Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction ❯ Journey of Mind ❯ The Beginning ( Chapter 1 )

Tsuki-san16: Hey everyone. This is my first Card Captor Sakura fanfic. Well actually it's my first ever fanfic. [sweatdrop] Anyways, I hope you all like it and if anyone has any tips please send `em in your review. Here's the summary for the story:

Summary: A threat has come over the country of Gaia threatening the entire population and soon the entire world. A princess and a thief team up together to stop this evil force (although they don't know about it ^.~). Can they stop it before it's too late? S/S if you don't like then go away.

Warnings: This story has just a few hints at shounen-ai (male x male action [grins]) and attempted rape and other such things as killing, blood and gore etc. Once again if you don't like it I suggest not reading it.

Rating: PG-13 for now. I'll probably end up raising it.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Card Captor Sakura or anything about it. I do however own the characters that have absolutely nothing to do with the story and are just meaningless creations thrown into my story. I also own the idea of a Wordling. Please don't steal it without asking. Thanks!

Tsuki-san16: Okay I think that's it. I'm sorry if my summary sucks. I'm not very good at it. Maybe when I'm finished the story someone could make one for me? Please? Anyway I'll get on with it now. Enjoy and please review!

Card Captor Sakura: Journey of Mind

There are many different types of beings in this world. There are humans, elves, dragons, dwarves, unicorns, centaurs, magicians, and other such things. There has always been some speculation about which is the most powerful, friendly or smart. As for the most mysterious, well, you could ask anyone from any type of species and they'll all tell you the same thing … Wordlings. What's a Wordling you ask? Look Wordling up in the dictionary and it'll tell you this:

Wordling: An extinct race of beings that are alike to humans in shape. They live in seclusion and want nothing to do with any other race. All have blue hair and eyes and have no magic to speak of though they seem to have a mysterious power which makes them invincible.

That's what it says. Unfortunately for it, it's wrong, completely wrong to be exact. How would I know? Let's just say I know one. We met when I was fourteen …

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an unbearably hot night and King Fujitaka was having a lot of trouble sleeping. He twisted and turned and even counted sheep yet he still couldn't fall asleep. Finally giving up, he sat up and searched for his book. Suddenly he heard the sound of light tapping on his closet door. Thinking it was probably his daughter playing a trick on him, the king rolled off his bed and crept to the door.

"Nice try Sakura but I'm a lot smarter than you think." He said chuckling as he opened the closet door. His smiled faded into a frown. There was no one there. Dismissing the sound as a bit of his imagination and slightly embarrassed for thinking it was real, he made his way back to his bed, picking up his book once again. No more than a minute later, the tapping started again this time from his wardrobe. The king ignored the sound and continued reading.

Soon Fujitaka began getting sleepy. Setting his book on his nightstand, he lay back down and tried to sleep. No sooner did his head hit the pillow that he heard it, the sound of heavy breathing. Now the king wasn't one to believe superstition. He didn't believe in ghosts and knew nothing about aliens. Standing up, Fujitaka headed towards the sound. It was definitely coming from the bathroom attached to his room. Slowly, he opened the door.

Nothing was there. Rolling his eyes in frustration he turned around.

Only to come face to face with a gigantic shadow. It was pitch black but it had swirls of the darkest purple the king had ever seen in it. In contrast with the darkness it's eyes were bright red, glowing in the darkness of the room. The king hardly had a chance to suck in a breath to scream as the shadow wrapped itself around him and melded into his being, wrapping around Fujitaka's soul.

It had begun.

*~*~*~*~*~*~* The Next Day*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A young girl, princess to be exact, by the name if Sakura Kinomoto nodded goodnight to her maid as she shut the door. Listening intently, she waited for the sound of her maids light footsteps to fade before jumping up and changing from her pajamas to her street clothes. Swiftly and quietly she started packing a bag with blankets, extra clothes, and as much money as she dared carry. After what she had heard this morning she'd have to escape as soon as possible …

(Flashback)

Sakura pranced down the stairs holding a piece of parchment. She wanted to show her dad her new drawing. As she neared the throne room she heard her name being whispered urgently. After a moment of hesitation she crept up to the door and peeked inside.

"-Sakura should be here to hear the news your Majesty."

"We don't need to get her. You will tell me now!" Sakura's father, King Fujitaka yelled, glaring at the messenger.

The kings advisor, Yukito, looked at the king oddly. It was very rare to hear him yell.

"Well, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news your Majesty but your son, Prince Touya, was killed trying to make peace agreements with the Wordlings. It seems they didn't want to make them." The messenger said quickly, not looking at the king.

King Fujitaka stared at the man in shock.

"He's … dead?" he asked.

"Yes your Majesty."

"That doesn't make any sense your Highness." Said Yukito, stepping forward.

"And why not?!" Fujitaka yelled, glaring at Yukito.

"We know full well that the last remaining Wordlings were all killed by some strange and unknown fire. They couldn't possibly have k-killed Touya." Yukito said, choking on the word `killed'.

"It had to be the Wordlings! Who else would kill my son!?" Fujitaka yelled glaring at Yukito.

"I don't know your Highness." Yukito said shrinking back from the King's mighty anger.

"Then you will keep your mouth shut." The king said promptly sitting back on his throne.

Sakura stifled a sob. She glanced at Yukito, who looked strangely lost. She knew that he and her brother had loved each other and she knew he was probably as devastated as she. Just as she thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, she heard her name again.

"Also your Majesty, about princess Sakura." The messenger continued, staring at the floor.

"What about her?" Fujitaka asked angerly.

"She is coming close to the age of power. The prophecy said that she is one of the one's with the power to overcome the evil. You need to be rid of her now."

"You're absolutely right. We'll do it tomorrow. It shouldn't be that hard to kill her if she has no idea we're doing it." The king replied casually, as though he frequently killed off his offspring.

"What are you talking about!?" Yukito yelled taking a step forward again. "What's gotten into you lately!? You're not the same. I thought I sensed something evil going on here and now I kn-" he stopped. He couldn't exactly talk anymore. The messenger had slipped up to him and slit his throat as though he did it everyday. Yukito gurgled as blood poured out of his wound and mouth.

Sakura had to restrain herself from screaming as Yukito slid to the floor, twitching slightly. Her only source of comfort for his death being the fact that he had gone to a better place. He would be able to be with her brother. She looked at the king as he continued to talk with the `messenger', completely ignoring Yukito's fresh corpse on the floor. She took a few steps back before whirling around and running all the way back to her room.

(End Flashback)

Sakura shuddered as she slipped onto her private balcony. It hadn't been until later that day that she had decided to run. If her father wanted her dead he'd have to catch her first. Or at least find her and she was very good at hiding.

Climbing down the conveniently placed vines, Sakura crept through the grounds. When she neared the guards she worked a little spell Yukito had taught her. The spell wasn't very strong and only worked on a few people but it was perfect for this situation. The spell allowed her to slip past the guards unnoticed and run to a cluster of trees down the road. After that, she swiftly made her way to town hoping to escape from the evil that had taken over her kingdom.

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 14 Years Earlier*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In a small village surrounded by trees and where the last remaining Wordlings lived (about 50 or so), a new one was just born.

Unlike humans and other beings like elves, Wordling babies were born with a full head of hair. The doctor silently brought in the newly washed baby into the small room, a frown on his face.

"What's wrong? Is my baby okay?" The new mother asked, her husband leaning over her shoulder.

"Your baby is fine ma'am demo(but) …" the doctor trailed off.

"What is it?" The husband asked apprehensively.

"See for yourself." The doctor answered grimly, holding out the baby.

The woman took the baby from the man's arms and hesitantly looked at it. It was true that all Wordlings had blue hair and eyes but this baby, well, this baby boy had unruly brown hair and golden auburn eyes. The woman frowned.

"Are you sure this is MY baby?" she asked.

"It is." The doctor nodded.

Suddenly the husband burst. "You were cheating on me, weren't you!? Cheating on me with a human!" he yelled in disgust.

"Iie(no)!! I would never!" the woman screamed looking horrified at the very thought.

"The only way to tell is to try and hurt him." The doctor said, his voice strangely calming.

Unlike any other species (except maybe vampires) the Wordlings couldn't be injured. The only way to hurt them was with, oddly enough, words. Even that only worked if they felt they deserved the pain. Not many people knew this so most other species thought Wordlings to be invincible.

The husband nodded and pulled out a knife. Quick as a flash he cut a slit in the baby's arm. Or at least, he meant to. Nothing happened. No blood, cut, or even a bruise. Not a scratch.

"The boy is a true Wordling. A half-Wordling would not be able to do that." The doctor said.

"But his hair-" the man started.

"It could mean one of two things." The doctor stated. "One is that he is a sign, a gift from the gods, a holy boy. Or … he could be a demon, an evil gift from the Evil one."

The woman gave a shuddered gasp and started to cry. Her husband patted her on the shoulder.

"What will you be naming the child?" the doctor asked.

The husband paused for a moment then said "Syaoran. Syaoran Li."

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 5 Years Later*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Syaoran Li get your ass over here!" a harsh voice yelled, sending shivers up a five-year-old Syaoran Li's spine.

"H-hai(yes) tousan(father)?" Syaoran asked quietly.

"Get over here and help me with this wood." His father growled, shoving a bundle of wood into his little hands.

As he and his father carried the wood through their small village people would stop and stare at Syaoran. Women would pull their children away from him and cover their eyes, glaring at Syaoran. He sighed and looked down. People had been acting like this ever since he could remember and frankly, he was sick of it. He knew it was because of how he looked. His father frequently reminded him that he was a freak.

His father hadn't always been like this. Ever since Syaoran's mother died in a freak accident when he was three everyone hated him, like he brought bad luck to anyone who associated with him. Once she was gone Syaoran's life had turned into a living hell.

His father was a wood-cutter for their little village and he didn't make a lot of money. A lot of the Wordlings didn't want to hire the father of `that cursed child'. It was because of Syaoran that they lived in a little one-roomed shack with hardly any food and only one bed (which his father slept in). It also didn't help that his father was … a little friendly with the drink.

Okay that was an understatement. The bastard was a drunkard.

They finally reached their `house' and Syaoran's father ordered him to put the bundle beside the door. He needn't have bothered, Syaoran already knew where to put it, he'd only done it a million times. Nevertheless, he did as he was told. Once he did that his father left him to go and get his daily dose of alcohol.

Sighing, Syaoran started his job of sorting the wood into three groups. The first groups was for larger pieces of wood that were too big for fires, the second was for pieces that were perfect for fires and a third for twigs and tinder. It was a hard job for a five-year-old but he managed. When he finished that he had to clean the `house'. It was mainly just sweeping the packed dirt floor clean of shards of glass that were once his father's beer glasses. By the time he finished that it was about time for his father to come home.

Syaoran sat down on his bed of straw and suddenly felt a strange sensation of heat rising in his chest. He felt his forehead to see if he was getting a fever but he was fine. Shrugging it off he lay down, awaiting his father's return.

Quite suddenly he had a feeling that he didn't want his father to return. Of course, he always felt this way. He hated his father. He definitely wasn't the nicest guy on the block and he abused Syaoran constantly. Whether it was mentally or physically his father would find a way and he could hurt him too. As mentioned before, Wordlings could only be hurt if they felt they deserved it, and in the case of his mother's death, Syaoran felt it was all his fault. His father took full advantage of that feeling without mercy. He never hurt Syaoran enough for it to be fatal, but enough to break bones and certainly enough for it to be painful. So it was natural for him to not want his father to return.

He felt so strongly about this that he actually stood up to run away. Unfortunately for him, his father returned at that exact moment, more drunk than Syaoran had ever seen him. The man could hardly walk and he was muttering incoherently, saliva dripping out of the corner of him mouth. His eyes focused on Syaoran and he stumbled towards him.

A voice in Syaoran's head screamed at him to run, to hide, get away from this place he unlovingly called `home'. He took a step back but then he couldn't move. There was a look in his father's eyes that he had seen once before, when his father had lent Syaoran out to a friend of his for pleasure. Syaoran had seen that look in his father's friend's eyes and now they were in his fathers.

Syaoran tried to run and found he could finally move but he only managed one step before his father was on him, pushing him to the ground. Syaoran struggled, clawing at his fathers back and biting his arm but his father was too strong for him. Grabbing Syaoran's arms, his father held them over his son's head with one arm while the other undid his own trousers. Syaoran could feel himself paralyze with fear. He suddenly had that strange feeling of heat rising in his chest again. His father pulled down his trousers and then started taking of Syaoran's. Syaoran struggled more but knew it would be useless his father was too strong.

The feeling in his chest was becoming unbearable. His father was almost done with his trousers and Syaoran was overwhelmed with a sudden anger. He didn't want this, he didn't need this, he didn't deserve this! His head was pounding. He wanted it to end, for everything to-

"STOP!!" Syaoran screamed.

And the entire village burst into flame. The little village was engulfed in a maelstrom of fire burning everything in it's path. Flames lashed out, sucking terrified Wordlings into it. Syaoran could see nothing but red. He could hear his fathers anguished screams mixed with the screams of the villagers and could smell the unbearable stench of burning flesh. Syaoran took a moment to wonder why he wasn't burning and why his father was since Wordling's couldn't be killed this way. It was a strange thing to think at a moment like that but that's what his last thought was before unconsciousness overtook him, pulling him into comforting blackness.

He awoke some time later to a pounding headache and his entire village burnt to the ground. Only he was alive, covered in ash but perfectly unharmed. The stench of burning flesh was still fresh in the air and he groaned, rolling over to vomit on the ground. When he finished he looked around and the full realization of what had happened crashed into him. He, Syaoran Li, had caused the maelstrom that had burnt his entire village to the ground and everyone in it. Except himself. He tried to remember how it happened but all he could remember were the terrible screams of the villagers and his fathers burning body on top of his.

Strangely enough, he could feel a smile forming on his lips. He could hear a voice laughing and was startled to realize the voice belonged to him. Syaoran Li sat there, in the middle of his burned village rocking back and forth fighting to rid himself of the terrible screams of the villagers as they burned.

He was fighting a loosing battle.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tsuki-san16: And that's it for the first chapter. What do you think? Please leave a review I'd like to hear from you guys. I've already got the next chappie ready but I don't want to post it until I know if you guys like the story or not. Anyways please review and peace out! ^.^