Forbidden
Part 3
by: Dessert Bloom

Authoresses Note:

Eeyuck. I’m a severe insomniac, which is why I’m even getting this other chapter up as quick as I am. It’s three in the morning and there isn’t that much else I can do. Oh well, I hope my heavy lids and tired mind doesn’t detract from the quality whatsoever. Thanks so much to all the great people that have been reviewing this fic! As usual, please review if you like (if you don’t then don’t, it’s that simple, please don’t feel like you have to give me false hope or anything), don’t flame, yadda yadda, and, oh yeah, I’m gonna put up a couple’s list so people that don’t like my couples can just go away first before being disgusted with my ficcy (j/k I really love all the Rayearth couples). They pretty much go in order of importance, the most important going first and so on. Here it is:

ClefxPresea, FerioxFuu, AscotxUmi, LantisxEagle, LafargaxGardina, ZazuxHikaru (maybe a lil later I’ll institute this couple)

*Instead of God knows where, sorry, I couldn’t resist the play on words. Might use this again throughout the story.

***Part Three of Forbidden: His Staff As Golden As The Sun ***

So, Eagle was revived.

He had stumbled into the Knight’s chamber while still woozy from his long time of silent slumber.

There was slight celebration on that matter, especially concerning Lantis’ considerably changed demeanor, but for the most part any such cheerful affairs or events that may have taken place were replaced by the pondering of the disappearances, and the beginning of a long and brutal search commissioned by people breaking off into groups and using whatever transportation magic they had to scope the entire layout of Cephiro.

Not only that, but all those that possessed magic could feel the disturbing hue of black cast over the whole atmosphere. And the black sky, if you wanted to start talking about black, didn’t change either. It was like it was night, except constantly.

Yeah, it was night, in so many ways. Both physically and emotionally.

So it went for a few days.

Out of all there, no one seemed more distressed than Umi, Presea, or Hikaru. Umi worried for Ascot, Presea worried for Clef, Hikaru worried for everyone there.

It was Hikaru’s responsibility after all, as Pillar, to wish any such disturbance away.

But she couldn’t.

Every wish she made fell on deaf ears, or rather, inactive magic. Not her own inactive magic, since that was pretty much intact, and she was pretty sure that she herself was functioning quite healthily in that department – but Mokona’s system – the system that supported her magic’s usage – it simply ceased – simply ceased to exist.

She felt so lost and helpless now, in a world that was supposed to be under the guidance of her every whim, her every cheerful fantasy, her pure heart, her hope, her want for everyone to have love and to know love and to love.

Because she’s just that kind of special person.

“It’s his staff.”

Presea’s questioning eyes lingered for a moment on the wooden stick, old and worn, yet somehow still maintaining a honey complexion as golden as the sun. Its designs were neither elaborate nor really even there, for years of usage had ridden itself of the already boring inscriptions, but there was still one thing there: her name, carved onto her very first work.

Presea.

She could almost hear her childish giggle of years ago as she eyed the despicable working of wood and craftsmanship, and a pleasant memory was brought to mind.

It was herself from quite a few years ago, her former self running up a garden path – she couldn’t remember what garden path anymore – but it was a beautiful garden, her favorite garden, but even better, her favorite person was just a few yards away in that favorite garden.

The child Presea presented the staff to Clef, a contagious smile on her face. ‘Look, Clef, I did it! But…’ A little disappointment now, as the child Presea took sight of another staff by Clef’s side, no doubt created by the workings of much more experienced and detail aware hands. ‘…It’s pretty bad, isn’t it, Clef? You’ll have to teach me how to do that.’ And the child Presea frowned and jabbed out one of her small cloaked arms, her fingers pointing specifically at the better one.

Clef smiled and reassuringly hugged Presea, just a quick hug; a little reward for a job well done. ‘I’ll teach you, if you watch carefully.’

“I did, Clef. I watched very carefully. Everything I know I learned from you.”

Ferio blinked, a little surprised at Presea’s odd response. “What?”

“Never mind.”

To get the old golden staff out of her mind, Presea looked all around the small chamber room quickly. Under lighter circumstances it had served as a guest room; now there was no bed, and it was decidedly empty. Probably to be used for storage of old magic icons just like the one Ferio now held in his hand.

Still not enough, however, to turn her mind from him.

Everything here reminded her of Clef.

With a sigh she moved towards the window, looking out onto the gardens. That wasn’t much of a change either, because Clef just seemed to like imprinting himself everywhere in her memory.

She smiled, but said with a warning in her voice, “I trust there’s a reason you summoned me here to look at an old staff, keeping me from being in a search party.”

“I didn’t want to give the others false hope.”

Well, now. That certainly seemed like a reason, or at least the beginnings of a reason.

It definitely seemed like the beginnings of a very good reason, if you wanted to get right down to it.

Presea looked back to him rather quickly.

“What?”

Ferio moved forward a couple steps, the golden staff still outstretched. Presea, blinking, had no other choice but to take it, the feel of wood in her hands immediately familiar, somewhat comforting, and also a little instinctive, as her trained mind instantly sought out different ideas and forms of which she could use to enliven the old, but trustworthy, staff.

“It’s a magic technique that Clef taught us some time ago. It doesn’t always work, and it’s hard to find an object to use it on – but I think I remember him using this staff once while he was teaching us, so it may be able to do the job.”

Presea nodded, eyes widening, the value of the wood lying in her hands suddenly exposed for more than a possibly future renovated staff. “I can’t remember what it’s called.” She admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

Ferio smiled reassuringly. “Neither can I.” A pause. “Can you do it?”

A long sigh was issued from stressed confines, decidedly strong, yet feminine in sound and affect. “Can you?”

“No. I forgot some time ago, and I’ve never been good at magic anyway. I’ve always decided that all I need is my sword – I guess I’ve always been wrong.”

Not much choice, then.

“Then I guess I’d better be able to do it, huh?”

“Yeah.”

She felt cold.

That was the first thing that she felt, and it she felt it strongly too, like a blast of frigid air had been borne upon her and then had decided to just stay for the heck of it. Otherwise, there was the familiar sensation of magic, the odd, eerie sort of content that fogged up her mind, and then the acute awareness that came to her next, telling her that she was using magic and that she must be careful and attentive. And, this time, there was also the forbidden feeling. Ferio had begun to term it ‘the Forbidden’.

Something more wonderful than these other things was also here, however. She could feel his presence.

Clef.

She couldn’t see him; a strange fog had built up around the room, shading all things, Ferio included, from her sight. It was sort of like there were no walls, no boundaries, just this endless fog, these sensations, his staff, and his presence.

Vocalism put gentle body to her weak, questioning words. “ – Clef? Clef, are you there?”

At first, silence.

“Clef?”

She stepped forward gently, wondering if her feet would suddenly find that there was no floor and then she would fall through to Mokona knows where*. But no, it was almost as if the fog became a solid body of something or other, keeping her decidedly where she was. And yet again, it was like it wasn’t there, because she didn’t feel the normal tint of cold that came with pressing against fog.

She was too busy contemplating her odd surroundings that, at first, she didn’t hear his voice. The second time around, however, her ears finally caught a wisp of familiarity, somehow both weak and strong in sound, the bearer of whose voice would have never forgiven himself for his own little ebb of humanity, the gentle fear that comes with facing such forbidden things put forth as a weak waver in his cry for Presea’s name and presence.

Presea turned quickly, the staff cluttering forgotten to the floor.

“Clef.”

He nodded slowly, moving forward one step, his new staff making a thumping sound against the floor/fog. Presea’s instant instincts were to run towards him, which she did – but he stopped her with a shout of “No, not yet!” and a hand rising palm face up. She stopped, remembering that to touch someone during this communication magic would mean instant cancellation of that very magic – but his end words of ‘not yet’ made her promise herself that when she could touch him she would do it proper – hug him for all her life. It wasn’t right to not be able to hug him for all her life now, in fact. Just not right, not right at all.

She opened her mouth to question his whereabouts, remembering her mission and Ferio’s intention. She stopped however, eyeing him, and then instead stated simply, “You’re taller.”

Clef looked himself over. “Am I? Yes, I see I am.”

“But how – ?”

“Like Ascot, I can take any form I like.”

Well, if she couldn’t touch him, she would go as near to him as she could. Stepping slowly forward, and upon the fact that Clef made no outcry or anything of the sort, she soon found herself directly in front of him, staring upward. Yes, he was taller now, a good couple inches taller than her at any rate, somewhat more masculine in build.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. His eyes were so pure and good, very caring in it’s every slight movement. That was the wonderful thing about him – his self-sacrifice; his driven need to protect and to care for. She always felt safe around him, except for now. Now she felt like she wanted to protect him, except that she knew he would never let her, because he had so much pride.

Clef looked away for a moment, to the side. “Ascot is with me.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Ferio wanted me to ask you –”

“Ferio?”

A nod to signify his correctness in the name. “We’re all fine and here, besides for you two. He wanted me to ask you where you were – Oh! Clef, you’re hurt.” She reached out to touch his shoulder wound, but stopped herself just in time. Her hand wavered a moment in midair, just a little way from making that treasonous contact, then went back to her side, trembling.

He smiled, turning back to face her. “Yes, but it’s paltry.” He paused before continuing, his gaze sweeping the expanse of her pale shoulders, and then turning back to the worried designs of her facial expression. “I can tell a story, but it will take a little time. I also have a feeling, however, that you are more than willing to listen.”

She nodded. “Correct. Please, before both of our magics fails us.”

He relayed to her the information that both Ascot and himself had been able to decode thus far. Alcione had attacked them, to start. Presea was surprised at this, but bade him to continue. A forbidden lingering feeling of magic – did she feel it? – and yes, she did – made both of them think that Alcione may be working for a higher power than her own aggressive ambitions.

“It’s very odd.” Said Presea, at this point seated cross legged on the floor/fog, staring at her sandaled feet like they were the most interesting things in the world, when for the truth it was that they the most uninteresting things in the world, and were merely a divergence from the most interesting thing of the moment, that she wanted dearly to look at, but feared would make her want to hug it, and then that oh-so interesting thing would be gone. “I feel like something is invading my magic, and wants control of it. But it’s too weak to really do anything than tell me that it’s there.”

“That’s how both Ascot and I perceive it.” Clef agreed.

She paused, thinking of the Magic Knight with light features and a fiery determination to take care of everyone, whether they like it or not. “By the way, is Ascot hurt?”

A little chuckle came from above her. “You can tell Umi that he has a sword wound in his left side, but that it’s been patched up and he doesn’t suffer.”

They continued. Clef told Presea that both Ascot and himself had woken up in a dungeon with petty shackles bounding them to their confines, and that within a matter of moments they had escaped. From there on they found themselves in a gigantic castle, with winding halls and no guards. Besides the armor-clad men that had first thrown him in the dungeon, Clef explained, they didn’t see or sense another living soul. Very soon they made their way out, understood it was an old fashioned sort of castle floating in the sky, and one of Ascot’s dragons were now giving them a lift.

“It shouldn’t be long until I see something I recognize, and that will point our way back to you.”

She smiled, relief washing over her. “That’ll be great, Clef. I’m so glad you aren’t hurt severely. I worried so much, when Lantis first told me the news.” She paused. “Oh, I’ve just remembered something. Clef, guess who woke up?”

He had no clue.

“Eagle!” She burst out, smiling.

She awaited his little laugh to signify his smile – which she would not allow herself to see. Eagle meant an ally, logically, but, more importantly, he meant a friend’s revival. But Clef did not smile, he did not laugh, and his only reaction was a profound silence that Presea associated with a frown.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” She asked quizzically, reaching over and picking up his old staff, fingering the designs that had been worked into the wood so many years ago.

“Normally it would be.” Clef finally answered, a long sigh accompanying his words. “But in light of certain developments, I only wonder, why now?”

“A simple question.”

“A true one.”

They both laughed. Presea was satisfied that her little poetic venture had lightened the atmosphere.

“There is one thing though, Presea.”

“Oh?”

“Look up at me.”

She did as commanded, a little reluctantly.

“I want you to send Hikaru to an old library. The Celes Library, you know where it is.”

“Not Umi?”

He laughed gently. “Its connection with the water has nothing to do with its name. It is, actually, probably linked more to fire than any other thing, and Hikaru, as Pillar, needs to go there. And I want you to go back to your shop, because that’s probably where Ascot and I will meet you.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“One last thing,” and with that he moved his newer staff forward in an offering type stance, “I want you to hold this for me.”

She studied it for a moment. The staff was one of her later workings, a thing she had spent perhaps a year on, sort of like a project that she taken on seeing how impossibly good she could make a thing. And when she was done, well, it just seemed the natural thing that her favorite working should be given to her – he was, after all – favorite friend.

“I can’t take it, though.” She reminded him. “The magic won’t allow it.”

He shook his head. “If we concentrate – ”

“All right.”

That done, she got to her feet, her hand outstretched for the intricate working of wood and attention. He obliged, and very soon she felt the feel of rough wood in her hands once more – then, surprising her, he reached out his other hand so quickly it couldn’t have been acted on anything other than impulse – it shot out and around her waist, pulling her into a quick embrace. It was all there, the feel of his warmth cascading around her, his emotional need to protect her flowing over into her own sensors.

“Be careful.” He said, gentle vocalism whispered into her ear.

She nodded, biting back a sob of both happiness and weakness, hugging him for all her life. Her grip around the staff tightened without mercy, not about to let it go either.

Then he was gone, his warmth and his form fading into nothing, causing her to fall as his support disappeared. The fog cleared, and Ferio stepped forward.

“What happened?” He asked urgently. “You were in a trance for a very long time.”

She said nothing immediately, clutching the staff where she lay on the floor.

After she told Ferio what had happened, he managed to call back the search parties. They gathered around in the summoning room, and hatched a plan.

Presea, Ferio, Fuu, and Umi, would go to Presea’s shop and await the arrival of Clef and Ascot. Hikaru, Gardina, Lafarga, and Zazu would go to the Celes Library. Lantis, Eagle, and Geo would hold the fort. As for all the other princesses from Chizeta and the rest – this was not their fight, so they made plans to leave immediately, although they did say that if things got out of control they would be more than willing to lend a helping hand.

Such was the plan.

While Presea and Umi gathered their things for the journey ahead, both Ferio and Fuu went to the gardens. An eternal black sky cast a dark hue over their surroundings, but for once Ferio didn’t mind, thinking it comforting in light of the fact it was so much like the first time they had kissed, those few days ago. Indeed, they walked down the very same path, towards the very same bench, the very same red roses by their sides.

“Are you alright?” Fuu asked, sitting herself down on the bench and leaning against him.

He nodded, his one arm going around her waist and pulling her in for a closer hug. “Worried.” He admitted. “Fuu, do you remember when you told me about the monsters under your bed?”

She giggled. “They weren’t really there.”

“Yes, but you were convinced they were.”

“I was wrong.”

“But now you’re not.”

He slowly reached up a tentative finger and pushed back some loose, untidy wisps of her blonde hair back into position behind her ear. Before he could stop himself, his finger then went on to trail the soft expanse of pale jaw. She reached up her own hand and took that one in her own, her ringed finger pushing a little big uncomfortably against it, but otherwise leaving him with a touch that felt as smooth as silk. “I don’t quite understand what you mean.” She admitted. “We’re not facing monsters.”

“True.” His eyes left her gaze for a moment, sweeping over the expanse of garden. “But whatever it is, I can’t see. I’m sure it’s there, however, and it’s dangerous.”

To his pleasant surprise, she reached up and kissed his cheek. He felt himself immediately reddening. Most of the time he was the one who made any sort of advance whatsoever. Not that he was complaining. Looking back to her, he saw that she was smiling very innocently, eyes sparkling. “Please smile a little, Ferio.”

He did. She kissed him for it, on the lips. He kissed her back. And then they left the garden, and went on their way to Presea’s shop.