Author's Note: I have reworked bits of this chapter due to a review I received. Hopefully it proves a better read now than before. I would like to add that the third person bites are intentional and are a narrative on the settings, etc from an omnipresent source. If you have any suggestions or comments, leave a review and I'll get back to you about it. :)
...B E G I N...
p r e l u d e
Chapter I
Soft moonlight covered the cliff in sheer, velvety silver. Far below the rocky pinnacle, waves crashed with a steady rhythm that had remained the same for millennium and would continue to beat itself out until the end of the planet. No creatures stirred in the bleached, midnight world, the birds gone to roost and the normal nocturnal animals having scurried to their burrows. It seemed all was still, no noises save for the crashing of the ocean and the sighing, lonely wind that night. Finally, hesitantly, a soft sigh sent curious critters scattered back into the shadows from whence they had come. But then, all was still and silent once more.
On the highest point of the cliff, standing so still as to be mistaken for a statue was a lady. Dark hair rustled sadly in the wind, her chest barely rising as she breathed in the cool, salty air of the coast. She was oddly clothed for a night so cool and any normal human would have been shivering in the thin silk nightgown she wore. As if thinking upon this same topic, the woman's eyes gave an odd flicker, for it was indeed a flicker, as though her eye color had reversed itself from hazel to blue and back again. If you watched closely, you would see her nostrils flare as she exhaled slowly, silently, and closed her sorrowful eyes. After a long moment they opened. Once hazel and round pupil'd, they now resembled cat's eyes. But whereas a cat would not be thought strange to have startling blue-green eyes and a slit pupil, this was the very reason for which her's had become so odd.
As if remembering something that had been lurking on her mind, her lips, colored a soft, delicate pink that stood out well against her ivory skin, pursed into a small grimace. Barely visible in the low lighting, a pearly tear rolled down her cheek. She straightened defiantly, raised a shaky hand, and wiped away the tear quickly. Her mouth opened to speak, whether to calm or remind herself wasn't to be deciphered, but before any words came out she froze, eyes widening hopefully. Whirling, the woman glanced about quickly, and then wilted a little when not a soul was to be found behind her. Tonight was no different than any other where she had woken at midnight and was unable to fight the urge to run feverishly to this spot and stare out to sea for hours at a time. Who knew how many days, years even, it would be until she would come here and find something, anything, to mark the presence of another.
She uttered a low, yet loud, curse in a language rarely spoken, Latin it was called in this world, before stalking to the very edge of the cliff and, without pause, threw herself away from the comforting ground.
!~………………………………..~!
Falling was like flying, as they said, until you hit the ground. Then it was just falling and splatting like a fly who just wasn't fast enough to avoid the flyswatter. Fortunately for me, I had no intention of splatting. Wind whistled through my hair as I fell, the strands whipping at my face as though to scold me for my reckless actions. Twisting over onto my back so that I could watch the cliff wall race past me, or rather so I could watch my own self race past it, I continued my countdown. This was perhaps the hundredth time I had jumped from this cliff after all. Leaping from a three hundred foot cliff was practically rocket science to me. Oh, look, I'm at the count of five now, only two more seconds until I have to stop free falling, I thought rather wryly. And with another flip to face the ocean, I shot out my arms, enjoying the feeling of freedom as that secret side of me was revealed in one fluid motion. One wing is all I may have, but that was really all I needed. Never mind the physics of this world that said I shouldn't, in theory, be able to fly at all. What that logic failed to take into account was what and who I am. Silly humans, I was never able to refer to them as people when they were being close minded idiots, would get that item of knowledge on their need-to-know basis soon enough. For now, I was content to let them remain in the dark.
As the ocean roiled beneath me, barely a sword length away, I executed a nice swoop and skimmed over the whitecaps before banking hard to the right and propelling myself back up the cliff side. I had stayed as long as my body demanded, for what reason I couldn't ponder, and could return to my fitful sleeping. Just a few hundred yards away from the cliff's peak was home and an unfortunately cold bed just waiting for me to slip back under its covers and sink into a sleep pitted and pockmarked with garish nightmares and half forgotten tales. I grasped my right arm firmly as it panged briefly beneath the bandages that would be needed for who knew how long. As I drew my hand away, I noticed a few black smudges on my palm. Great. Sighing, I put my priorities in order. First home, then change bandages, throw this nightgown into the wash, and finally go back to bed.
Emerging up over the cliff, I leveled out my flight pattern and beat my way along the path towards the place I knew I would always return to – home.
!~………………………………..~!
The home was a modest place, which would've surprised many if they knew just who owned the house. Made of reclaimed wood, or wood that could be taken from old, weathered barns or what have you, the one story, minus the small storage space at the top, home held a rustic, cozy feel to it. It had, after all, been up to the woman currently flying towards it to design it. She wasn't about to let her house be grand and imposing and actually preferred the four bedroom, two bath setting. Yet, while the house didn't look it, she had placed all of the newest, most ergonomic devices within. High speed wifi was wired throughout the house to provide easy access to the intarwebz, as they were commonly referred to, while almost two thirds of the roof was taken over by solar paneling. Contrary to those panels, however, a small wood stove occupied the living room where it served to heat that room as well as provide aesthetic value. The rest of the house was heated by a single furnace.
While it might surprise some, only the master bedroom was occupied at the moment. She had been living with someone for the past two years, as well as housing a few friends if they were in the area, but the house was mostly empty now. A Spartan guest room had been set up in case of a surprise visit from a friend in the room directly opposite from the master bedroom where she slept. Sadly, this room was currently deserted, the door closed firmly against intrusion. The master bedroom's door was ajar and, should you glance inside, could be found to be almost lavish when compared to the other rooms' blank walls and empty spaces.
The walls had been painted a lovely shade of burgundy and the borders black to trick the mind into thinking the room was even larger than it really was. If you even stole a single glance at what covered the walls, an immediate knowledge that two people who were very different shared this room, yet somehow managed to keep each other in perfect balance. Intermixed with the oriental scrolls were copper toolings and hand carved figures from exotic locations. Against one wall, a simple, elegant black shelf was well stock with books ranging from paperback to limited edition hardcover, Shakespeare to sci-fi. The top shelf, however, held the various odds and ends the room's owners had collected over the years.
Three feathers, one pure white, another black-blue like a raven's feather, and the last one a matte black, rested upon a cherry wood jewelry box whose contents were constantly being removed and returned as the woman took them out to treasure and place upon the shelf for better viewing. Snuggled into one corner was a love seat draped with, of all things, a black leather trench coat that she couldn't bear to fold up and put away. And, finally, occupying the most space within the bedroom, was the king size bed that had taken forever to be decided upon. Both occupants on the room had different taste in what a comfortable bed was, so, of course, it was a struggle to find something they could both sleep on with ease. After almost a week of bickering, a mutual friend had given them a kick in the buttocks and set them straight. After that, it didn't take long for them to agree on something reasonable. A heavy quilt was draped across the bed, but another, softer, blanket was beneath it. A cracked window let air into the room and should you listen, the soft sound of a beating black wing was carried on the midnight wind.
!~………………………………..~!
The house was just below, the solar panels bleached to a light grey by the moon's rays, and all the grass gone to black in the shadow of my home. If you needed to see all the details to land in your own front yard, then you would be pretty well screwed right about how. Thankfully, I knew my way around my own house and, even if I did need light to land, I could see perfectly fine in the blackness. Course, I did forget to put on my glasses or contacts before rushing out to the cliff, so everything was a bit blurry unless I was within 6 feet of it. Oh well, didn't bother me much. With a practiced back-wing I was on land again, settling gracefully, or what I hoped was graceful, back onto my feet. Reluctant to hide my wing again, I simply folded it closer to my back as I walked up the worn dirt path that led to the porch. Third step creaking like it always did when someone put or took weight off of it. I stopped to glance back the way I had come. A quick survey proved nothing had followed me, just like I had figured, but it was a habit I had never quite gotten over after active duty for all those years. Letting myself in through the front door, I closed it quietly behind me and locked it with a flick on my pointer finger.
As soon as I was inside, I let out a short ping to make sure no one had intruded. Luckily for me, nothing had. And in case you're wondering, since you probably are, a "ping" is like mental radar. I came up with the name 'cause I always imagined that it would sound like a ping. Yeah, I'm weird, but its an easy name to use and remember, so it works. Walking the route to my bathroom, I began to unwind the soiled bandage from my arm. Another grimace began to lurk on my face as my bicep twinged warningly and for a moment I was worried that it would go into a full blown weeping bout. Thankfully, it didn't and I was able to escape to the bathroom to clean it up a little. Taking another look at the Geostigma I was inflicted with, I frowned heavily. It seemed to be getting worse and I didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Probably bad, but there wasn't much I could do about it besides keeping it bandaged and salved up. Without thinking, I flipped on the lights and opened the cabinet to my left. Knowing exactly where everything was, I grabbed a clean bandage and that handy dandy salve while simultaneously throwing the soiled bandage into the laundry basket normally reserved for towels. I was applying salve to the 'Stigma, the green paste mainly just useful for controlling the flaking of the skin when another of the feelings that he was here hit me. Caught off guard as I was, I had looked up with the question "Why are you up so late?" ready on my tongue only to have it die on my lips when I saw, not for the first time, that only empty air was there.
Grunting in annoyance, and more than a little pain, I smacked the salve shut a little more forcefully than I normally would have and stood up. Of course, my attempt at being in a pissy mood so late at night was again thwarted, this time by a nasty head rush I got from standing too quickly. Weaving slightly, I put my gear away and tottered back towards bed, flinging my dirty nightgown at the washing machine as I passed the laundry room, and clapped hands across my chest in an attempt to hide anything sensitive from the cold air. Skittering into my bedroom, I glanced hopefully at the bed, though my mind was quick to tell me there was no way I'd see a certain person waiting for me, and wasn't disappointed when I saw empty sheets and blankets just as I left them.
Giving a small, snuffling sigh, I had begun to wander towards bed when my eyes caught sight of the black trench coat I had left draped across the love seat for almost two months now. Another sigh and I found myself instead pattering over towards it. With a great effort of will, I forced myself to pick the garment up off the seat and give it a gentle shake to get the dust off. After a moment of thought, I pulled it snug around my shoulders, just as amused as the first time at how large our differences were. A good five inches of it, or more, brushed the ground and I could probably fit two of me inside it. No matter how funny I looked in it, it was some measure of comfort to have this last reminder wrapped around me. If I closed my eyes, I could almost trick myself into thinking he was still around.
But, I still missed him and not even years could heal the pain. Someday, I was sure I would be able to think about him without feeling a rift open up in my heart, but that time certainly wasn't now. ShinRa had been fools, utter fools, and if they had allowed Gaia to right itself, none of this would've happened. As it was, I was stuck wondering if I would ever have my 'family' reunited and whole again. That frustrated me so much that I almost cried before regaining my composure and stalking over to the love seat and plopping down on top of it. I knew I was brooding again, something Zack had always tried to prevent me from doing, but dammit, I could brood over the inequality of it if I wanted to. Yet, even as I thought more and more about it, so did the urge to weep grow.
"No," I said softly to myself, tears threatening. It was late and I was getting overly sentimental. Reluctantly shedding the coat, I smoothed out the wrinkles one last time before placing it back on the loveseat. I slunk slowly over to my bed, the twisted covers and heavily wrinkled sheets displaying that, yet again, I was becoming subject to nightmares in my sleep. It took me a while to remake my bed, but once done I crawled gratefully back under the warm covers.
Yet, sleep didn't come for a long while to me and when it did, it was haunted by ghosts of the past I couldn't help but think haunted ShinRa's head honcho as well. Someday, maybe he'd learn from his mistakes and they would leave him be. But, if that was the case, then I could also conclude I had something to learn from my past mistakes as well. I liked to think they were less horrific than ShinRa's and, hopefully, they were.
END CHAPTER I