In the Shadow of the Water God

By Sephiroth_4000.

Smoke still rose from the shattered ruins of what had once been the mountain village Ido.  Mizuko Aoki turned from the window, her face as serene as the statue of the Wind Goddess Fuujin beneath her heay white makeup.  Her steps were smooth and unhurried, hair ornament swaying from the piled and intricately looped locks, as her maid, Narita waited patiently for her.

            The war with Shinra had taught them all patience.

            But now the war was over, leaving the Islanders peace forever shattered.  The plains village Wutai had survived, but Ido had not been so lucky.  And she, as the last of the ruling family, had no choice but to turn to Wutai for help.  How had the proud people of the mountains come to this? 

            She would not weep.  The time for sorrow had passed, and she would not shame the memory of her family, even as it truly died on this day.  This day where she would be wed to Godo Kisaragi, heir of the Pagoda of the Gods.  In turn, she would bring to Wutai the last symbol of Ido.

            The key to their god, the water serpent, Leviathan.  Found countless ages ago by her ancestors, revered as the source of their power.  Although Wutai had split off from Ido, they shared this root.  They too worshiped the great Water God.  And Mizuko could no longer care for it.  Better to go in the hands of those who could.

            Her inner meditation done, she started a little.  Until then, her movements had been but those of reflex, with her not really thinking of them.  They were approaching the Pagoda, where she would wed Godo.  And hopefully there marriage would be a good one.  By all means she had heard Godo was an honourable man, though with a devious mind.  Perhaps she would find contentment with him.

            She hoped.

            Years passed.  The war with Shinra became but a distant memory, though Wutai was less now.  It became a tourist village, the remnant of a proud people's heritage.  But it was a living.

            In this shadow of the former glory, Mizuko bore her husband a single daughter, whom they named Siang-Mei, for, like the oak she would have to endure.  And despite her fears, Mizuko found more then contentment with Godo Kisaragi.  Until one day, when Shinra came again.

            "Yuffie!"  Mizuko scolded.  Her daughter, looked up with an innocent smile, her yukata smeared with mud, as well as much of her face. 

            "Yes mother. . .?"  Only her eyes sparkled with mischief.

            Mizuko gave her an admonishing look, but ruined it by laughing.  "Clean yourself up young lady."

            "Yes mama. . . ."

            Mizuko shepherded her errant offspring back home, intending to dump her in the bath immediately and away from Da-Chao, where Yuffie had sneaked away to play in the mud.  She shook her head, wondering if Yuffie would ever truly grow up.  At five, she had followed her mother everywhere, anxious to learn the ways of a great lady. . .though true, later she had learned the arts of a warrior.  She smiled.  Eventually she had to get something into her stubborn daughter's head.

            Cries from the pagoda disrupted her thoughts.  She turned, instinctively thrusting Yuffie behind her defensively, even as Gorkki ran up, his face a mask of fear.  "Lady!" he called.  "Do not go to the Pagoda!  Protect the Water God-"

            His words were cut off, even as a tall SOLDIER cut him down from behind.  It was only a leg wound, but Gorkki went down hard, and did not rise.

            With a sense of trepidation, Mizuko regarded the tall soldier.  Easily six feet to her five feet three, he gazed down at her coolly from a set of aqua green eyes, shining with the power of Mako.  Daunting in black leather, with his long silver hair streaming down the middle of his back.  Of course.  They had sent Sephiroth, legendary from the war.

            She pushed Siang-Mei away from her, screaming for her to run, even as she launched herself at the SOLDIER, avoiding his slender blade, using the heavy folds of her robes to baffle him, whipping him in the face, creating confusion as to where she was.  She could not last long doing this.  Already he had cut her.  She flipped over his head, then dodged around, running for Da-Chao.  As soon as the cave came in sight, she lit up the flames inside with a single thought. 

            She headed further up the mountain, her breath coming fast, tripping, her once fine clothes in tatters, dirty and soiled from where she had fallen.  If only they had taken the trick.  For the "materia" as Shinra called it, was the keystone to summoning Leviathan.  Not a thing to use lightly.  But to these foreigners, the great god was but another tool, something for them to prod at with their science, to dissect and examine.  Gorkki had called out a code, and she had lit up the cave, where there was a treasure, but nothing that precious.  The keystone of Leviathan was with her daughter, Yuffie.  Little Siang-Mei, who had hopefully fled.

            A hand yanked hard on her trailing hair.  The world went dark, even as the flat of the Masamune connected solidly with her head.

            "Mama. . . .Mama. . .Mama. . . .Please wake up. . .Mama. . ."

            The world reformed. 

            She was uncomfortably tied up, her hands tightly bound behind her, and her ankles tied to her wrists, though not so tight to prevent circulation she noticed.  Yuffie was unbound, but she could see Godo behind her daughter, unconcious, a thin ribbon of blood snaking down his chin from his lip and nose.  "Husband," she whispered.

            "He'll be fine."

            Awkwardly, she swivelled herself over, to face where the cool voice had come from.   Her eyes eventually found Sephiroth, sitting quite comfortably behind a desk, feet propped up on it.

            "It's really very simple, Lady Kisaragi," he continued.  "Either you give me the Summon Materia Leviathan; or your lovely daughter and husband die.  And then I will torch Wutai until it burns to the ground."

            She clenched her jaw stubbornly.  "Better that, then for our God to be defiled."

            He raised a white eyebrow at that.  "Really."

            With a steely hiss, the sword Masamune slid out of it's sheath, seeming to leap into his hand.  She shouted for Yuffie to run, but he had her young child in a flash, the blade against her white throat.

            "Mama. . ." Yuffie whimpered.

            "You don't want her die, do you?" Sephiroth asked softly.  "So young.  Too young to die."

            Mizuko closed her eyes.   A tear writhed down one cheek. 

            "Mama!"

            With a sigh of disgust, Sephiroth pushed the girl away.  His bluff had been called.  Even if he killed everyone in this village, he would not find the Leviathan Materia.  And his mission was that.  Hojo would not be happy if all the Summons could not be found.

            He turned to the young girl.  "You don't want yourmother to die, do you?" he asked.  Not condescendingly, but earnestly, his deep green eyes boring into the child's frightenend brown ones.

            "N-no," she replied. 

            Mizuko looked on in horror.  "Yuffie, don't!  The Water God is more important then me, then your father, then the village!  Do not-"

            Her words were stopped even as Sephiroth calmly wrenched her head up, and forced a gag into her mouth, nimbly avoiding her attempts to bite him.  He even smiled slightly, amused at that.

            "Now." He took up his dialogue with the child.  "Do you know where the Leviathan Materia is?"

            "The shiny thing?"

            "Yes."

            His eyes were wide and trustworthy, and his body blocked Yuffie from seeing her mother shaking her head frantically, while she writhed across the floor, uselessly trying to talk through the gag.

            "I've got it.  Mama lets me play with it.  You can hear the Water God through it."

            His eyes widened further, in surprised interest.  "Really?  Could I. . .perhaps listen?"

            "Unh. . .Only our family is allowed to listen to it Mister.  It's sacred."

            Sephiroth smiled slightly, not allowing his frustration to show through.  "Really.  Well, what if we made a compromise.  You see, I have other materia."  He produced some other orbs, and Yuffie's dark eyes went round.

            "There's more!?"

            He nodded.

            Her brow creased for a moment.  Then she backed away, trying to see her mother.  "U-Untie my mother. . . .please. . .you'll hurt her like that. . .and she'd have to give permission first. . .You hurt her. . ."

            His pleasant expression disappeared in a flash, and he grabbed her easily.  "I'd have to hurt her a lot more. . .unless you show me Leviathan."

            She began to shake.  "Y-you won't hurt her if I give you the shiny stone?"

            "No.  You have my word."

            Gulping back tears, she fished around in the wide sleeves of her ukata, and found one of the pockets.  She pulled out the gleaming garnet Summon Materia, and handed it over to the SOLDIER.

            "Thank-you." He said politely, almost in mockery, before taking it.  He pulled out a small device, and showered pure Mako on the globe.  With a shudder, it divided into two smaller globed, identical, but less then the original.  He handed one back to the girl.

            Dismissing Yuffie as harmless, he turned, and slit the ropes on her mother.  "Shinra is not unmerciful," was all he said, though in truth, he had been told not to create too much of a ruckus.  Too many people still resented Shinra.

            He turned to leave, the centre of Wutai still in ruins.  Mizuko watched him go, disbelief etched upon her body.  "Sacrilege!" she screamed in anger, and fury.  Her father would be shamed forever if she let this go.  In sorrow she had let Ido fall.  In sorrow she had watched Wutai decline.  In sorrow she had watched Godo daily die a little more in shame.  No more.  All of this was because of Shinra. . .it was all that unholy company's fault!

            She leaped at the tall SOLDIER, fighting like a madwoman, all the loss she had ever experienced flooding through her.  No more would she accept.  If she died, her family would welcome her in the Heavens, and Godo would be proud of his warrior wife, whom many had made light of.  And she would not let Siang-Mei grow in shame, thinking that if you bent knee to evil, all would be well.  It was not enough to ignore. . .

            He swung around, sword materializing in hand.  In seemed to come forward so slowly, but why couldn't she avoid it. . .It sank deep into her chest, a wound she knew was fatal.  Pain blossomed, even as she fell back.  Distantly she could hear Yuffie screaming, even as the waves bore her to the West, to Eternal Paradise.  Her God accepted her, and she could see her father's proud face.

            Again, Wutai was in ruins.  On top of the sacred mountain, Da-Chao, Siang-Mei, Yuffie Kisaragi stood, the wind blowing out her long chocolate coloured hair.  Her father had collapsed, from both grief and his wounds, and it was up to her to scatter her mother's ashes to the four winds.  Grief overwhelmed her, as again she faced the devastating realization that it was her fault that her mother had died.  Her. . .and Shinra.  Bitter hate rose with her thoughts, a wave of grief and sorrow that never again she would see her mother.  Five years old was still old enough to comprehend that, that all that was left of Mizuko Aoki Kisaragi was in the small urn she held, ashes to scatter.

            Woodenly, she dug her small hand in, and scattered it first to the east, towards the sky that birthed the rising sun.  May Fuujin the Wind Goddess take her soul to Paradise.  She was born.  She lived.  She died, as is foretold for all.

            She scattered to the North, from which the wind blew from.  Remembrence.  Come, Wind Goddess, scatter the ashes high.

            She scattered to the South.  Mother was from the South.  Her village was south from Wutai.  It was burned as she burned later, bought down by the sword.  She died as her ancestors died.  May she return to them.

            And finally Yuffie scattered to the West, the direction of the home of the Gods, where her mother now dwelt.  The Gods gave her life.  And the Gods gave her death.  It is not a mortal's right to question the Water God.  As reasonable to ask why she lived, as to ask why she died.

            The urn was empty.  She let it drop, and shatter far below, and turned.  Like her mother she would fight.   She would fight until the end. 

            Eleven years later, she stood on board the Highwind, the wind once again ruffling her hair.  Long ago, she had lost the simple beliefs of the Gods, the belief that had sustained her long ago on top of Da-Chao.  Angry at her father, who never recovered from her mother's death, angry at Wutai, that soon returned to its' sleepy existence, as if nothing ever happened, she ran.  Materia in the end was all that mattered.  The power that would ensure that no one would, no, no one ever could never hurt her again.

            And then she had met Cloud and his friends, who accepted her.  True, at first it was only for her fighting skills at first, skills that she had honed, determined never to be helpless again as she had been helpless as a child when a nameless SOLDIER accosted her.  And realized that that SOLDIER had been the Sephiroth, whom Cloud and Company (As she thought of them at first) were pursuing.  But gradually it became more, they became her friends, even though they were an odd lot, as well as being a lot older then her.  And often condescending.  They were like. . .family.  And when Aeris died. . .

            It had been like seeing her mother die all over again.  The same slender blade, the same pitiless green eyes. 

            And now, he was dead.  But his work continued. . .Meteor would finish off them all. . .Even Holy had failed. . .

            And then the miracle happened. 

            In wonder she watched as the Lifestream approached, gently weaving it's strands of light.  And she could not think for a moment why those strands of living light should remind her of the light in her mother's eyes.