She was five.

Persephone was too young to comprehend the matter at hand. Her sister, older by but a few years, was fully aware of the situation, but masked her pain from her younger flesh. Mother and Father both lay immobile on the bed, located in the middle of the master bedroom; Persephone thought them to be asleep, although they never slept this long; not until dinner time - nor did they ever sleep so silently. Father would snore, Mother would roll over, yet they both remained eerily still.

Elder sister grasped Persephone's small hand and led her out of the room, and out of the house. She would have to send someone to retrieve their parents and set their cold flesh aflame, so she would personally discard their bones into the sea, such as Veruni custom demanded it.

And Persephone would not understand until later.

Then she was ten.

Elder sister and she would never remain in one place for too long. Always on the move, but never sure why. She spoke of a place above the world, above the lands of Filgaia, but Persephone couldn't make sense out of her mumbled words. One day, as they made a stop between towns and searched for a few berries, Persephone went too far - never seeing the land stopping behind those thick bushes as something tore within her ankle and gravity pulled her down toward the jagged rocks and salty waves. The maximum her untrained reflexes would allow her was to reach out and seize a root protruding from the side of the cliff with her small hands. As soon as the swinging stopped, her voice resounded, calling for her sister to help.

Elder sister came, crimson eyes wide and face drained of color, kneeling down to grab hold of her wrist, but her own arm could only be extended so far. Had she been a little bigger, perhaps she could have reached her. Her heart beat against her chest like a battling ram, fear and panic swelled up within her eyes as tears and clouded her vision. Should she lose her grip and fall, she told herself she would jump after her sister and try to break her fall with her own body.

Both of their thoughts were cut short when someone finally reached Persephone's hand - or elbow, rather - and pulled her up. The traveler that seemingly materialised beside the elder sister pulled the younger up and stepped back before setting her on the ground. Stunned, mouth agape, the two stared at the man - a human - who had just come to their rescue.

After tearfully promising to sister she would never stray from her again, Persephone thanked the man, looking down at his shoes. The man laughed, saying something about Veruni not needing to look down at the floor when facing a taller human. Elder sister was at first wary, but nonetheless grateful for saving her only remaining link of flesh and blood. He told her to think nothing of it.

Persephone would only understand later that it was the very beginning of everything - sister's relationship with this human Nightburn, her own hidden feelings for the man, and her motivation to some day gain his attention.

Then she was fifteen.

One would have said the situation was hopeless for her. With the way she saw her sister and Nightburn act toward eachother, it was evident she would never stand a chance. Persephone was young and he was beyond twice her age. But then, sister isn't very old herself, is she? She is barely twenty, and he is in his early thirties. One would think this could only happen in one of those dramas they showed in Laila Belle. Still, she refused to give up.

If she could not have his heart, she would have his respect.

Even though she and sister were Veruni. Even though he was human.

He ought to divide his attention between them both instead of only focusing on the eldest. It was not fair otherwise. And she knew bearing feelings of jealousy and resentment toward her sister would be useless and silly.

Elder sister then contracted a fever. It was then that her train of thought changed.

Then she was twenty.

Filgaia had rejected her.

It had been happening to numerous Veruni ever since they had returned to the planet. Persephone learned of Zopt Syndrome, of its symptoms and its outcome. She had heard her sister mumbling in her feverish sleep. She heard her calling out her name, Nightburn's name, for Mother and Father, and demanding the planet why it rejected her in between fits of labored breathing and wheezing.

Filgaia had rejected her and she died for it.

Had they had medicine, perhaps she could have survived. Even just something to bring her fever down. Even just something to ease her spirits.

But the Veruni hadn't advanced so far into their research yet and no medicine or treatment existed at the time.

On the edge of that very cliff where she almost perished, Persephone stood as the sea breeze gently blew her hair long hair about. Nightburn stood with her, silent, cigar in mouth. Together, they discarded her sister's fire-marked bones into the waves below. They bid her a final farewell when the skull was the only piece left; she threw it as far and yet as gently as she could, hoping it would fall into the water and sink to the bottom before the waves could drag it back to the stony shore.

They both remained there for a while. When Nightburn asked if she wanted to go back, she declined and wished to remain there a little moment longer. Shrugging, the man discarded his cigar to join his lover's remains before turning and leaving the woman by herself.

Filgaia rejected her.

Persephone could not readily accept it. She did not want to accept it. Elder sister had done nothing wrong. She was a good woman. She had done absolutely nothing to deserve this miserable fate--

She looked over her shoulder when she heard footsteps in the grass behind her, telling Nightburn she still needed some time by herself, voice bitter, but her words trailed off when she realized that Nightburn had indeed already left and that somebody else stood there behind her.

A young man - perhaps even younger than her - with skin of bronze, long creamy hair and eyes of ice stood there. His presence radiated something eerie that commanded respect and fear.

She turned to face him. The warm sea breeze had turned cold. She could almost see her breath when she gazed at the unknown figure that stood before her. She froze as he moved to extend his hand, as though in offer - an offer she could never bring herself to turn down.

Will you join me, Persephone?

And then she was twenty-five.

It was over.

She suffered defeat at the hands of a teenaged girl. Volsung was dethroned, and the evil spirit exorcised from him. Kartikeya prefered to off himself rather than die at the hands of a human; Fereydoon seemed to have found peace and returned to Twelbit, and Elvis went with the Baskars to find a way for both humans and Veruni to coexist on Filgaia.

That Rebecca girl was right. Nightburn was alive.

Was.

After the battle against the rampaging golems, the man she chased after for so long finally fell. His body could not take much more stress after having the cave in Mount Chug-Chug collapse on him, and that fight was the last straw.

Even though he met his end, Persephone did not cry as she did for her sister. She and Nightburn could be reunited somewhere. And after all that, she finally did acquire the man's attention and respect.

After all that, she was no longer shackled by the chains of the past and the old scars of battle.

Persephone was finally free, and could then work hand in hand with humans and Veruni alike for a brighter future.

xx

Author's Note: This idea bit me in the face a little while ago and wouldn't let go. The antagonists of Wild ARMs have never really gotten any development in any of the games, and it just seemed worse in WA5, so I gathered whatever official information I could find and wrote this. The only info that's official for sure is that Persephone is twenty-five during the game, that her sister and Nightburn were in a relationship, and that her sister died five years from Zopt Syndrome (Filgaia 'rejecting' her because she's a Veruni) before the game. I don't know when it was that Persephone joined Volsung, nor do I know if Nightburn really died after the game, since that part was kind of rushed, although it's hinted that he might die soon. But, yes. Other than those few bits of canonical information, everything was improvised.

Writing-wise, I kind of liked how this turned out in the beginning, but multiple distractions from my parents calling me to dinner only to see it wasn't going to be ready for another fifteen freaking minutes kind of ruined my writing mood, but I couldn't afford to stop and leave this to continue another time because I would simply never get around to it. So, uh, that's why the second half is kind of half-assed, so I apologize for that.

On another note, even though I really should be spending my time working on cosplay, I'd like to write more similar pieces for WA5, since... well, this section is almost entirely comprised of WA3 stuff, heh. But my creativity only goes so far. So, I'm open to suggestions. Do note, though, that I can only write brief one-shots such as this, because I have absolutely no motivation whatsoever to write multi-chapter fics.

Oh, and please let me know how you liked this. :) Thank you for reading!