GAIA'S NAVEL, WORLD D.

PRIOR TO THE DAY OF CID.

THE FLOWER GIRL

Consider the moth. An unassuming creature, moths begin their lives just as butterflies do. They start out as larva, then encompass themselves in cocoons and undergo a transformation which leads them to emerge as the moth we all know. Butterflies are beloved for their beauty, and renowned as a metaphor for how small and simple beginnings can end in breath taking allure. But what of the moth, who undergoes a similar transformation, but remains as bland as it was before?

We have only one saying with regards to moths. "Like a moth to a flame." We use it with regards to those beings which are inevitably drawn toward something, in a way that is inescapable. And what of the moth? Why is it drawn to the flame and not the flower, like its cousin? The flower is as captivating as the flame, is it not? Yet the moth chooses to fly into what it must know is its destruction, rather than choose that which is wholesome and life giving.

Beauty is the flame to which men all flock. For a beautiful woman, a man will sacrifice and compromise everything about himself. Every man is drawn to it, to beautiful women. They captivate him, ensnare him, and like the flame, will destroy him if he is not careful. But man, like the moth, is perhaps incapable of resisting his fate.

Women, then, must choose what they will do with the fates of men. Will a woman be a flame, and call the moths down to satisfy her passions, or will a woman be a flower, and wait patiently for the coming of her butterfly? If men are powerless to resist women, then it falls to a woman to make certain that a man finds peace, respite, and safety in her bosom, and not a flame which will consume him until there is nothing left.

Seated on the dais of stonework in the middle of the garden called Gaia's Navel in the World we made from our dreams, I pondered the events which had lead me to it. Theodor had returned to the side of Chaos, and at last our plan had been set in motion. A plan neither he nor I fully understood at that point.

Our belief was this: that Heaven and Hell were wrong. What "wrong" entailed, we were not certain, only that something was fundamentally off about it all. It began when we met, I suppose, the feeling that everything was somewhat askew. We talked that whole day, and then the next. His descriptions of the wars he'd fought for Chaos sounded not unlike the dreams a friend of mine had had. Yet these things were completely opposite the records given by all of Heaven and Hells' governments. Yet he remembered these things, and they were vivid, like the dreams of my friend.

Then, as we conversed, he mentioned something. He mentioned a dream of his own. A dream he had had, that he could not quite shake off. A simple enough dream, but one that would become the singular motivation for our every action.

"I dreamt of a flower," he said, "a rose, that seemed to glow as I held it. When the petals fell away, I followed them until I came upon a field that was all full of flowers. At last I observed that it was not simply a field, but in fact an entire world of flowers. I had never been so happy as I was in that moment."

When I shared this dream with my friend, he smiled at me and said, "I know this dream, I've had it, too."

From there Theodor and I began to investigate. We found that many who had fought in the Dissidiae between Chaos and Cosmos had had this same dream. We infiltrated the bowels of Hell and found that even there, several were who had dreamt of this world full of flowers.

And that became our obsession. Our very goal. Our purpose. The end to which I and Golbez have striven all this time is exactly that: The world full of flowers. This is our dream, our philosophy, and our hope. All our work has been to this end.

It's an apt comparison, I think. Flowers and flames. Now I am aware that there are those who, with their plans, would engulf us in their flames. They would have us believe we are drawn to this end no matter what; that all things must end in destruction. But is that the case? Is Kefka's famous speech truth, or lies? I reject it. Death is not the end of all things. Life is the end of all things. Life carries on, even after death, in one way or another. The butterfly will still flock to the flower as the moths carelessly throw themselves into the flames. We aimed to fill the world with so many flowers they choked out the flames.

Golbez donned his armor and joined the Doctor for the sake of Chaos as a part of this plan. We knew a war was imminent, and had prepared ourselves for gathering more data. Golbez would be searching for the source of this dream we had while I would be seeking for a means by which we could force everyone to lay down their swords and simply let the flowers grow.

As I sat on the dais in the middle of the garden, a purple cat approached me. He sat down, swished his tail at me, and then spoke.

"Hello," the cat said, in a voice deeper than I'd imagine a cat to have.

"Hello," I said in reply. It was a bit odd, hearing a cat speak, but I reminded myself that Heaven was hardly as normal as I'd expect. "Are you lost?"

"In a sense," the cat said, scratching behind his ear. "My name is Alfador. I am an observer, and I've come to help you cheat at this game."

"What game? And why should I like to cheat?"

"The name of the game is reality," he purred. "And you'd like to cheat to ensure the best possible outcome for all."

"And what can you do to help me with so big a task, Alfador?"

"I can tell you what is wrong with Heaven, expand your view of the situation, and guide you on the path."

"You have my interest."

"Heaven is false. That is, it's a dream of sorts."

"A dream?"

"You're actually unconscious right now. Your real body is in another world, kept safe while the real world repairs itself. In the mean time, your soul is here."

"What happened to the real world?"

"Someone broke it in an attempt to get her way. She wants to have her family back, and she is the one who moved you all to the other world. She has kept you here, sleeping, so she could build Heaven and Hell into a neat enough order for her to prepare her family to emerge from this place. Unfortunately, there have been complications, and she hasn't had success. That's why I'm cheating. The game has stalled, and I want to move it onward."

"You'll forgive me if I have a hard time believing this," I said.

"Absolutely," Alfador answered. "The truth is a hard thing to swallow. But swallow you must. No one other than you and Golbez is able to help me move the game along."

"What am I to do about any of this?"

"For now? Only the following: There is a monster coming into this world. This monster hails from another world entirely. A world unrelated to your own. But someone is crying in this world, and someone is crying in another world, and you need to be there to hear them cry. When you have done that, I will instruct you further."

"Alright, Mr. Alfador," I responded, smiling, "I'll play the game, providing one condition."

"And that would be?"

"I want you to let Golbez in on the game, too."

Alfador smiled at me, and with what appeared to be a feline bow, replied, "As you wish. I must say, I think we have all underestimated you, flower girl. I'd have thought you'd have chosen one of the men in your life. Why choose Golbez over the man you love?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked winking at him. "Everyone underestimates him, too."