DISCLAIMER: I don't own FFVII, nor Sephiroth, nor Angeal, nor Genesis, nor Zack… must I carry on enumerating all the hot guys I can't put my hands on? They belong to Square-Enix T.T
Lysa and Linneth are of my invention. Victor and Iarba make their cameos thanks to NoBuddy. By the way, we have made draws of Victor and Lysa at DeviantArt.
Victor: http : (doubleslash)nobuddy-else./art/Victor-84265990#
Lysa: http : (doubleslash)glaurung-ii./art/Lysa-84600546
Beware of mild angst, and tons of romantic stuff.
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Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares.
Dante's Prayer – Loreena McKennit.
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Darkness surrounded him. Darkness and silence.
"Am I dead?"
He had fought against him, his best friend, his brother.
Genesis had raided Midgar, filling it with his clones. What else he could do but to try to stop him? The last thing he remembered was clashing his sword against Genesis' above the city, then he had lured him to the mountains, were they could harm no one.
Then, slowly, a faint ache began to grow within him, until it became a constant discomfort. He stirred, trying desperately to shake the numbness in his mind. Next he became aware of being in some warm place and he could hear a weak murmur, but could not apprehend what it was at first. With great effort he opened his eyes, to be greeted with a powerful white light. He closed them wincing and tried to shield his eyelids with his hand, but he was still too weak to move.
He heard the murmur again, this time louder and clearer; it was a voice, a human voice. He opened his eyes again and saw that between him and the light a white figure was standing. Wavy golden locks framed a feminine face, pale and delicate, and two brilliant sky-blue eyes peered at him with mingled worry and relief.
"Goddess…?" he whispered in a hoarse voice. What had gotten into him to believe Genesis' stories he didn't know.
She smiled and the light receded. They were in a normal room, and the illumination came from the window behind the girl.
"I'm no Goddess" she said in a soft and melodious voice. "My name is Lysa. I found you wounded in the forest and brought you to my house. How do you feel?" she asked.
"I… I'm… dazed."
"That's normal. You need to rest until you're fully recovered."
That was impossible. There was no time left, he had to chase after Genesis. He and Sephiroth were the only ones who could stand against him, and Sephiroth could not fly. He tried to move, but he was so drained out that his body didn't respond.
He felt a soft hand on his brow. She was brushing away some rebel strands from his face. How much time had passed since he had been cared for? Since he was a child and lived in Banora with his parents.
A deep pang in his chest remembered what had happened: Banora was now nothing but a devastated town, his mother had taken his life right in front of him and he had discovered that he was a monster.
"I'm so sorry my dear Angeal. It's my fault that you and Genesis are now suffering. I pursued knowledge above all, but I forgot to search first for the needed wisdom to handle it. I cannot live with this weight in my heart. But remember, my son, that I always loved you and always will."
Those last words were going to be engraved in his heart until the end of his days, along with the image of his mother lying on the floor, after poisoning herself. He remembered that he didn't react, not even when Zack had arrived and misinterpreted the scene. He didn't noticed how much it affected him and that he still hadn't cried over her, until he felt a soft hand wiping away the tears running down the sides of his face.
"Sleep now" she commanded as she caressed softly his eyelids and he felt darkness claiming him again.
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Sky-blue eyes opened slowly and blinked several time to adjust his vision. He was still in the room, but the girl was absent.
Angeal sat up with effort, for he was still weak. The room was simple, yet comfortable. A soft light poured through the white curtains, softly moved by the breeze. Outside, birds and the sound of running water could be heard. He noticed that he was wearing only his fatigues, the rest of his clothes neatly folded and arrayed on a nearby table. Even his sword was against the wall. Surely there was at least a man living here. She looked so fragile… it was impossible for her to have tended him all by herself. But maybe it had been a hallucination.
He felt the Mako begin to fill up again his stamina reserves. Yes, he could walk again if he tried. The SOLDIER perched on the bed and put his feet on the floor. He felt a little dizzy, but that didn't stop him. He staggered to the table and picked up his belongings, to part as soon as possible. He unfolded his top and stared at the large rip through his right backside: she had repaired it. A pity her work would have to be undone as soon as his wings came out again.
Just when he was about to finish, the door opened quietly and she appeared. Now he could see her clearly.
Her golden hair fell on soft waves beyond her slender shoulders, framing a pale and delicate face, now graced with a smile on her coral lips and her huge blue eyes shone with mirth. She wasn't clad in white, though, but in a pale shade of green.
"I see you're awake now" she said cheerfully as she approached him. She was real, yet appeared strangely out of this world. "How do you feel?"
"I think I'm fine, thanks."
She laughed, a sound like clear water. "I can see it."
"It takes a bit more than that to knock me down" said Angeal, and he could not prevent a sheepish smile.
"You shouldn't have moved out of the bed" she said. "You have been sleeping all this past two days."
"Two days?" he almost wailed. It was impossible, now where was he supposed to find Genesis? He needed to convince him to stop this madness.
"Yes, two days" she said with her calm voice. "And I think it's a miracle that you are still alive, after that fall. I know SOLDIERS are stronger than common people, but I feared you wouldn't make it."
"You… saw me falling?"
She nodded. "You were fighting against the other one. I could see the flashes from here. Then you fell and I ran to help you. But when I found you your wing had disappeared. I sewed your clothes; maybe when you want to fly again they will tear again but", she shrugged, "it's not nice for a SOLDIER to go around with his uniform in bad shape, isn't it?"
Angeal gaped at her. She had seen him and Genesis flying, and yet she was talking to him with such familiarity.
"Why aren't you afraid?"
"Why should I?" her huge blue eyes gleamed with interest and amusement.
"Well…", he rubbed the back of his head, mildly confused by her apparent naïveté "it's not normal to have a wing."
"No, you're right" she said, tilting her head to one side. "You should have two. How can the two of you fly with only one wing?"
"I… don't know. We were not supposed to have wings at all."
"Why not?" Lysa said with mild wonder.
"I…" this conversation was beginning to turn uncomfortable for him. "Lysa, I'm grateful for all what you have done for me, but I must go."
"Have I said something wrong?" she asked, clearly worried.
Angeal smiled sadly and shook his head. "No, but I have something urgent to do. I must go."
"Was the other man someone evil?"
"No."
Genesis wasn't evil. We were all driven to this madness without asking for it.
"I've become a monster" he had said to Zack. "As a monster the only thing I can think of doing is world conquest or revenge."
"I understand" she said softly, interrupting his musing. Did she really understand? Angeal looked at the girl. Her blue eyes were warm and gentle. Only to look into them soothed his pain.
"I… I'd like to compensate you. And the ones that helped you."
She smiled and shook her head. "No one helped me. I live here alone. But you're free to compensate me."
"Oh", he blushed suddenly. Her ease made him feel shy as a boy. "Then, what should you ask me?"
"Very simple: Your name."
He went even redder and felt like a complete moron. "Angeal" he said quickly, "Angeal Hewley, at your service" he finished with a courtesy, trying to repair is rudeness.
The girl giggled almost childishly. How old could she be? She had the manners and the slender frame of a young woman, yet in her eyes a trained observer could see the quietness and wisdom of someone who had seen and known many things.
"Are you sure you want to leave?"
"I must" said Angeal, "but it doesn't mean that I want to."
Had he said that? He felt the blood again rushing to his face. She, on the other hand, kept looking at him with a slight smile. She appeared to be considering something.
"Well then" she answered after a while, "I'll guide you outside."
They crossed the little house and emerged in one of the forest's clearances. They were near the mountains, where the terrain was beginning to rise and the wood was growing thicker. A stream ran near the cottage and its murmur filled the air. It was a beautiful place to live, for there were few people who dared to approach those places.
"Isn't it dangerous to live here alone?" he asked.
"I can defend myself" it was hard to believe at first sight, but Angeal had to remember that she had managed to carry him to her house. "Besides", she continued as she looked upon the lands below, "this place gives me the peace I need."
Her face grew serious for the first time. Angeal could not tear his eyes from her. Her pale face acquired then the serenity of the marble statues he had seen before. Statues of…
"Angels."
Lysa turned her blue eyes to him and the man felt like she was piercing his soul with them, tearing layer after layer, until finding the core.
"Why did you ask me if I was afraid?" she said.
"I…"
What he should say to a creature like her? She was pure and clean as the water of a mountain spring, luminous as the sunlight and the depths of her eyes were mysterious as the night itself. Angeal turned his back on the small woman, feeling dirtier than ever and no longer able to look at her beauty.
"I… I am a monster" he said in a husky voice.
"Why?"
Angeal hesitated, but there was no turning back. She had seen his deformity already so there was no point on hiding it.
Two white wings, one of them too small even for flying support, emerged from his right side, ripping through the fabric of his wool top.
"Would you call me human?" he demanded in a bitter voice, his back still turned to her. "I'm nothing but a monster."
"Then", she said with her melodious voice, "should I call myself a monster too?"
The SOLDIER turned to face her. Words froze in his throat and a hoarse gasp escaped from his lips.
Four pristine wings surrounded her slender form, the long soft feathers rocking gently with the mountain breeze.
She was an angel, a true angel.
"Tell me", she repeated, "do I look like a monster to you?"
He was at a loss for words and only lowered his head. Then he heard the dim sound of her little feet in the grass, approaching, and then the blue depths of her eyes filled all his view.
To make such a lovely creature like her join their particular hell. How could they? How dared they?
"How did this happen?", he asked in return. "When did they do this to you?"
"I've always been like this, if you refer to my wings."
"I… didn't discover them until recently."
"That explains why your second wing is so weak."
Angeal looked at her, frowning and wondering if she was another victim.
"Lysa, are you hiding from Shinra?"
She shook her head. "Shinra doesn't know that I exist, yet we know what they did to you and your brothers" to his puzzled gaze she explained further. "The only thing you should know is that you are no monster, yet you are no human either."
"Then, what are we?"
"That is something you should discover by yourself. Those wings belong to you and only you long before you were born."
They fell silent for a long time, lost in the blue ponds of the other's eyes. It was him who broke the silence. Though his voice was low and husk, to him sounded unpleasant like the cry of the crow.
"Lysa, I wish I could stay, or at least return to you. But there is something I must do and I'm afraid that I won't survive. There is so much I wish to learn, I…"
Slender fingers caressed his lips, rending him to silence. Then her hand moved to his cheek and stayed there. He closed his eyes, enjoying her soft and warm touch, as if he was spellbound.
"If you can't say that we will meet again, then I'll promise it to you" she said softly.
He opened his eyes and looked at her "Lysa…"
"I will find you when you are ready. I promise" abruptly, she broke the contact and backed away. "Now go, you still need to find you path."
Angeal stood in silence, his skin aching to feel her warm contact again. He didn't care to hide his yearning, his desire to extend his hand and reach for her and she must have noticed it, for the faint blush that crept to her cheeks and the mild surprise that shone in her eyes.
Then the unbelievable happened.
She approached him again and, tiptoeing, pressed her lips against his. He eagerly complied and found himself throwing his arms around her narrow waist, while she ran her fingers through his raven hair. They lost track of time and kept on embracing, kissing and caressing the other, until she reluctantly broke the contact with his lips. Angeal lowered his head to touch her brow with his. And thus they remained still, not willing to let the other go.
"You must go, Angeal" she whispered at last as she caressed his face.
He gave her a last passionate kiss, trying to carve in his mind how her slender body felt against his, how her lips tasted, how soft her hands were.
When they broke again she stepped away in silence. Words were not needed, for they could see the longing in the other's eyes, mingled with the faint uneasiness about not seeing the other again.
As Angeal looked at her for the last time she gave him a final smile. Then he turned and leapt to the sky, flapping his wings in search for Genesis. But in his mind still lingered the last sight of her, so pale and frail, a single ray of light among the forest's twilight.
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A man and a woman perched on the cliff on a snowy mountain. The sunset light colored their white surroundings with a reddish hue, remembering them of the blood that had to be spilled today. If not for the wind, which played with their locks, their white wings and their still behavior gave them the appearance of marble statues. The golden haired woman seemed oblivious to her companion, her blue eyes lost in the distance and silent tears rolling down her pale cheeks.
"So you met him at last" said the dark haired man in a quiet voice, breaking the thick silence.
"Yes."
"And he loved you."
"Yes."
"Your love has been returned and you will see him again. Then, why do you cry?"
"It is not the fear of not seeing him again", she said in a quavering voice, "but the knowledge that he's going to suffer greatly."
Victor said nothing. Lysa had been one of the three angels assigned to watch over Angeal and his brothers since they were born in Gaia. All had been chosen to balance their protégées' characters: Iarba, the oldest of the guardians, had been assigned to the temperamental Genesis, for she was the calmest and most collected of them. Linneth was the next in age, she possessed the warmest heart and was the most outgoing of them, thus she had been instructed to look after the introvert Sephiroth. And Lysa, the youngest and the rebel one, she was told to watch over the righteous Angeal.
She had known his angelic spirit and witnessed how he had managed to maintain his pureness. She paid numerous visits to him, always in disguise, and throughout the years she had learnt to love him, for even in his human form he was fair and noble, mirroring his angelic soul.
Now Lysa had faced him, something Iarba and Linneth had always disagreed with, but she loved him so much that she could not help it. And in his eyes she had seen love and desire: that he yearned for her as much as she longed for him. Thus, she yielded into his arms.
"Will I be able to lessen his suffering?" she asked, though she knew the answer.
"Suffering gives us the judiciousness needed to deal with knowledge" said the angelic mentor. "You know it as well as I do."
She muffled a sob with little success. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and raised her eyes, just to meet two dark pools of wisdom.
"You will be able to heal all his wounds when the time is right" said Victor. "And to teach him how is to be an angel."
"Weren't you supposed to do that?"
He shook his head and a warm smile graced his lips. How much he looked like Angeal when he did that. "To teach requires a great proximity with the pupil. There is no other more appropriate than the loved one."
She smiled back in gratitude. "Thank you, Victor."
"There is no need."
Lysa wiped away her tears and looked back at the little village below them.
"The first thing I loved of him" she said, "was how disciplined he was, how he treasured honor above all, how he remembered his poor past though he lived in a big city, with all the comforts at his hand. He's a great warrior. He could have been an excellent human."
She fell silent and closed her eyes to picture his face again. His male features, though stern, were softened greatly by the gentleness in his blue eyes, his surprisingly soft skin, the silkiness of his jet black hair, the warmth of his arms and the firmness of his strong body.
"The time is near" Victor announced in a soft voice.
Lysa rose from her sitting position. "Then I must hurry."
"Farewell, Lysa", said Victor without moving or rising his eyes to see her.
She smiled to him. "Don't say that. You know we will meet again."
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The boy had left long ago, taking the sword with him. The rain had ceased too, but the warehouse's interior remained dry. Through the broken ceiling the reddish light of the sunset bathed the body of the fallen warrior, surrounded by scattered white feathers. His previously raven hair was now mingled with silver streaks and his body showed the signs of the genetic deterioration. Still, his lips were curled in a peaceful smile and the numerous creases that had crossed his face were gone now, for death had brought him the peace he had been searching for so long.
He had regained his pride as a SOLDIER.
Angeal opened his eyes tiredly to see the red sky. "So this is how it ends."
He lamented above all that he had to die alone now that he felt the cold hands of Death crawling through his body.
He remembered Sephiroth. Now he was alone, the last of the three brothers. Images of them together, talking, joking, sparring… things that would never happen again.
And Zack. He could still hear him sobbing like a child. That's how he was, pure and noble. With time he would be a caring leader. The only thing he feared was that he could not be as stern as it was required.
His mind wandered then, and he remembered waking up in that cottage and meet Lysa, so lovely, so beautiful. He would never see her again; he would never have the opportunity to learn from her, to really know her.
To love her.
A sudden worry grew in his heart, that Lysa was discovered and hunted down like Genesis and himself. He should have told Sephiroth about her, or at least Zack. Now she would be unguarded against Shinra and whatever they wanted to do with the girl, should they find her.
Suddenly, white light poured through the broken ceiling, but it didn't blind him as it would have done. He could do nothing but stare at that light and feel the warmth that now surrounded him.
He let out a gasp.
A frail winged figure stood above his fallen body. Her blue eyes looked at him with love and kindness as she extended one of her little white hands to reach for him.
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