Authors Notes: Inspired by a weird dream. I do not mind Flames as long as they specify what exactly they don't like. If you don't like one of my stories please say so because otherwise I don't know how I am supposed to improve my work. Disclaimer: Characters are Square Enix's not mine.
The wistful moon hung deep in the sky, casting silver shadows across the Viera's eyes. The small group of Viera youths waited with baited breath, huddling closer to the fearsome fire. Fran shuffled uncomfortably. Her new adult attire was digging into to her skin – which was still annoying pillowed with youth. She had wanted to look older but she missed the soft, warm garments she wore when she was a...child. She had tried telling this to Jote but...Jote had not listened. Fran missed her mother – she may have listened.
She tried again to explain to her sister but received a quick 'ssh'. The performance was beginning.
Slowly a tall, masked Viera slunk out of the trees. She had slung a long Hume witch cape around her. As she moved into the group she growled and barked at the younger Viera who screeched, happy with fear. Mjrn, too young to understand, had begun to play with her sisters long white curls. Fran scowled at the younger girl. Mjrn just laughed. Full of unsuppressed hate, Fran pushed her little sister away from her. As punishment, Mjrn pulled out a lock of Fran's hair...and began to eat it. A glare from Jote stopped Fran from retaliating. Huh, how she hated her sisters. If her mother was still alive...Jote and Mjrn would pay for treating their beautiful, perfect, fantastic, amazing, brilliant –
"SISTERS!" Fran jumped, inwardly cursing the storyteller for doing her job. "Have you heard of crime?"
The crowd rippled with terrified whispers before one shaking boy raised his hand.
"C-crime, i-it's a sin against our mother, The Wood..."
"CORRECT! It is a wicked HUME invention. Crime is rife in the world outside our Wood. Listen, if you will, to my tale of horror and woe. This is a tale of the crimes the outside world commits to the land and to EACHOTHER!"
Fran was already bored – she never had liked ghost stories. Fran liked fairytales, where the outside world was her canvas, ready and waiting for the tales she'd paint. But she had never heard such a story. She did not truly know what lurked beyond the suffocating blanket of her home. None of them did. But Fran imagined it was the most exotic, alien place.
High above them, the harsh orange feathers of an unknown avion slashed violently across the dying blue sky, leaving a blood stained crimson hue in its wake. Fran had never seen such a thing. Its beauty left her astounded. What had it seen, high above the world? The powerful knowledge it contained...not even the wisest Viera could claim to know as much about the world as the bird. Gently, Fran closed her eyes. Her body tingled and she could feel herself becoming lighter and strength streaming into her arms. Opening her eyes she discovered she was...free. Hopelessly, impossibly free. It felt good. A weight she never knew she carried had been lifted. Cut free of her chains, she soared higher and higher – so high she could touch the untamed sun and circle around the pining moon. She saw everything that is, was and will be, sleeping below her. Nothing could touch her – not even fate. She was fulfilled.
Looking down she could see her home. She longed for all Viera to know the grandeur of the sky. As she looked down she felt it coming closer. The leaves of the trees reaching like long, skeletal hands. As her feathers fell away from her body, she dropped. Falling. Losing hope. She hit the bitter floor, a crumpled broken mass. Tree roots cut into her flesh as they tied her down and below her the ground opened. Lovingly, she was lowered in...Trapped. Earth fell on top of her, blocking out her sky. Suffocating, she was suffocating. Imprisoned. Her safe, safe home...her grave...
There was a gasp amidst her...peers? Horror had rooted them to the spot. Revulsion at the outside world was thick and humid in the air. The winds around them screeched, rocking the trees. As the fire died it spat and hissed. The storytellers condemning voice rose, beating her around the ears. Unlike the storyteller Fran could not continue. She glanced at Jote, listening with a severe, rabid interest to the ghost story, then at Mjrn. Mjrn reached up towards her sister, begging Fran to take her with her. Fran got up. Mjrn's eyes grew wild and watery. Fran turned around. Mjrn let out a solitary whimper. Fran left, unnoticed by all but Mjrn. One day she would be truly, utterly free.
Forever.
...
"Ready?"
Fran nodded, a longing throbbing through her body. Her new partners hand hovered over the switch that would change both of their lives. Glancing at his youthful face she wondered if he was feeling the same uncertainty as she once had. Neither of them had ever flown an airship before. Whenever she had enough Gil she would ride on them. This was different. If she made a mistake she might kill them both. An odd feeling welled up inside her. She supposed that was what the Hume's called fear...or was it excitement?
His hand pressed down on the lever.
Around her the engines roared, seething joyous life. They were off. Flying.
Clouds brushed against the sides as the world speeded away below them. Never before had she realised how vast the sky truly was. Endlessly possibilities spilled from it great everlasting depths.
"We are now quite capable of travelling anywhere," said her partner, calmly. He looked calm but she could tell from his deep blue eyes, which were reflecting the impossible might of the sky, that he was awestruck. "So, where should our first rendezvous be? I leave the choice to you."
Fran did not answer. How could she? The sun, buried in the pits of space, was not as free as them. The gaping wound left by the tendons connecting her to The Wood had finally healed. Here, with the sky...with Balthier...she was complete.
A avion flew harmoniously beside the ship. On land it would no doubt try to attack them. Here all of the skies children were equal. Fran raised her hand to the glass, tracing the figure of the bird with the tip of her long finger. Her partner chuckled.
"Is it how you pictured it, my lady?" He turned to face her, flashing his charming smile.
Yes, she thought. Exactly. Completely indescribable. But she did not tell him that – how could a Hume understand how she feels!
Tenderly, his hand slipped into hers. "It's beyond words, is it not?"
Fran was about to pull her hand away but his words stopped her.
"Content am I," she whispered.
Hand in hand, two kindred souls finally aligned, they flew onwards. Two people, now one, beyond the hands of Time and the cavernous jaws of Fate, forever flying. This is no fairytale or childish fantasy. Maybe it was destiny...maybe it was friendship...maybe it could be something more...