He’d known since he was a child that he was destined to cross paths with her. He’d learned so much about her over the years he’d studied; it was of great importance for every studying wizard to know of great magics that came before them and she, in particular, had fascinated him. The idea of a sorceress so stuck in time that she had lost all ability to age had intrigued him. He knew that one day this woman would be a part of his life, but it precisely how he wasn’t sure.

When he first became aware of her existence she was not even born. Her time travelling abilities were the envy of every wizard and witch that had existed or had yet to exist – here was a woman who saw life begin as it ended; a woman who met and made Gods and spirits and creatures of far away worlds. He, himself envied her ability but in turn felt such sympathy for her existence that any jealousy was forgotten.

When he first met her he was fifteen. His studies had taken him to a prestigious school in England where he was tutored in depth. Of course, his protégé status made him largely unpopular but he’d always been mature beyond his years and so held no desire for companionship. His peers rarely understood him as it was, and he’d always assumed that if he got too lonely he could create his own companions; so he kept to himself, making a point of his disinterest in relationships.

When he first met her she was wearing furs.

It had been a typically blustery English day and he’d been called to see the Headmaster, but upon entering the chambers he’d found his mentor speaking with a tall, elegant woman, wrapped in a fur coat and speaking in a low tone. Ageless in appearance, she was already The Witch of Dimensions, and so it took no introduction for him to know her – after all, he’d looked forward to this meeting his whole life. He’d taken a long look, paying attention to every detail – from the deep purple satin of her dress to the marcasite butterfly brooch; from the cascade of black hair to the curls of smoke from her pipe. An image memorised, embedded in his existence. One look at her, and a desire for companionship blossomed within him for the first time.

She was beautiful. She was terrifying. She was, without a doubt, his Venus in Furs.

A moment passed, and she had turned to regard him. The look in her eyes was that of instant recognition, and he thought he saw a flash of pain. A thought, he decided, that was best not to dwell on. She inclined her head in acknowledgement, and he bowed in return.

Mere seconds passed and she was gone, leaving behind faint traces of perfume and dissipating tendrils of smoke. He stayed until they had departed, knowing in that moment that no matter what eventuated he was hers alone.

From then until he met her again every woman who approached him left with a broken heart. Some moved on, some didn’t; some wished him luck, some swore revenge. For years his solitary existence was satisfactory, but eventually the loneliness weighed down on him, crushing him and driving him close to madness. He created them then – companions to keep his spirits high and pull him from his depression.

Years passed, season changed, wars were fought that became increasingly devastating, books were written that he’d read decades before… it was all a blur. And then, finally, she was back in his life.

The first time she met him he was closer to a century older than his appearance let on; she, in turn, was just approaching eighteen and already held powers that most adults couldn’t comprehend let alone control. He wasn’t quite sure, but he guessed that it was that familiar sight of a solitary figure seated peacefully under a considerably less-than-peaceful willow that made him understand why their partnership would work so well. ‘So different, yet so much the same…’ he mused.

o0o

She watched him warily as he approached her, frowning at the tree’s lack of reaction to him. This strange man was intruding upon her privacy, and he knew it. She didn’t like him already. What irritated her most was that knowing expression on his face, like he knew her darkest secrets. She held back the urge to growl.

He smiled at her icy glare, dismissing it. “This is definitely an effective method of avoiding people.”

“And yet, here you are…” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Again, he dismissed it, instead continuing to talk. “I used the same method of avoidance a long, long time ago.”

At his wistful expression she softened her glare. “I knew I wasn’t the first, this place is full of memory.”

He smiled. “You see things others don’t.”

“You state the obvious like it’s a great knowledge only imparted to you.”

He chuckled then introduced himself. “I’m Clow Reed,” he extended his hand.

She ignored it. “You’re also reaffirming my previous statement.”

He dismissed her again, secretly delighting in the frustration he created in her by doing so, and instead asked for her name.

Silence for a minute, then “… Ichihara Yuuko.”

“That’s not your real name.”

“Neither is yours.” She smiled at him, almost slyly, but without lessening her glare. She was enjoying making him feel like an idiot. And he clearly was, as he was sitting beside her now. She regarded him for a long moment, her entire being a picture of annoyance. “I get the feeling you’re going to be a pain in my arse.”

He laughed out loud. “I imagine so.”