improve as fast as I can."

"So you've been working yourself to the bone at home as well?!" Meiling exclaimed in surprise. "Geez, no wonder you're so tired all the time. Syaoran, you've got to stop pushing yourself like that!"

"I need to train, Meiling." Syaoran explained. "It's the only way I can improve my abilities. If I do nothing then nothing will change and I'll just keep getting beat up every time."

"Jeez, there you go again. Pushing yourself too hard isn't going to make you stronger. There's limits to how much you can push."

"Well, doing nothing won't make me stronger either. You don't know what it's like, Meiling. Each time I go there I struggle just to stand on my own two feet. I need to work harder if I'm going to have a chance."

"Syaoran, if you keep exerting yourself you'll end up more tired and frustrated. This happened before back in Japan when you were trying to capture the Clow Cards-"

"That was different!" he yelled. "The Cards drained me because my magic wasn't ideally suited to them. This requires nothing of me but to improve the powers I already have."

Meiling slightly jumped, startled at the sudden outburst. Her shocked face immediately disarmed his temper and replaced it with regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout."

Recovering from the shock, Meiling took a deep breath and calmed herself. "No, it's okay. I shouldn't have brought that up so suddenly." She fixed her eyes on him. "Syaoran, I know this must be hard for you, but that's why I don't want you to make things harder on yourself. I mean for God' sake, you're so tired that you can barely concentrate at school. You've never fallen asleep in class until now."

"You heard about that?"

I have friends in your class." she said casually, but the look of concern never left her face. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." Syaoran promised.

Her look told him she wasn't so easily convinced. "You know you can always talk to someone if you want to. Me, Wei, your family, we're here to help you."

"I know and I'm grateful for all of you, but all of you've already done so much. I need to do my part as well." Syaoran had not told her about the incident at his house three days ago. As it is, his mother was currently unavailable and the sisters were busy with Fuutie, who was still in a terrible mood even now, and he didn't want to disturb them yet. Besides Wei, he was out of family members to talk to.

Meiling eyed him curiously. "Do you think it's your fault they're going through this?"

Syaoran's silence answered her question.

"Syaoran, you're in no way responsible for what's happened."

"I wish that were true, but I just can't help feeling that I was the cause of all this."

"Please, Syaoran. Stop blaming yourself for things that are not your fault. If anyone's responsible, it's those pesky Elders. They're the ones who unfairly put this on you."

"You really shouldn't be saying stuff like that, you know." Syaoran reprimanded, but gave a chuckle at her brash comment.

"Why shouldn't I?!" Meiling proclaimed defiantly. "All they do is push people around and make them do things against their will. Why would anyone want to serve people like that?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Hmph, not the way I see it. Look at what they did to you! They were happy to send you away to Tomoeda but when you were no longer useful to them they punished you, even though it was their choice in the first place! The only time they're willing to work together is if it benefits them too."

"You really should control that temper of yours." Syaoran replied half-joking, half-seriously. "You wouldn't want to get caught saying stuff like that at the wrong place and the wrong time."

Meiling dismissed the warning with a wave. "Please, they don't care what I have to say. I'm the daughter of two mages yet I don't have any magical talent at all. As far as they're concerned, I'm already worthless. Even if I get caught, it's not like I'm losing any points in their eyes." She explained curtly and crossed her arms. "Not that I care anyway. I decide what I'm worth, not a bunch of old men. As far as I'm concerned, anyone who can pass judgments on other people's worth so easily like that deserves no respect, no matter what their position."

Syaoran stared at Meiling in surprise. He knew she had a lot of spirit, but he had never seen her so fired up, even on the day he returned to Hong Kong. "You really feel that strongly about this, huh?"

"Damned right, I do. Did you know they basically stopped contact with my parents as soon as they knew I had no magical talent? When they were so willing to cater to them before?" Syaoran shook his head. "Well, it's true. My parents don't talk to me about it, since they didn't want me to feel bad, but I pieced it together from the way they act sometimes on the mention of the Elders and by talking to some of the other Clan children. For a long time, it did get to me. I tried so hard to be accepted and make my parents proud. I trained in martial arts to make up for my inability in magic and tried to involve myself as often as possible, all that to feel accepted. Although to be fair, I also had another, stronger motive." Meiling cast a meaningful glance towards Syaoran, which made him stir when he caught her meaning. Fortunately, she didn't linger on him. Instead, she stood up with a spring in her step. She took a few steps forward and looked at the bright afternoon sky with a smile on her face. "But in the end, I couldn't force myself to fit where I couldn't and I ended up hurting myself more than I should have. So I stopped trying to be something I'm not, and you know what, I haven't felt more free my whole life as I am now. I know who I am and I'm happy with it. No one will ever take that away from me again." Finishing, she took a long deep breath and exhaled it serenely.

Syaoran couldn't help but admire his cousin. The girl standing in front of him had changed considerably from the erratic girl who was constantly seeking his attention. "You're incredible, Meiling." he finally spoke.

Meiling spun around and faced him with a cheerful smile. "My my, so smooth now, are we? Where was this Syaoran all those years ago? You should really save those for Kinomoto." Her smile didn't fade but she took a more serious tone. "That reminds me. Have you been keeping in touch her?"

"Yes, I have." Writing letters to Sakura was now already a part of his weekly routine. He would write to her and would wait in anticipation the reply to hear about her own stories in Tomoeda. It gave him a window into her life and a brief respite from his own.

"Does she know about your problems with the Clan?"

Syaoran shook his head. "No, and that's the way it should be for now." he said firmly. He thought back to the letters they exchanged so far. He was amazed at how constantly cheerful she was in her letters. Every little thing seemed so beautiful in her eyes and that enthusiasm carried through in her letters. Her optimistic personality was a huge part what had endeared her to him in the first place. However, it was also the reason he didn't want her to know about his problems. And so, he kept his worries from her, only ever sharing details of his school life or more trivial things. "She can't do anything about it either. There's no sense in making her worry over nothing."

Meiling looked as if she was about to say something, but relented in the end. "Well, if that's what you think is best then okay. Just remember that you don't have to carry that entire burden by yourself. You can talk to any of us." she stressed again.

"I'll remember that." Syaoran reassured. With that they finished their conversation and packed up their lunches. The walk to their respective classes was mostly silent save for the occasional small talk. When their path separated, Meiling bid him a 'see you later' both of them entered their classrooms. He sat down on his chain. Meiling had given him a lot to think on from her experience with the Clan and the negative outlook towards it's leaders, a view which he didn't share. He had always seen the Elders as powerful and respectable mages in their own right and yet he was learning that they are not what they seem. Even his mother who had been more subdued in showing her feelings voiced her disapproval of them. He wondered how it was he had only picked up on this now and realized that he had never faced their scrutiny before. After all, he was someone who was born with considerable magical power.

This led him to another problem, one that was currently his primary concern. Syaoran looked at his open right hand and clenched it. 'What good is all that magic if I can't use it properly?' he thought glumly. Being outmatched in fighting skill was one thing, but magic was a fundamental part of him as a sorcerer. If he can't master it then what good is he as a mage? 'It's time to try a different approach. I'm getting nowhere as it is now.'

The ringing bell broke through his concentration and his consciousness returned to the classroom. Break time was over. Syaoran rummaged through his bag and took out the books for the next subject and looked around the classroom as his classmates did likewise. His eyes finally fell upon his bench mate, who was eyeing him cautiously. Syaoran immediately realized he must've been brooding in front of him this whole time.

"Are you okay now?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm all better now. Thanks." Syaoran replied.

The boy nodded at the reply and prepared his books. The teacher entered soon after and they began their lesson. The middle-aged man began to teach but Syaoran ignored him and looked towards the window to the direction of his house. His focus was drifting towards a more pressing matter.

The library was by far the largest room inside the mansion compound and was the central room which connected all the different wings. In this way, it reflected it's owner, who placed great importance on the value of knowledge. Yelan had always taught them that knowledge was the most powerful tool a person could have and today, Syaoran hoped it would serve him. So far however it hasn't brought him anything useful yet. He sat at the table where he had talked with his sisters about the letter about a week ago, a problem was relatively simple compared to the one he faced now. Before him lay a collection of books, tomes, and scrolls, all reading material he could find that he thought could help him find the answer to his problem. Right now, he had immersed himself in a book which detailed the effects of the moon on those that draw power from it. Syaoran turned page after page, absorbing and sorting all the information for a lengthy period before his pace slowed. A few seconds later, he put the book down and rubbed his tired eyes.

'Another dead end.' he thought bitterly. The book had started out promising, with details on how the moon's cycles could potentially affect a mage's ability to draw power from it but the further he read the further it deviated from his situation. For a start, it was mostly documented amongst first-time users who were still not used to drawing from the moon, and while he was not an advanced magic user, he was experienced enough to not be considered an amateur. Aside from novice mages, the problem was also documented on those particularly sensitive to the moon's changes but again, he didn't fit the mold. His magic had never been affected by the moon's phase, at least not enough to be significant and the moon's cycles hold less effect during the day, which was when he trained. The resistance he felt back then had felt more internal rather than the effect of some outside force. Syaoran turned to his left and added the book to the pile of reading material he had went through, all of them amounting to nothing. Syaoran exhaled heavily at the sight. He was tired, frustrated, and not making any progress. Nonetheless, something pushed him on. He grabbed a scroll from his selected reading material and untied it with decidedly less enthusiasm. However, his spirit began to slowly return when he started reading the contents. Soon he was completely engaged and reading each word carefully.

'This is it.' This was what he was looking for, something that could help him restore his flow of magic. It was certainly the best lead he had and he could try it out immediately tonight. Syaoran kept himself from getting his hopes up and reminded himself it could fail, but all the same stayed determined. 'This could work. I know it.'

Syaoran waited until the night began to settle to begin, which felt like a long wait for him. The day would normally pass by quick enough as he spent his evenings training his combat skills but he decided to forgo that today to keep his condition as fit as possible before he began. Thus, he passed time as best he could. He returned the books to their respective places first. Yelan would have a fit if even one book was out of place. When that was done, he did his schoolwork of which there was little of since he liked to minimize his workload by doing his homework at school. When that was done, he reviewed the technique he was about to try out. After that failed to make time go faster, he settled on resting in his room. He awoke just in time as the last of the sun was making away to the blue of night. Most importantly, the moon had already shown itself. Syaoran walked outside to the garden and settled on the platform overlooking the city below. He took it all in, the night, the city, the slight breeze which gave a refreshing chill, and the light of the moon that bathed him before beginning.

Syaoran summoned his sword and sat down cross legged in the center of the platform. He balanced his sword by placing it's two ends between his knees. Once he stabilized his sword, he clasped both his hands according to the manual he read. After making sure his stance was correct, he closed his eyes and concentrated.

Within his mind, Syaoran dug deep within himself, making sure to keep his breathing slow and steady. His consciousness settled on a spot somewhere on his chest. This was his center, the place where he drew his magic from. He recalled the countless times he had drawn from it every time he cast a spell and felt it's familiarity. At the same time, he was feeling things he hadn't before. With his increased consciousness, he saw it's image within him; a white sphere of energy that was constantly revolving and pulsating, sending out waves of energy. It sent out a warm feeling within him, as if it were a living being. However, the sensation was not unpleasant but rather felt like a natural part of him he was now aware of, like feeling your own heart beating within your chest.

'So far so good.' With the image fixed in place in his mind, Syaoran slowly started channeling the magic outwards throughout his own body, as he would a spell. However, this time he did not unleash it but focused on extending it evenly throughout his own body. He could feel the magic travelling through pathways inside him, a series of interconnected routes branching out from the center. Some of them felt familiar, while others were new to him. Nonetheless, he did his best to concentrate on every one of them and sensed for signs of resistance. Finding none, he continued and maintained his awareness of his own body as energy filled every part of his being. After a few minutes had gone by, he gradually began to retract his magic inwardly back to the center. Slowly the branches faded as the magic flowed back into his chest until all he felt was the sphere again. Then, he steadied his breath and began outwardly projecting his magic again, this time extending it to his sword as well. Syaoran repeated this back and forth process three times. The fourth time he held his magic distributed throughout his body. He was pleased to find that everything was going smoothly so far.

Now on to the hard part.

Syaoran focused on the space in front of him, about a meter away from his face and used all his concentration to channel his magic there. The ground beneath him glowed and a series of interconnected diagram of writings and symbols which made up his magic circle appeared. He felt currents of magic flowing out from every part of him and the sword to that one spot he was focusing on. Suddenly, a small spark appeared in the space in front of him followed by another, and another until one spark held and stayed there. Syaoran sensed it and poured his focus onto it. Slowly, the spark grew into a small sphere which revolved in place. With each spin, it slowly enlarged itself as more magic poured into it. It finally stopped growing when it reached the size of a fairly large ball, the same size as Syaoran's center.

'It worked.' Syaoran thought inwardly. He couldn't see the result but he could sense that he had achieved what he had set out to do. The scroll had called this an exercise in control and he could see why; it takes immense concentration to consciously disperse of the flow of magic throughout your own body and then refocus it back onto a point outside of the body to project your own center, but when done properly was said to help improve the flow of magic throughout the body. The text recommended the first time to be in the presence of the moon to ease the strain on the magician but even then, he didn't dare to break his attention from the sphere at the risk of it collapsing. Nonetheless, Syaoran felt a sense of satisfaction in accomplishing the technique. In his mind, he could see the magic flow naturally as countless pathways of energy wove threads connecting his center to the projection.

And then one of the threads dissolved.

The shock of the disturbance sent a shockwave throughout the whole network all the way to the projection. It's stable rotation suddenly made way to erratic spinning and it's smooth's surface rippled. Syaoran furrowed and frantically tried to restore balance to the system. He drove his magic to the lost pathway but was unable to project his energy outwards, so he tried to maintain the ones that were still there but it was too late. Like vibrations through a web, other threads slowly became affected by the abrupt change in flow. Some of them faded out completely while others narrowed as less energy flowed through. He struggled against the instability as best as he could, pushing his magic against the invisible resistance, yet the more he pushed the more the threads began to unravel. The resistance came with a vengeance and cut off the pathways rapidly. The sphere, having decreased in size, was now vibrating uncontrollably and it's surface was now fluctuating wildly, being powered by what few threads remain.

'No! Please hold!'

In a sudden rush, the remaining pathways snapped in a single swoop, as if someone physically cut them. The magic retracted back to his center in a rush, which sent reverberations within him. The projection meanwhile vibrated wildly before exploding into little sparks which in turn faded into nothing. Syaoran released his breath in a rush, unaware he'd been holding it this whole time, and panted as his consciousness fully returned to the present world. He began to feel the sensations on his body, the sweat on his brow, the pain on his feet from being in the same position for so long, the pain from forcing his magic throughout his body and a headache from forcing his concentration to the limit.

All of that paled in comparison to the disappointment he felt right now.

"Damn it!" Syaoran hissed. He slammed his fist into the concrete platform, sending waves of pain through his hand. The pain further drove his consciousness and he was now aware that beads of sweat formed on his forehead and his body, staining his clothes. .

'Again.' Syaoran recomposed his position and readied himself. He would not end on such a failure. 'I won't let that happen again-'

"Master Xiao Lang." called a voice behind him.

Syaoran wearily turned to face his butler. Wei was smiling at him patiently with his usual cheerful patience. "Perhaps it would be better to call it a day. It's already past dinnertime, after all."

Syaoran looked at the sky, which had noticeably darkened since he began, and couldn't help but be surprised. He hadn't realized he had already spent a long time outside. 'All that work with nothing to show for it.' he thought grimly. He really wanted to do it again and get better results. Syaoran shifted his gaze from the sky to Wei again, who was waiting with a patient smile.

"All right, I'll head inside." Syaoran relented and stood up as his body reminded him of how strained it was. Even if he pressed on, he felt like he would not achieve a better result. He walked past Wei, who followed behind him to the dinner room. Some food and rest would perhaps lighten his mood from his setback, if only by a little. As it is, levity was currently rare in the house right now.

True enough, Syaoran could feel the heavy air when he entered the dining room. His sisters were already eating their meals, but with none of their usual cheerfulness. He took his seat on the table, the rest barely giving any notice of his presence. He looked around the table to where a second seat besides his mother's lay empty. 'So she's still upset.' Syaoran thought grimly. The bitter aftermath of their mother's parting had still not dissipated yet. Fuutie had practically avoided them since then despite the sisters' attempts to talk to her. With the exception of school, she mostly secluded herself in her room.

"Don't worry, little brother. She'll come around. She just needs a little time to herself." Feimei spoke with feigned cheerfulness.

"Has she spoken to any of you since then?" Syaoran asked.

All three of them shook their heads. "We saw her a few times around the house, but she bolted every time we tried to approach her." Shiefa spoke.

"I see." he responded briefly.

After the brief exchange silence set in again as they ate their food. His food was good as usual, if not a bit cold from being left out for a while, but Syaoran had to admit the tense atmosphere did not help with his appetite. Nevertheless, he wolfed down his food and managed to finish it faster than his sisters despite starting later. He set aside his empty plate and took his leave from the dining room. Walking to his room, he looked at the mansion interior. The shadows seemed to almost enveloped it's entirety, with only a few rays of moonlight piercing the darkness. It made the whole place look unfamiliar to him, like he was a stranger inside the house and it was ready to attack him if he got too close. He knew it was all in his mind, but couldn't help but be slightly uneasy as he walked with a heightened sense of awareness. He was a little embarrassed when he felt relief after entering his room. This space at least felt like his, from the familiar bed, bathroom, and desk, upon which lay a sealed envelope.

Syaoran smiled instinctively. There was only one person it could've been from and his heart beat with excitement that hasn't worn off since he received the first of them. Her letters were something he looked forward to every week, especially with everything that's been going on with his own life. He enjoyed just immersing himself in her words and did exactly that as he opened the letter carefully and read.

Dear Syaoran-kun,

How have you been? It's probably been about a week since your last letter, so I hope you're still doing well! How's your family? I only met them from that time I visited but they were really nice. It must be nice to have such a lively family! We're doing fine here, but I wish Onii-chan would stop bullying me every morning. Even though he's a university student, he's as childish as ever.

I'm glad that school's going fine for you. I wouldn't expect any less from you, Syaoran-kun! We're still studying but with summer break approaching, things are more relaxed right now as we're more focused on the coming town festival. It's going to be big and everyone will be participating, including our school. Onii-chan and Yukito-san's university will also be opening a stand there.

Anyways, our class got selected to be part of the main event. How exciting! We decided on doing a play for our presentation. At first, everyone was really confused about which play we should do but then Naoko-chan said she wanted to write a story for us, so the whole class agreed. If it's Naoko-chan, she'll make something really good. Tomoyo-chan's already offered to design the costumes as expected so that's also covered. I really can't wait. We haven't done a play since last year and everyone did really well last time, especially you, Syaoran-kun. Playing a princess must've been hard, but you did a really good job! We'll definitely do a good job again, I'm sure of it! I only wish you could be here to see it, Syaoran-kun.

That's pretty much everything that's happened this week. By the time, you get this we'll probably be practicing already, so looks like my summer's off to a busy start! Will you be having summer break there as well? Let me know! In the meantime, take care of yourself.

Your dear friend,

Sakura Kinomoto

Syaoran smiled as he reached the name written at the end. It was just like her to be so enthused about everything. He could almost see her going around the school merrily as everyone prepared for the festival. A warm feeling emerged in his chest as he pictured her in his mind with her beady green eyes and smile. Once again, he thought of how joyous it would be to be able to be close to her again, and yet…

Syaoran rested the back of his head on his chair and sighed. As time passed he seemed to only drift further away from his goal. He knew it was never going to be easy in the first place and while he had only been back for a little more than a month to date, it seemed everything was already falling apart. He was still determined to achieve his goal, that much was certain, but the Clan was already bearing down on him without the reveal that he wanted to return to Tomoeda and with all that's happened, their approval seemed unlikely. All this led him to conclude that the Clan would not accept his wishes and in turn led him to an uncomfortable thought:

Would he have to leave the Clan to stay with Sakura?

Syaoran shook his head. 'It won't come to that. I won't let it.' Syaoran looked at himself, tired and sticky with sweat from his practice. 'My mind's too tired to be thinking. I'll go to bed and try again tomorrow.' With that, Syaoran went to shower and prepared for bed, all the while ignoring the nagging thought in his mind.

The remaining days passed quickly for Syaoran and before he knew it, he was back in the training grounds again. Syaoran walked to his practice arena, where his instructor was already waiting for him. Along the way he caught Su Bao and his gang out of the corner of his eye looking at him menacingly. He ignored them and went to his instructor, stopping in front of the imposing man.

"Teacher, I am here."

"Tchh." Fang Zhi spat. "Let's see if you've improved yourself since last week."

'I hope so.' For the last few days, he had reattempted the meditation technique several times. Each time, the results had been similar; temporary success followed by failure in subsequent attempts. He had even attempted to do it in daylight without the assistance of the moon out of curiosity which was considerably more difficult and even less fruitful than the other tries. Now, it was time to see if they had any effect on his magic.

"Ready yourself!" Fang Zhi ordered. The man had already finished warming up and already had his sword in hand. His usual impatient gaze was trained at Syaoran.

"Yes, Teacher." Syaoran finished warming up and readied his own sword. Both of them did their regular routine as they pointed their blades to each other.

"Begin!" The shout rang out like a gun as both of them leapt to face each other. The sound of the first clash rang through out the training ground followed up by more as both combatants traded blows. Once again, Syaoran found himself slowly being pushed back as Fang Zhi increased the intensity of his attacks. He found it hard to overcome the size and skill gap between them. Meanwhile, Fang Zhi's attacks were slowly breaking through his defense.

'Focus, find your opening!' Syaoran strained through the intense flurry and focused on his opponents movements trying to predict the next one that follows but found it difficult to keep track of the fast attacks. 'Come on, come on!' He watched the blade's movements as he desperately fended it off until finally, he recognized a high attack swooping downward from right to left, coming in slow enough for him to see. Syaoran quickly sidestepped to his left and dodged the attack. The blade missed narrowly missed him and clashed to the ground instead. He quickly regained his footing and entered his casting stance. He could see that Fang Zhi's blade was still on the ground and even as he began to lift it up, Syaoran knew he wouldn't have it up in time.

'This is it! It's my opening!' Syaoran quickly drew his casting paper and placed it on his sword. "Let's hope this works." he whispered under his breath. He felt the magic flow from his center to his body like a river. This was it. He was finally going to make a hit.

"Fire God, answer my call!"

Again the magic flowed fluidly up to his sword before dwindling as it reached the paper. A few flames came out as sparks from the paper as if to further drive it home. His special training had failed and the river he felt before now felt more like a stream as the resistance once again increased. 'No, no, NO!' Syaoran looked panickedly at Fang Zhi, whose blade was already off the ground and almost in a position to defend. Pushing with all his might, he forced the magic out with all his will to not lose the opening he had. "Come on!" he gritted through his teeth.

A stream of flame finally emerged from the paper and rushed towards Fang Zhi. Again, Syaoran knew that the spell had been significantly reduced in power. Even so, he had made it. Fang Zhi's blade was not yet in position to defend against the attack. Even if it wasn't powerful enough, he was going to finally land a hit against Fang Zhi. He looked at his opponent who was still turning towards the attack-

-and caught sight of Fang Zhi's left hand, which was pointing two fingers under his right arm towards his direction.

"Protection!"

Energy formed around the fingers and formed a barrier between him and the flames. The flames made contact with the barrier and enveloped it but didn't break through. Fang Zhi retracted his fingers and opened his left hand, prompting the barrier to explode outwards. Flames and magical energy spewed out in all directions. The sparks of fire and light blinded Syaoran and he reflectively covered his eye with his left arm.

"Damn it!" he hissed. Syaoran strained to open his eyes and see through the blinding sparks. He was now afraid. Right now, he was completely vulnerable. Rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, Syaoran looked in front to see where Fang Zhi was, only to find the man had suddenly appeared in front of him wit his sword drawn back for a thrust. In a split second, Syaoran moved his sword to block the oncoming blow.

He missed Fang Zhi's blade by a fraction of a second and the thrust hit him cleanly in the left shoulder. Syaoran felt the point dig into his flesh and he yelled out a scream in agony. The force of the blow itself threw him back a few meters till he landed on his back. Getting up, Syaoran clutched his left shoulder where the sword had struck, the very same sword that was now pointed at his head by his angry instructor.

"You've wasted your opening. If that had been a real battle, you would be dead by now." Syaoran looked up at the sharp tip pointed to his face. He would probably be missing an arm right now if this wasn't training. It was common practice in training to cover weapons with a layer of magic in order to blunt the edges and prevent grievous injury, but that didn't make that thrust hurt any less. He was definitely going to have a bruise there later.

"Get up!" Fang Zhi growled. Syaoran instinctively rose and winced as his left shoulder screamed in pain. Fang Zhi looked at him in contempt. "Let that be a reminder to you. I will not have a Li mage be so weak. If it takes a few bruises to wake you up, so be it."

"Yes, Teacher." Syaoran obeyed while clutching his shoulder.

Fang Zhi walked a few steps back and faced Syaoran. "Now get ready. We will start again."

"Yes." Syaoran grasped his sword again, suppressing the pain in his shoulder, and readied himself again.

"Begin!"

Syaoran could hear the sound of his own panting heavily in his ears. Sweat drenched his whole body as he lay on the ground exhausted and unable to move. The slightest movement sent waves of pain throughout his body.

After the first grueling round, they had gone at it another three rounds. During the second round Fang Zhi had delivered a solid kick to his gut which had put him on his knees. Added to his shoulder, he had been hanging by a thread in the last round, barely pushing away Fang Zhi's blows. He was so overwhelmed with pain that he hadn't been able to notice Fang Zhi's lightning attack in time and it hit him squarely in the body. He laid on the ground closing his eyes waiting for the pain to pass. The whole world seemed to fade in the background and he could barely make out Fang Zhi's voice speaking to him.

"That's it for today." He said simply. No further rebukes like the usual, but none were needed. Even if he couldn't see Fang Zhi he could feel the anger and disappointment radiating through and this time it was beyond words. Syaoran heard his footsteps slowly diminish as his instructor walked away. Likewise, he slowly felt the shocking pain slowly recede until he was finally able to feel his body again. He clutched his sword and slowly lifted himself up by using it as a makeshift cane. He was only able to get on his knees before pain and exhaustion drove him down on one knee. Clutching the grip of the sword tightly with both hands, Syaoran tried to catch his breath as his vision slowly focused on his surroundings. He could see the arena, the overlooking spectator platforms, the entrance and exit to the arena, and finally the surrounding training arenas, separated by his by a gridded metal fence. It was here that a sight caught him by surprise.

Watching at him through the fence was the trainees, all of them fixing their eyes on him. Syaoran looked at the myriad of expressions looking at him. Some were looking at him with sympathy and some with shock. Su Bao and his gang, identifiable from the crowd, were looking at him with delight. He could hear them shouting insults at him (Hey, golden boy! Thought you were supposed to be strong!). Even some of the instructors were looking at him though they stole glances before returning to their duties. He saw all of these expressions yet they all had an underlying thing in common; they were looking at him with pity.

Syaoran put his head down to avoid their gazes and clutched the grip of his sword tighter till it shook while closing his eyes with similar pressure. A single tear came out of his right eye and dropped to the ground. It was all he would allow himself to feel in front of them. He would not breakdown here and lose whatever dignity he had left even if his mind was in turmoil. He thought back to the night he had received Sakura's letter and the first time the thought had crossed his mind that he would have to leave the Clan to achieve his goal. The idea that had grown in his mind like a tumor despite his efforts to contain it but now was all he could think of, and while he still could not accept that idea fully, something had been made clear after today:

The Clan that he once thought he knew wasn't here, and this one had no place for him.