DARK ANGEL RISING
© Nov. 22, 2002 By Rory V. Pascual
PROLOGUE:
It was a beautiful spring evening. The sky was clear, the stars twinkling in its azure landscape. The full moon itself was like a glowing silver mirror.
However, as he stood in the middle of a verdant field, he knew that it was a dangerous night. The scent of magic was heavy in the air. An uncharacteristic shudder went through him as that wild energy seemed to seep into his heavy robes and caress his skin. He was not a coward, but at that very moment, he wanted to return to the comfort and safety of his mansion.
Safety? he thought wryly. That first...attempt...had occurred while he lay slumbering in his own bedchamber.
There had been several attempts after that, and he had barely fought off his attacker. In retrospect, it had been a big mistake to have bestowed that much power upon his creation, otherwise, he wouldn't be in this predicament he was in now.
Here, in this beautiful battlefield, he intended to put a stop to it once and for all.
"Well, I'm here," he called out into the darkness. "Show yourself. Let's settle this matter between us once and for all."
He was expecting a frontal assault, as per the rules of fair combat. He never thought that he would be attacked from the rear.
His only warning was a crackle of electricity in the air. Before he could raise his staff and release the Shield Card, he was struck in the back by a large ball of energy. A scream of pain was wrenched from his throat as electricity jolted through his entire being. He collapsed in a heap on the moist grass, his magnificent robes now torn and scorched. His glasses had fallen off and he could barely see the figure approaching him. Even when he was turned onto his back, all he could see was a shadow looming above him.
Body paralyzed by that power blast, he could only flop his arms weakly to his sides as his robes were torn completely from his body, his skin puckering with goose bumps, more from fear than from the cool night air.
"Why? WHY?" he asked in confusion and despair, feeling his hips straddled. "Why are you doing this?"
A tear fell from his eye as soft lips nuzzled at the pulse of his neck, and a strong, graceful hand parted his thighs.
"Because I love you," was the reply he received.
With a strangled cry, Kinomoto Fujitaka sat bolt upright from his bed. Feeling the bile rushing up his throat, he all but stumbled into the bathroom. Falling to his knees before the commode, he retched violently into the water until he could spew no more. But the bittersweet taste on his tongue remained.
Flushing the toilet, Fujitaka made to stand, but terrible pain shot through his lower body. Trembling all over, he laid his right hand over his abdomen while his left gingerly touched his bottom. It was only a nightmare, but why did it feel like he had just been brutally violated?
However, a tiny part of him knew that it wasn't a nightmare. That in truth, it was a vestige of ancient memory long buried in his subconscious. Although the full memory was but a dim vision, he was suddenly seized by fear that he forced himself to get to his feet, ignoring the tender aches of his body.
Hurrying out into the hallway, Fujitaka first entered his daughter's room. He breathed a sigh of relief, seeing Sakura sound asleep, a small smile on her face. Going towards her, he gave the little girl a peck on the cheek and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
Something urged him to open the bottom drawer of Sakura's study table. He gazed down to find his daughter's yellow stuffed toy tucked in a small bed as well.
Caressing the toy's pudgy cheek, Fujitaka whispered, "Keep my sweet daughter safe, Keroberos."
Somehow, it didn't surprise him to hear the toy mumble in his sleep, "I swear to you I shall, Master Clow."
Clow... The sound of that name caused his head to spin and the nightmare threatened to overwhelm him once more. Swiftly but quietly, he emerged from Sakura's room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
For several minutes, Fujitaka leaned against the door, panting for breath, the fear causing his heart to pound like a hammer. Pressing his hand over his mouth, he remembered his terrible dream, and that...being...that had....
"Why are you doing this to me?" he recalled the heartbroken cry of his dream self, a question he had asked many times during his ordeal.
Each time, the answer had been the same. "Because I love you."
A soft cry from the other bedroom caught Fujitaka's hearing. Entering, he found his son Touya tossing and turning restlessly in bed.
Hastening to his firstborn's side, Fujitaka soothed the boy with a tender caress of his face. Sensing his father's calming presence, Touya quieted down. He even turned onto his side and leaned his cheek into his father's palm.
As he gazed down at his sleeping son's handsome face, he heard that voice whisper in his ear, "Because I love you."
Sudden dread filling his heart, Fujitaka thought in despair, Dear God, no! Please don't tell me it's happening again! But something inside him knew that the nightmare had only just begun.
Tears streamed down Fujitaka's cheeks as his mind was filled by the images of his two children. Heaven help us if he's found someone to love. Oh, please! Don't let it be either Sakura or Touya! Don't let it be any of my two children!
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