DISCLAIMER: CLAMP owns everything CCS.  Sadly, I do not.

A/N – Brief because it was written for challenge with a 75min. time limit.

. . .

            And then he opened his eyes.  "Good God," said Clow.

. . .

            Cerberus was chasing moths in the new moonlight while Clow drew his circle and prepared his spell.  Watching his creation, first of the pair of Guardians for his Cards, his pride and confidence guiding his hands, he carefully laid out each of the symbols.  The points of his sun were precise; the curve of his crescent moon was perfect.  He himself was rested and ready.  Now was the time to begin.

            "Cerberus," he called, bringing the winged lion to his side.

            "Master?" the young creation asked.  He sat, upright and elegant, with his paws together and his wings neatly tucked into his sides.

            "If I fall over, combust, or otherwise fail," the magician began wryly, "see to your own well-being."

            Cerberus fixed his maker with a pointed look.  "I am by your side, Clow," he said.

            "Then I had better do this right," the sorcerer sighed.  He became serious, and began to draw on the magic.  His circle began to glow to his Sight as it drew in magic from him and from the elements; his spell reached into the ether and sought.  He waited until time had no meaning, until his spell caught hold and pulled and pooled the magic into his circle.  Luminous as moonlight, an oval formed above the magic circle and began to coalesce into a corporeal form.  Like Cerberus, it began with the shape of wings, man-sized feather wings, concealing their contents in mystery.  Clow kept his mind focused and clear, waiting until the moment was ready.  "Hello," he spoke softly.  Creation was born on his breath, and the wings opened.

            They pulled away like curtains, revealing the one whose power would orient on the moon.  He was in every way pale but glowing, and like Venus, clothed only in his hair, hair that flowed like mist down a mountainside over shoulders and hips and past his hovering feet.  The being's eyes were closed, his hands palms-forward: the pose of Quan Yin.

            The sorcerer repressed his whoop of victory but not his smile.  "What is your name?" he ventured, his voice resounding with accomplishment.

            "You know my name," the creature said, his lashes just beginning to rise.

            "Yue," said Clow.  He saw Cerberus fidgeting in the corner of his vision.  The magic circle began to lose its glow, and the new creation dropped lightly downward, his feet touching softly on the patterned sand.  He had a man's shape, slightly shorter than the sorcerer who had made him.  His hair moved and shifted as he descended, and revealed that his shape was natural and perfect.  His chin tipped upward, and he opened his eyes.

            "Good God," said Clow.

            Before he saw their color, Clow saw something eternal in Yue's eyes.  They connected with his with an unknowable kinship.  This was his creation, and not his creation.  He met those eyes boldly, with mastery; after a few moments, Yue looked away.

            "My Lord," he said.

            Cerberus rose and walked briskly forward.  The new creation looked at him curiously.  Experimentally, the lion touched a paw to Yue's abundant tresses, looked back at their mutual maker, and harumphed.  He looked up at his counterpart.  "Welcome to your new family," Cerberus said.

            Clow Reed sank carefully to the blessedly solid ground.

. . .