The characters in this story are the sole property of Square-Enix.
WHAT DREAMS MAY COME
TRANSITION - 4
It had been cloudy all day with rain continually threatening but never quite carrying through on the promise. The day had been a bad one for Nooj because of the chilly and soggy air which wrapped around him like a clammy blanket. As he grew older, approaching an age he had never expected to see, parts of his body seemed to be wearing out. The nerves and muscles which powered his prosthetic arm and leg were not so efficient as they had been at the beginning nearly a quarter of a century ago. Everything had become more difficult. The pain which had largely disabled him in the early years after his maiming and which had never really left, only being pushed aside by an act of will, had returned with increased strength and made him short-tempered and distracted. He could still feel the missing parts of his body and still mourned for what he had been.
In this, the late afternoon, the dimness of the room reflected the heaviness of his spirit. The high ceiling above the ordered ranks of books trapped the remnants of shadows like so many cobwebs, thick with time and memories. Because he could not climb ladders to pluck volumes from high shelves, the area within his reach had been expanded by an ingenious design of alcoves and niches. These crevices held their own fragments of darkness so that the room was a honeycomb of greys and blacks.
The master of this house and lord of this library sat in a chair on the side of the room furtherest from the tall windows, a small table at his elbow. He seemed lost in thought but was, instead, sorting through a mind clouded with images, factual and invented, past and far past. He had not thought to have had the time to accumulate so much mental rubbish and so his brain had become an attic with the debris of his life stacked like so many boxes, long closed, and doubly sealed with the dust of neglect. He wanted to turn away from thoughts painful to re-visit but found himself trapped like a fly in those entangling memories. He knew he should leave this cheerless room but that, also, seemed too difficult to manage. He was very tired.
Today had been especially troublesome since the knee of the left leg had stopped responding. He had to manually bend and straighten it when he sat or stood and his walking gait was clumsier than ever. He thought with nostalgia of Gippal, the Al Bhed engineer who had kept him agile even in the midst of the fouling sands of the desert. He had driven away that good man years ago, unable to bear the trusting and affectionate friendship which he felt he did not deserve. He had isolated himself from all others who had called him 'friend' for much the same reason. Solitude was his refuge and his punishment.
"I could have told you it was the wrong thing to do, but you never would listen." The voice came from the adjacent corner where the shadows were densest.
Nooj spun about. "Who is it? I said I wanted to be alone."
"You always said that and I never paid any attention." The voice was the one he would never forget, the one familiar as few voices were any longer.
"Paine! How did you get here?" He squinted to make out the figure emerging from the dusk. "Is Buddy with you?"
"No. I'm alone and I'm here because you need me." She was in her leathers, lithe and beautiful as ever, seemingly unchanged by the years since they had parted.
"Need you? I'm all right. My life is just as I planned it." He started to stand but she gestured for him to stay in his chair.
"I won't stay long. I just had to come check on you. It's been a long time." She stood before him, her calloused palm resting lightly on the surface of the table. "Have you been cleaning your weapons?" She nodded at the pistol lying near her hand and raised a skeptical eyebrow.
He did not meet her eyes. "Yes. It doesn't do to let these machina gadgets get corroded. Look at my leg."
She frowned at the rigid limb. "Can you lubricate it? Or have someone in to work on it?"
He watched her long competent fingers brush the unyielding metal and wished he could feel her touch. "I suppose so but it's too much trouble and there's a long waiting list for Al Bhed technicians these days."
"You're the Meyvn. You could pull rank and have a man over here before night."
"I've retired, Paine. I have no rank to pull anymore." He dropped his head onto his hand, cradling his forehead.
"There've been other changes, I see. You've grown thinner. You've cut your hair and it's almost the same colour as mine."
"It was too much trouble to keep it the way I used to wear it and, anyway, there's no reason any more for me to be instantly recognizable on the battlefield. You look as young as the day we ..." He hesitated.
"Well, my hair always was grey and I've tried to keep active. ... Nooj, I'm a mother now. Buddy and I have two kids, a boy and a girl. They keep me young."
"A mother? Does the girl look like you?" He sounded exhausted as though speaking was almost too difficult.
"My dear, are you hurting?" She moved a step nearer and peered at him closely.
"No more than usual." He lied.
She tapped her foot. "I could always tell when you were being all brave and stoic. Here, I have one of Baralai's pills with me." Her voice became gentle and compassionate, no longer the firm tone he remembered. His vision dimmed.
Yuna held out her soft white hand with the familiar tablet centered in her palm. "Here. Take this. You know it always helped with the pain." She was wearing her White Mage dress and was making ritualized motions with the staff in her other hand.
"You're not Paine!" Nooj did not recognize her in the faint light. "What have you done with her?"
"Nooj! What's the matter with you? Are you all right? I'm right here. I'm Paine, remember me?" He looked up into her worried crimson eyes.
He reached to touch her but she quickly moved away. "Who are you, really? Why are you here?" There was a ragged edge to his voice.
The room was darkening as the clouds thickened. The figure of the only woman he had ever loved became less distinct as she drifted toward the corner from which she had emerged.
"I'm Paine and I care about you. Even now. Now especially." Her voice became steadily fainter and he leaned forward as though to hold her with his eyes and outstretched hand.
Then it was dark, a darkness not of the coming of night but a darkness born of the extinction of light itself. A figure formed out of the darkness, only scarcely less dark than the shadows themselves. A tall, stern woman with a star-lit face, draped in the gauzes of night, bearing a great sword in her right hand. Nooj recognized it as his own sword, the one which had been shattered at the same time Sin had shattered his body. And he knew the woman, with a sudden insight which cut through the clotted darkness and showed her clearly and sharply defined.
He pushed himself up from his chair and, gripping his cane, made to go toward the eidolon. A wave of vertigo overwhelmed him and he fell heavily, his cane skittering out of his reach and his spectacles flying from his face. Peering upward, he strained to make out the features of the Dark Lady but could see only the brightening sword - his sword - pointing toward the darkest darkness. He pulled himself to his elbows and digging his fingers, both the flesh and the metal, into the carpet, began to drag himself toward the shadows.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
1