Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction ❯ Invoking ❯ Image 02: Flight ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from CCS.

Note to readers:

This is, of course, an Alternate Universe fic. It's entirely of my creation; the land, the events, the plot- everything except for the CCS characters. So yeah, it's fun. Enjoy and thanks for reviewing.

________________________________ __________Invoking___________________________________________

by: carpetfibers

Image 02: Flight

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Ejaculation;

Exclamation;

Elucidati on;

Education-

Try enunciation.

Alliteration is all a deuces, dearies.

How fun.

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The gray haired woman held her wizened hands to her throat protectively, a soft clucking sound coming from that same organ. "Thee were nigh upon hours too late."

"So she'll be fine?" The tension in the man's voice belied his stony countenance, and the old healer allowed her dry lips to crack into a smile.

"Thee read me right; the lass will live yet a many day."

The relief passed over his face briefly, and the wrinkled smile widened. "What do I owe you?"

At this, the healer shook her aged head and frowned deeply. "Thee would pass me for a robber? Shack ye, child! Mine eyes may be lacking luster, but they know the touch of the fae, and the lass has the touch."

Her said eyes softened as she gazed down at the restfully sleeping girl. The auburn haired child fairly glowed with the touch. Passed on through her family's generations, from mother to daughter and down the lines to her, the ability to sense the touch of the spirits, the fae, was a long guarded secret. With her death, so would die the secret.

"I thought as much," Touya whispered, his troubled eyes fixed on the same girl. The healer jerked in his direction, and the wrinkled lips twisted into a slight grimace as she recognized the emotions tumbling over his tan face.

"Have ye worry over the lad?" she interrupted his musings. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and refocused his attention on the still faced boy that lay next to the original object of his worries.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked lowly.

The woman chuckled dryly, the hoarse laughter resounding in the bare room. As if in response to the throaty sound, the lone fire crackled noisily, a few stray sparks flashing into the air.

"Nothing ails him! When the lass wakes her pretty eyes, he'll wake as soon as ye please. He's much like thine companion from the forgotten Clan- he lies in twine with the lass."

"Speak simply, Healer, I haven't the patience to deal with puzzles and riddles," Touya snapped, not at all appreciating the lightness with which the woman spoke.

Again she chuckled, the sound grating against his nerves. "Thee have a right fire in ye; make ye sure that no evil comes of it. Lest speak right words than open thine mouth and break out the spirits. Rest idle that tongue, child. I speak you in soothe, mind mine words. The boy is joined with the lass; while she suffered under the fever, he stoked her energies. There would be but little life in her if not for the lad's dotage. High, high- ye owe much to the lad. Thank him grandly come the waking."

Wearied by the woman's old speech and queer manners, Touya could only nod in submission to her words. He gazed once more in the girl's direction, again feeling that strange connection that tugged on him when he first fell upon her body huddled on one of the side paths of the Madir road.

"I'll be outside; call when they wake."

Her gruff chortling was the only reply as he slammed the door and stepped out to his waiting crowd. He passed over the recently added companion of his crew with a glare reminiscent of his youth and focused instead on the two women. The older of the two was the first to barrage him with questions.

"Will they be alright? Was the healer able to take care of the fever? Does she recognize the markings? And the boy- will he be alright? What's wrong with him?"

It was Sonomi's daughter who ceased the prattle of queries. With a gentle touch to her mother's shoulder, Tomoyo smiled softly and turned her wise eyes to the blank faced man before them.

"Touya?"

He sighed and ran a rough hand through his tangled hair. "They'll be alright. The woman said that the girl will wake shortly, and that the boy was somehow feeding her energy..."

His last words died off as he still didn't quite understand their meaning. Joined? In what way? An unusual emotion lurched in his heart, and he fought back the rude intruder.

"They're Annym." Another rude intruder: Touya turned his wary eyes to the ragtag young man who had sprung to their aid when dealing with the ruans.

"What do you know of it?" he snapped. Despite having helped them dispose of the fiends and then having guided them out of the Oirthir district, Touya found himself disliking the stranger who wielded a magical sword.

"A spirit bonding- it's an ancient thing, few still possess the knowledge of how to create such a connection. Annym are rare among the unnatural, and even more rare among the natural. It means that one of them has the touch." The amber eyed man spouted off his knowledge tonelessly, yet Touya easily imagined a hidden smirk behind the blankness.

He tightened his fists and turned away. "I'm going to work on the craft."

Tomoyo nodded knowingly and allowed her mother to follow Touya back to the barely recognizable piece of machinery. She turned her calm eyes to the tense young man in front of her. She allowed her eyes to travel across his body, taking in the well toned muscles stained with dirt, dust, and blood half hidden behind a faded green tunic. Across the chest laid an unfamiliar family crest, and along his neck rested the talisman from which he summoned his magical sword. Just the word magic was enough to send tingles of excitement down her spine, yet to see it manifested in the physical was threefold the sensation. She longed to speak to this boy who possessed an ability like her own.

"Thank you," she began softly, never taking her eyes from his face. He only jerked at her words and backed his legs for a better positioning. Like a warrior, she noted.

"Your sword- do you have more magic than just it?" Even she could hear the barely controlled excitement in her voice. The nameless stranger eyed her carefully, remembering how she had scanned the area in Oirthir.

"Am I the first you've met who holds the ability?" he asked, once again tonelessly.

Tomoyo shook her head, her eyes edging in the direction of where Touya knelt in the street, his serious eyes trained on the dilapidated craft. "No; I've met others," she replied softly. It wasn't her place to speak of Touya or the few others who held the ability.

"How much do you have?" Again, the voice was a deadened thing. Wordlessly, she held out her hand in the old tradition of tláth, the passing of knowledge through contact. Recognizing the gesture, the stranger from the dregs of Oirthir closed his eyes and readied himself for the onslaught of images and sensations that would come with her touch. The two hands met, one of pale white, the other of dirt and-

hush a bit child, don't make a sound, you'll kill her if you yell. blood everywhere, red crimson scarlet vermillion cherry ruby blood blood blood. drowning. hands, fingers, and blinding heat- hush now child, hush now child. no crying, but all sobs. alone, forgotten, afraid, and cold steel. a knife brittle and hallowed, ancient words and- we'll kill her, see? understand it, child? make less noise and we might return you someday. try smiling more, child. if you smile, we might forget the last mistake. ah, such a pretty thing, don't you know a man's touch yet? spoiled, silly thing- the knife fell. blood again. red red red red red red red red red red! savior's hands, savior's eyes, savior's heart- you're free now. cry if you like. your mother's waiting

- his eyes flashed open. He met the violet from which flowed the rich sensation and felt as if his touch would surely soil her.

"So that's what happened?" he asked, his voice tinted with the faintest of emotions.

Tomoyo nodded, her smile still as easy and soft as it was from her first words. "I've lost much of what I originally had, but there's enough of the ability for me to at least use the second sight. If needed, I can even summon enough to do some light healing."

"I'm sorry that happened..." She shook her head at his hard words and tucked her hands into her skirt.

"The past should remain in the past. I might have never met Touya if not for that, so in a way, I'm thankful. But please, you can use my name: Tomoyo Daidouji."

He considered her words, a small amount of wonderment rising at her easy manner. "As you would use mine: Syaoran Li, Daidouji-cail'."

She smiled at the honorific. Such old ways in one so young, surely this stranger- no- this Syaoran Li was of a forgotten line.

"I'm glad to have made a new friend, Li-guil'," she replied softly, adding the proper title of the ancient ways.

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Like ancient ballads, you trained the words to my ears.

A criss cross of poetics, you danced the edges of faceless waters.

Don't flee from me,

I beg you.

Strike me with the same sacrificing wires,

Shorn my shoulders crimson,

Just

Never flee from me.

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The thickness over her senses eased much like the moor beasts once walked the shallow rises of the eastern sea- as tempid, roaring herds. The vaguest of memories reached into her clouded mind, its fingers seizing upon her consciousness, and her green eyes shuttered open, once, twice, and thrice for good measure. Upon the last of the motions, the room took shape and the familiar warmth of her companion met her senses. The dry plains of the Madir road had exchanged shape for stone walls and cracked plane glass. An ancient clutter of rusted wires and fist strewn metal shards filled a corner while opposite to it festered a vermillion glow of flame and heat.

As she rose and her body announced its weakness, she felt the first of stirrings from her protector and self proclaimed guardian. She waited patiently for his blue eyes to wake into the room with her own. At once, in one continuous motion, the waited orbs flashed open and the body rose to embrace her own. Softly, she allowed herself to fall into his arms.

"I'm fine now, Eriol. You needn't worry any more. The worst is over." He withdrew from her at the whispered words.

"You were too close to that edge," he whispered back fiercely. "You cannot be so foolish again. If not for chance, you would have died."

She shook her weary head, pieces of her auburn hair falling across her pale face. "I knew what was coming. There was never any worry needed in my respects. If anything, you should trust me more."

Eriol allowed his lips to soften enough to smile. "Promise me you won't be so solitary with your thoughts next time, Sakura."

Sakura smiled in return, her eyes focusing on a third pair in the room from behind the young man. "Is it to you, my lady, that I owe my recovery?" she called out.

The still softly cackling healer edged into the firelight, her dulled eyes alighting upon the girl who held the touch of the fae. "Just a tiny part is owed me, child. Thee should thank thine strong friend at thine side. Twas his spirit that held you for mine hands to pass their wonders."

Sakura nodded and rose slowly. Her still concerned friend mirrored her actions, his hands resting at her elbow to steady any sudden movements.

"There are others?" she asked of the old woman. The hoarse chortles died into a dried frown, the wrinkles gathering at the edge of the aged mouth in clusters of spider webs and shadows. "Outside, they wait thee."

Again, the girl nodded, allowing her peculiar eyes to rest on the woman's face for just a moment. At once, the ancient healer sat down heavily upon her stool, a withered hand pressed to her forehead. The strangest of sensations- it was as if the girl's gaze had pierced through her mind and touched onto the deepest of her being. Truly, the lass held the touch of the spirits: the fae had marked her.

Eriol followed closely behind the slender girl, his eyes aptly observing the scattered group waiting just outside the poorly built house. In the few seconds it took for him to take in each position, their appearance was noted and the first of reactions occurred. The tall man with black hair and uncertain eyes dropped his tools and stood up. The older woman next to him with the markings of the gentry on her ivory skin, followed close at his steps, relief written plainly in her violet eyes. A girl with matching orbs and full skirts merely regarded the scene carefully, restraint and patience apparent in her movements. It was the defensive positioning of the last person that caused the blue eyed guardian to reach for the tattoo ingrained into his skin, his finger resting lightly above the pentagram. At the slightest hint of a threat, he would move into action.

Sakura prevented any such fall out with but one touch of her hand on his shoulder. She shook her head once, and focused on the obvious leader of the group: the tall man with black hair.

"Are you the one that rescued my friend and I?" she asked, her voice slightly hoarse yet strong. Touya nodded curtly and set his jaw. She took the few steps necessary to draw herself within touching and took his coarse hand into her own.

"Then I thank you," and she bowed, pressing his hand to her forehead. The steadiness with which Touya normally held himself disappeared in shock at the gesture. Such an ancient custom- yet, in times long left in the past, it was one that held the highest honor. Rudely, he jerked his hand from her grasp and spat out shortly:

"I haven't done anything to deserve that."

"May I know my rescuer's name?" she asked, her voice still strong.

The girl with the serene smile and dancing eyes took over for her unrefined leader. "His name is Touya Avalon. I'm Tomoyo Daidouji, and this is my mother, Sonomi Daidouji."

Sakura's perceptive eyes flitted once at the one unnamed member of her rescuers, but she chose to leave that exception alone. Seizing Tomoyo's hands warmly, she smiled and pressed them to her forehead, and then repeated the gesture with Sonomi.

"I thank you all. My name is Sakura Kinomoto, and this is my companion, Eriol Hiiragizawa. Please tell me how I may make this up to you."

Again, Tomoyo stepped in. "First, you must rest. After you've eaten and restored your energies, perhaps you could start by telling us your story."

Sakura smiled. "That I will, Tomoyo-cail'."

The girl's violet eyes widened; to hear such formality twice in one day- it was like stepping into the legends of the wandering story tellers with their half lies and seldom truths. Those same eyes widened in alarm as the first speaker of the ancient honorific stepped forward angrily.

"You are to return with me, Fakider," Syaoran snarled, his hand cupped tightly to his talisman.

Eriol fingers flew to his tattoo, but once again, that thin hand stopped him. With an easy assurance, Sakura moved toward the dark man, her hands to her side. She didn't stop with her advancement until those same hands were within touching distance. His amber eyes undulating with suddenly racing currents in his blood, the boy barely understood as she grasped his free hand and held it to her forehead, again bowing as she had with the others.

"I'll go with you when the time comes. For now, accept my thanks, Airidh."

Syaoran stumbled from her touch in confusion. She used his proper title among his clan, yet how could this girl, the Fakider, know such a thing? He backed further into the shadows, acknowledging her words with a barely audible grunt. There was more here to be learned, and until it was made clear, he wouldn't strike against her. He'd rest near and wait, as he had been taught.

Tomoyo regained the odd girl's attention, and with her mother's guidance, led her and her silent partner toward the nearly repaired hover craft. In addition to the two women's amiable chatter, Sakura's soft laughter brought a strange warmth into the small square, a warmth that Touya found himself disliking. His eyes continued to drift in the direction of the peculiar girl, time and time again, struck by some familiar yet impossibly so gesture of her hands or motion of her neck. He felt as if he knew her, yet no part of his enhanced mind found trace of her in memory. There was something else to it all. He allowed his thoughts to silence, and listened closely to the conversation.

"-found you on one of the side paths on the Madir road. Both of you were unconscious, although only you, Sakura, had the fever. I tried my best, but you only grew worse, so Touya decided to bring you to the Healer of Tuath," Sonomi explained, her heart already relishing having another girl to fawn over. And this one with such eyes- the color was as rare as the eclipses of the western sky.

"I fear that I've been some amount of trouble for your leader," the said girl intoned, biting down on her lower lip. Her still silent companion squeezed her hand reassuredly.

"He did it as much for you as for himself," the motherly creature replied firmly and her daughter nodded in confirmation.

"It's his way; he'll get around to asking you his questions eventually. I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."

Tomoyo's words were greeted with a bright smile. "Then wait, I will."

Both women were charmed by the girl's odd phrasing and often mixed words. There was a lilting musical quality to her speech that belied a foreign upbringing and something else. Neither thought it the time to mention the strange runes that flared during her fever, or the mysterious light the girl emitted after being attacked by the ruan. They both purposely kept their words to lighter subjects, saving the questions and curiosities for a later time.

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Uniform, melodious, and oh so quaint!

Miss oh so pretty needn't worry any longer,

Her rosy cheeks and flaxen hair

Are nothing compared to the dawn.

You might as well cast aside the blades now.

You've lost this contest.

Sunset will surely welcome you.

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He knelt in the ankle deep silt like dust that coated the Madir roads. The open and vastly rainless expanses of the area offered little help with his search. For the sixth time that morning, Taisho Fusari closed his light blue eyes and pictured the girl causing such frustrations. Her large eyes took full force of the mental frame: that elemental jade, at times smoldering in faded fires and at others sparkling in some hidden joy. Supple lips followed the haunting orbs: two full blooded patches of rose against her honey skin. And not for the first time in his still young life, he ached with the thought of her touch.

Taisho knew more of her fleeing than his master thought he did. He knew these small bit of extra knowledge because of his weakness, his near damning obsession. Without understanding the need or the desire, for months he had followed the girl across his master's grounds, never speaking her name, never calling for her voice, but always hiding in shadows, watching. He knew her every gesture, her every movement. He even knew of her friendship with his vassal, that damned Hiiragizawa. It was because of this weakness that he had failed to notice the strong meanings behind these meetings.

The departure was a long planned thing, of that, Taisho was positive.

The reasons for it- he had a few theories, but theories were for men of sciencia, not soldiers. For now, he'd focus on finding her and returning her to his master. Once more, the gauntly muscular man stretched out his hands over the permeable soil. Despite the rainless climate, the earth in Madir was as damp as any bog. In ancient times, a great river was said to have coursed its journey through the area, but after the Great Fall and Cree Feayr's arrival, the river had retreated with much of its brethren beneath the earth.

The dulled moisture beneath his hand was the only sign of this once rumored giant of the water ways. Taisho held little truth with the story; the only ones who still spoke of such silly stories were the wandering story tellers, and as anyone this side of the Fidean Heights knew, there was more lie than truth to the narratives.

"Fusari, sir, should we extend the perimeter of the search?" One of his vassals interrupted his wandering thoughts, and absently he nodded his approval.

Taking aside one of the more senior guards, Taisho led the freckled yet serious faced man over to a particularly thick patch of the silt. Forcing the confused guard to kneel down with him, Taisho studied his solider's countenance.

"Yosai, I need you to focus your energies on this stretch of ground."

The freckled man's pale eyes widened with a touch of fear and then darkened. "Energies? I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."

"Don't play fool with me! I know of your ability, so do I as I request," he snapped, and the younger man immediately bowed his forehead and laid his hand to the sodden soil. The blue eyed leader studied the pale hand pressed against the red of the dry earth; the mark of abilities in the people of this country was not seen in any physical means. The knowledge of such things was gained only through one's own personal holding of an ability.

His soldiers were unaware of this fact, though, and that kept their leader's hidden ability in the dark. The only one of his men that Taisho had ever shared this particular trait with had turned traitor and helped the girl escape.

The freckled guard named Yosai lifted his shaking hand from the soil and raised a slightly sweaty brow to his captain.

"Sir, there were three others here: a male and two females. But the man, sir, there's something strange about the traces he left."

"Strange? Explain yourself," Taisho ordered.

The poor boy paled and stammered forth, "That is, sir, he might have been a construct."

The blue eyes widened and beneath the heavy cover of black bangs, they narrowed something fierce. A construct... and from all logic, a rogue one. This spelled trouble and challenge for his mission. Biting back his frustration, Taisho dismissed Yosai who eagerly returned to the ranks. He ran over this new bit of knowledge carefully: a construct and two females picked up the girl and the bastard Hiiragizawa along the Madir road. The girl was sick with fever from last known, so...

Those same knowing eyes fled to the west and the far distant canopies of the expansive desert city of Caitnys. His elusive green eyed creature was surely in that city. His own talents assured him of this fact.

"We leave, men. We rest when we've reached the walls of Caitnys."

The men stifled their groans and a faintest glimmer of a smile made its way across Taisho's thin lips. He would find her yet.

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A second foundering of belief,

With mystic chants and glorified songs.

Beatific columns of postulant marble,

Carved into hands and wrists.

Sweet cacophony and inverted breasts-

There beats a heart of hallowed reverence,

Yet it bleeds still,

And my, how the stain continues to grow.

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He still refused to leave her side and had yet to open his mouth to speak. Sakura found it amusing at first, but by the end of the already tiring day, her good humor was rapidly fading. Even as she sat near the fire the brisk and cold Touya Avalon had made, she felt her temper rising at the continued silent presence. She waited though, until the two Daidouji women fell asleep before diving into the conversation. Guardian or no guardian, she wasn't about to spend the next months walking the Tesar lands with this kind of weight on her shoulders. She was already mad enough at him for forcing that annym on her. This needed to be resolved.

The flames crackled sharply as a large piece of broken ember fell to the bottom of the pile. The rich reds shifted in color as a deeper orange flooded forward. The square's dark gray shadows were lit in the new incandescence of crimson and tangerine. The warmth flowed through her bare arms, and silently, Sakura offered up a short prayer of thanks. Whether the scarred moon heard or not- she would learn one day.

"You must stop this, Eriol," she whispered into the flames, knowing that his cerulean eyes were on her face. She heard him sigh and continued. "Your purpose is more than obvious; I'm fully aware of it, and you know that I care for you deeply, but I cannot pass these days with such intensity thrown at me."

She stretched from the warmth and turned to face his still clouded expression in the darker shadows. "Eriol, I've asked you numerous times, but accept my friendship and let it be." He lifted his gaze to her own sincere green eyes. "And you know how I stand, Sakura. I will not leave your side, but friendship is not enough."

"And so you would try my heart this far?" she snapped, her voice rising enough to cause the younger of the two sleeping women to stir.

Eriol reached for her hand and wrapped it tightly between his calloused palms. "And would you have me not try?"

She dropped her eyes, and her hand fell limp in his grasp. This complication was not one of the hundreds she had dreamed of before leaving the large walls of her childhood. And she still failed to understand how he could believe himself in love with her.

"You shouldn't have drawn me into annym with you."

He drew closer to her curled body and tucked her hand to his chest. "You might have died. It was all I could think to do to save you."

The broken edge in his normally smooth voice was enough to push her anger aside. What she had done was admittedly foolish, but the dream had shown a safe ending, and she knew it trustworthy. Of course though, what the dream hadn't shown were the small details of that final ending; the thousands and hundreds of coincidences and chances that drew her into meeting with these people and eventually brought her to the one person who could heal her of that illness. Perhaps the necessity of Eriol joining her as an annym was part of those events. She might never truly know.

"You should rest, Sakura." He drew her fully against his chest and yet again she fell to his warmth willingly. He held her much like a mother would a small child, cradled under his chin, the smooth crown of silk soft hair brushing his lips. She would sleep held tightly in this embrace, and while unaware of it, Eriol would draw his heart's content of her contact.

He was her protector, her guardian, and while not her heart's partner, he would seek to be as close to that as she would allow him.

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Lullabies and sweet sixteens,

Bottles upon bottles of amber and green glass.

Drowning away the dreams and hopes,

Memories lost,

Smiles quickly broken.

Too touched to care,

Too touched to know.

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