Empty Eyes and Heroes
It was strange that a town like Neiblheim was so insignificant when compared to everything else that happened, yet meant so much to those involved. It had been a town of good, solid people, used to hard work and harsher weather.
They had to be. Tucked up safely in the heights of Mt. Neibel, the biting winds made life difficult. Perhaps it was because they were so isolated that the people of the town felt outsiders were an unwelcome intrusion.
It was no surprise then, that when the woman, heavy with child though she was, stumbled into town one crisp summer day, she was offered no help, only met with suspicious glares or disapproving frowns.
Only one couple reached out to help the young woman. They took her in, clothed and fed her, and when her son was born they set the small family up in a neighboring house. Feeling their job done, the couple was content to ignore the woman and her child, especially when they were blessed with their own daughter.
The son quickly became the woman's only solace in her forced isolation. With his striking blue eyes and soft blonde hair that spiked in every direction, he was a bright spot in those first difficult years. Yet as he grew, he began resembling the one who had driven her to this lonely life, and looking at him became painful.
The boy was a solemn child, quiet and shy. The other children in the village gleefully and cruelly imitated their parents, shunning and bullying the boy for his outsider blood.
What hurt the boy most, however, was the way no one would look at him. The adults would ignore him, filling the air with their fierce disapproval; the children laughed and taunted, but never came close, never bothered to think he was worth anything; and his mother would stare right through him, eyes empty yet full of indescribable hurt and sorrow.
He wished he were like the girl next door. With her shiny brown hair and sparkling brown eyes, she was the center of attention, followed around by the other children, smiled at by every adult, doted upon by her parents.
Often he would crouch in the bushes outside her window, hoping for a glimpse of her alone, without her entourage. He imagined that she would glance out the window and spot him, yellow hair bright against the surrounding green. A spark of mischief would lead her to open the window and call out to him, talk to him. Perhaps they would talk all night, hushed whispers carrying easily in the cool night air. Or maybe she'd boldly climb out the window and down to him, and they'd run off to have wonderful adventures together.
But his dreams were always shattered by the cold mountain wind, which chased him all the way to his lonely home.
As the years passed, he continued to live as a ghost; passing through life as if he wasn't really there at all.
When whispers of war reached their lonely mountain, many of the other children, all young adults now, talked excitedly of the fame and riches they would earn. The boy kept to the background, silently wishing for achievements of his own, but knowing he'd never be accepted, never be needed.
When the soldiers came, the whole town buzzed with excitement. The usual distrust of strangers was put aside as gossip flew and the town enjoyed the break from the usual. Recruitment posters went up all over town, each promising glory to all who joined.
That night, while the rest of the town slumbered, the boy crept through the empty streets, heading for his hiding spot amidst the bushes. A raucous laugh startled him to stillness, and he shrank into the shadows as a pair of soldiers staggered drunkenly by.
His nerve shaken, he decided to abandon his plan for tonight and return home. He turned silently, then stumbled backward, eyes wide as he was caught, caught by the green eyes boring into him. He couldn't even swallow past the lump in his throat, and his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would leap from his chest. He'd never been looked at like this, like he was the only one that mattered, and he was scared and exhilarated all at once.
The moment passed, though it seemed like a lifetime, and slowly his breathing eased, his heart returning to normal. The beautiful green eyes that had so captured him didn't move, didn't blink, and it slowly dawned on the boy that he had merely spotted one of the recruitment posters.
The owner of the eyes was The General. The strongest fighter, and only the best, only the SOLDIERs, even got a chance to get close to him. It was that moment that the boy decided, decided to become one of those elite fighters who were allowed to stand by that man's side. He'd return to the village a hero, and then the girl next door would finally, finally see him.
He took a deep breath, then another, and only then did he tear his eyes away from the poster. A warm feeling filled his chest, and he stumbled home blindly, still feeling the aftershocks of that piercing gaze. His mind raced with possibilities, and he dared to hope that there was something good, something better out there.
The soldiers left the next day, and his eyes followed them as his hands gripped the window sill he leaned against. He was still young, too young, to leave the village by himself, but soon he'd be free.
The bubble of hope stayed with him over those last long months of waiting. He never forgot those eyes, even when the posters were long taken down and the war over. So when the girl next door fell down the mountain, abandoned by her friends, he was there, desperately reaching because he could be a hero, he could.
On his last night in his home town, he called that girl to the well, and they talked of hopes and dreams. He left her there with a promise; to come when she was in trouble, to always be her hero.
Greetings all, Dragon-sama here. When exactly did Cloud decide to become a SOLDIER? This is just an exploratory piece on how this might have come about. Because Cloud almost has the monopoly on emo. :)
