Random drabble I wrote after watching Advent Children one too many times. Aerith/Aeris belongs to SquareEnix. Takes place on Aerith's journey through the Sleeping Forest to the Forgotten Capital.
Final Fantasy 7
Journey Home
The air shimmers, with fireflies of the past, the whispering spirits waltzing around her calling her name. She watches dazed-eyed, ears hearing voices no one else does, she used to think herself mad as a child when the planet crooned. All around, the forest slumbers, the affairs of lesser mortals do not interest sleeping ghosts.
One year, ten, a hundred and a thousand turns of the clock. How do you measure a lifetime?
A red sparkle drifts, dandelion-like before her and she blows softly, her breath carrying it on a wind as it fades into the translucent veil of shadows. Slim fingers slide over the length of the princess guard, the clean metal water-smooth, hard silk to the touch. The magic tingles beneath her hands sending shivers down to the end of every nerve and every strand of hair. It is all she has now.
What material possessions are there on your final journey? Only blind faith and a contrite heart.
She fancies this all as the beginning of a great adventure, stepping into the unknown and beyond, but there is an unwavering certainty to the fate that waits ahead. It will be quick and painless they promise. She is after all, the last Cetra, the planet's last hope. The flower girl from the slums with dream and aspirations too small to take wing and fly; whose wishes are but one among many.
You can never have everything in life. That's why it's important to prioritize. But who is to say what is worth more than another.
The spirals of the forgotten city are tall and crumbling, the stones and sand breaking apart as she walks; down winding twisting maze streets that have not seen human feet for centuries and centuries. A layer of dust and ash blanket the bleached world, grey on immaculately preserved coral doors and chairs; the glowing mako stones; a child's toy lying in a dead garden.
No one knows how we will end when the road stops, not even where we will end. Just pray even if no one will hear.
Small waves lick brown hide boots as she stands stone still at the edge of a bottomless pool. She wonders if the sands of Costa Del Sol are so white and so fine, if the water is as mirror-like that she may see herself in it. She wonders if the sky above the northern crater is grey, or maybe purple or maybe blue. She wonders if Cloud will miss her when she is gone, will he cry? She wonders of the countless things she has no answers to and that she will never know, because for her, everything ends here.
Down this one-way path to eternity. You can never go home again.
She will be but a memory when her prayer is done and Holy answers the planet's final cry. But as long as they remember, it is enough for her. It is enough.
