Homecoming
Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin
And if you have a minute why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?
Somewhere Only We Know- Keane
And they lived happily ever after.
At least, that was the idea. Meteor had been destroyed, Sephiroth defeated, Hojo killed, Shinra toppled along with the legendary Mako city of Midgar. The villains had lost, the heroes emerged victorious and the world was safe once more. Only one question remained:
"What now?"
Vincent looked up from his reverie to see what Cid was talking about. Everyone else was looking at him as well. Cid repeated himself.
"I said, 'what now'?"
Everyone's expressions suddenly became very blank. Clearly this was not a challenge anyone had really expected to deal with. Vincent himself had to admit that he had not anticipated surviving the adventure. He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not.
"Oh…well…I guess we can all go home now." Cloud faltered. The team thought about that.
"Good! 'Bout & time we finished this thing!" Barret thumped his chest for emphasis. "I'm goin' home to see Marlene. Poor lil' thing probl'y forgets what her daddy looks like after all this time…" he trailed off sadly.
"No one could forget THAT face." Tifa chided gently. Barret gave a hearty "harrumph" but smiled behind his beard.
"Let's go back to Nibelheim." Tifa suggested, taking Cloud's hand. He met her eyes and smiled.
"Sounds good to me."
"I imagine Grandfather will want to hear all about our adventures…" Nanaki reasoned aloud. "I should return to Cosmo Canyon and tell him all about it."
"Well, I've got a city to rebuild." Cait Sith added. "If you wanna drop me off near Midgar I can go from there."
Yuffie sighed heavily. "I guess I should go home too… Back to being a princess for me." She sounded less than enthused at the prospect. "I wish I could have brought back SOME Materia…"
Cloud rolled his eyes and shook his head at her as the rest of the team laughed. Yuffie blushed and gave a sheepish grin.
"Hey," she chuckled, "What girl doesn't like shiny stones?"
This brought more laughter from everyone except Vincent who was busy emptying his pockets.
"Here," he said, handing her a small pouch, "a farewell gift. I wish you success upon your return home."
Puzzled, Yuffie took the pouch and yanked the drawstrings taught. Her eyes grew wide as she beheld what was inside.
"Materia!" she gasped reaching in and pulling out a handful of the multicolored stones. "Vince where did you…is this all yours?"
"I did keep one for myself," Vincent smiled, holding up a single red Summon Materia. "For a souvenir."
Yuffie goggled at the pouch in disbelief. "Vincent I can't accept all this…"
"Is that because you didn't steal it?" Cloud taunted. Yuffie stuck her tongue out at him. Vincent smiled.
"Please keep it." he told her, pushing the little pouch back into her hands. "I won't need it."
"Thank you!" she cried, throwing her arms around him in an embrace that nearly knocked him off his feat. Blushing a little, he hugged her in return and patted her head.
"Just remember to use it wisely."
"I will!" Yuffie promised. Vincent smiled to himself. She'd make a fine ruler one day with a bit more growing up.
"What about you, Cid?" Cloud asked.
"Well…" Cid paused to scratch at his scruffy blonde buzz. "Guess maybe I'll go on home to Rocket Town. Shera's probably wondering if I've up and left for good."
Vincent hid a chuckle at Cid's failed attempt to seem nonchalant on the subject of Shera.
"Thinking of settling down?" he smiled. Cid blushed scarlet and made a show of brushing his spilled cigarette ash off his jacket.
"Settle down? Me! Why the hell would I do that! I'm just gonna check in to make sure that crazy dame hasn't leveled my house! Then I think maybe I'll take the Highwind here and start up a travel business- seein' how the Junon port's been smashed by Weapon and people gotta get from here to there ya know."
There were nods and murmurs of agreement. It was an excellent plan.
"What about you Vince?" Cid asked, relighting his cigarette.
Vincent knew exactly where he was heading just as soon as he could get away. He would go to the waterfall. To Lucrecia.
"Home, I think." He answered after a moment to reflect on how to word his reply. It was best to give a general answer. Even after all that had happened, he wasn't going to tell them everything if he could help it. "I have someone waiting for me.
"Really?" Yuffie raised an eyebrow.
"Family, little Ninja." Vincent reached and flipped her brown bob. "Don't worry, the world has not yet turned upside-down."
Yuffie snerked and smoothed her hair back into order.
"Well, let's get goin'!" Cid cracked his knuckles and turned towards the controls. "We're all goin' home!"
It's all over now. The nightmare has ended. We'll be together. No Hojo, no Jenova, no Shinra…just us. Finally together. Vincent's thoughts sang along with his heart, his whole mood seeming to bounce with a lightness that mimicked the prancing steps of his black Chocobo. Grassland and cliff face flew beneath the dark bird's feet as they raced towards the canyoned falls. He had meant to stop and rest himself and his mount, but the bird was had showed no signs of weariness and despite a thirty-one year wait, one more day seemed unbearable to Vincent. After what could have either been a moment or eternity- Vincent wasn't certain- the incline of the precipitous cliff face fell abruptly away and the black Chocobo bounded effortlessly down to the grassy slope below. Vincent did some bounding of his own as he vaulted out of the saddle, barely waiting for the bird to stop. He could not run fast enough.
"Lucrecia!" he shouted upon ducking behind the falls. "Lucrecia I'm back!"
His smile faltered as his shouts echoed back at him.
"Lucrecia?"
The gentle bluish glow of the cavern fungus cast a soft ambience over the pearlescent walls; the luminescence marred somewhat by the scrawls and scribbles of Lucrecia's calculations. But of the little scientist herself, no trace was evident. There was nowhere to hide inside the pearly hollow. Where was she? The natural throne and dais stood at the opposite end of the cavern, glowing with a soft luminescence of their own. A cold knot formed in Vincent's stomach as he crossed the floor to the limestone chair. On the seat lay a small heap of tattered white rags.
No…
No, this could not be. She was here. She had to be. Against his will Vincent found himself lifting the yellowed fabric to hold it before his eyes. A lady's nightdress and dressing gown, the fabric mildewed and rotted, began to break apart under his touch. Inhaling sharply in horror Vincent let the decayed fabric fall to the floor. Turning, he raced back outside.
"LUCRECIA!" he bellowed over the sound of the falls, desperately scanning the limited landscape for any sign of her. "LUCRECIAAAAAA!"
She did not answer. She was not outside. There were even fewer places to hide outside the cavern than inside. Vincent spun and darted back beneath the falls, his disbelieving panic telling him perhaps he had simply passed her on the way in. That had to be it. Crossing the floor to the throne once more he searched with his eyes, wondering if the dim light was playing tricks on his him. There was no space to hide beneath or behind the natural seat- it had flowed down from the cavern ceiling into its present shape as a permanent part of the wall and floor.
He stood and stared blankly at the white chair as if waiting for it to give him an answer. In doing so he noticed something that hadn't caught his attention before- small veins glowing a pale violet networked across the back and seat of the throne, the ambience muted by the blue aura of the cave fungus. Kneeling, Vincent bent to examine the threads of color more closely. A cold shiver settled in his core as he realized the silhouette of the glowing shape was that of a seated human. Head and shoulders shaded in by a network of violet threads like crazing on a china plate shadowed the back of the chair and flowed downward to where two little footprints rested on the dais. The cracks grew thicker as they drew towards the shadow's chest, collecting in a little hollow where its heart should have been. Where her heart should have been. Vincent could see it in his mind's eye- Holy washing over the surface of the planet it's glassy waves cascading across the land like salt water on sand. It would have swept over everything, filled every crack and crevice of the planet's surface. It would have flooded the cavern. He could see her opening her eyes to look. The brown stained violet watching calmly as the white waves rushed into her sanctuary. She had remained where she sat, embracing her fate, arms wide to accept the finality of death. A real death this time. Holy would have consumed the alien will that kept her stranded among the living, allowing the planet to absorb all that was mortal back unto itself.
"Lucrecia…" He choked, dropping to his knees before his beloved's empty throne. "Lucrecia…"
There was no one there to answer. She was gone, her mortal shell washed away by Holy, leaving only her rotting night clothes and the soft violet essence of her spirit to slowly seep back into the Planet. Vincent's insides clenched against pain he had not felt since his family's premature death. Collapsing against the seat he did not try to hold back the sobs that clenched his throat. He had lost her. Again. Nothing could change that now. Face hidden in his arms Vincent wept, bleeding his heart through his tears. The only one to mourn her passing.
Perhaps, he reflected some hours later, it was better this way. It would not have been fair to Lucrecia. It would not have been much of a life for her to have remained as she was. He had gotten to see her, to speak with her, to hold her one last time. He should be content. With a brief surge of burning shame Vincent noted that he was now relieved of the guilty burden of admitting to Lucrecia that he had not been able to save her son. It did little to dampen the pain.
Lost in thought, he let the chocobo wander at its own pace towards the looming green strip on the distant horizon across the high grasslands. Gongaga. He had fled in wild joy to Lucrecia's cave only to be heartbroken a third time. He hoped, but dared not believe, that it would be the last time. He recalled with chilling clarity the devastation that had turned the ancient forest into a smoldering wasteland. The band of emerald green slowly growing larger as he drew closer was cautious reassurance that at least the trees had recovered from the holocaust. Vincent squinted at the line of ever approaching greenery. There should have been a hump in the middle of the forest, a miniature hill where the oldest and tallest trees stood. Instead, the foliage seemed to dip down in the center in a curve that was concave instead of convex. What could produce such an effect? Unless of course there were no trees in the center of the forest… Vincent shivered as his blood chilled and he sternly shoved the thought aside. No. No there MUST be trees at the center of the forest. It was not possible for it to be otherwise. Or was it? Unconsciously Vincent fingered the red Summon Materia in his trouser pocket. The little stone contained the strength of Titan. Vincent prayed that it was not all that remained of the mighty guardian's powers.
Entering the shade of the Gongaga canopy brought tears to Vincent's eyes, whether out of gladness or anguish he wasn't sure. The trees were depressingly small and the undergrowth thin compared to towering hardwood giants and dense thickets of ferns and bracken he had known before the explosion. However he was painfully glad to see the youthful splendor of the infant trees- for they were infants, a mere thirty years old. Vincent could have easily reached both arms all the way around the thickest trunk and been able to clasp his hands with room to spare. With a sigh he recalled the dizzyingly tall leafy towers that had once spread across the valley. Jealous, the proud trees had striven to become taller than the huge mesa that loomed over the eastern edge of the forest, or so a childhood legend said. The dusty track that wound towards the village was somewhat wider than he remembered. Vincent sighed. He could remember a time when there was no dust on the roads, only a soft carpet of moss and short grass. But then, he supposed, so could the rest of the "old folks" who had survived the reactor explosion. Vincent shivered, wondering yet again why he had been spared. He had been a thousand miles away across the ocean safe in Midgar when it had happened, but he had experienced the devastation of the aftermath first-hand. The last time he had seen the tree city it had been a smoldering pile of charcoal glowing in its own heat. The cool dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves in soft green rays eased his heart, reminding him that the fire haunted only his past. The forest was growing once again.
The same could not be said for the village. Though with a lack of suitable trees, that was understandable. Only a few humble dwellings stood clustered within the wood, thin wisps of gray smoke curling up from the clay pipe chimneys. The little town may not have been growing, but that did not mean it was dead. Villagers were busy- not sifting through wreckage and laying corpses in a row- but doing ordinary things such as weeding gardens, mending thatched roofs, minding children and bustling about on a hundred other individual concerns just as Vincent remembered. Dismounting, he took his chocobo by the reins and led it through the little ellipse that had become the town square, attracting more than one uncertain stare. He did not pause to answer questions only proceeded past the modest houses- the plaster still wet on some of them- and down another wooded track. The trees grew sparser here though the sky was not yet visible through the thin canopy. A wilted wrought-iron fence hemmed in Vincent's destination. The wide oval held only a few wild trees but several young flowering shrubs and bushes as well as little whips of ornamental trees grew in elegant confusion. The cemetery was one of very few places where landscaping of any sort was practiced. Even still, there was no real rhyme or reason to the profusion of flowers and decorative trees that dotted the carefully weeded grass and wildflowered moss. If not for the headstones neatly lain out in family clusters, it would have been easy to forget this was not simply a flower garden. Tethering the chocobo to the melted gate, Vincent entered. Carefully stepping around stone markers and blossoming shrubs he made his way towards the garden of his own family. Their headstones, it seemed, had not been forgotten. Each name still stood out clearly, the names and dates scrubbed clean of offending lichen. His father, his mother, his brother, and most disturbingly himself lay in a quiet row among the stones of their parents and their parents and the other great-greats of the Valentine family. Vincent could not help staring at the grave that bore his name and yet was not his. It was unsettling to say the least. Vincent Valentine: Born October 13, 303, Died January 2, 330. The nameless man who rested here was not Vincent Valentine, but at least he had received a decent burial. Vincent smiled despite himself. Gongagans usually preferred bushes or trees planted throughout family corners to memorialize passed relatives and not directly upon the graves, and yet a modest cluster of dwarf sunflowers lifted their bright faces to the sky from the base of Vincent's headstone.
Lucrecia…
She must have come to help lay to rest what she had thought was him. The first bouquet he had given her had been a bunch of miniature sunflowers tied with a ribbon. Sighing quietly, he smiled. He would always miss her, his family, his friends, all of them. Distantly he wished that Lucrecia could have at least rested here with his family or in Junon with her own. It didn't seem right that she should be forgotten this way. The little golden-brown flowers bobbed happily at him in the summer breeze and Vincent smiled a little to himself.
A glint of gold caught his eye. Blinking, he turned his gaze but saw nothing. The breeze ruffled the dogwood leaves overhead and the metal twinkled again. There was something hidden in the grass where the sunflowers grew. Reaching out his flesh hand, Vincent grubbed for the object, feeling for metal with his fingers. It was a chain, an impossibly thin chain half buried where the sunflowers had been planted. Carefully, Vincent pulled on the tiny string of metal and dangled it before his eyes. His breath caught at what he saw. A tiny lump of a heart strung on a hair-thin chain glittered beneath a thick crust of dirt. His mother's necklace…Lucrecia's necklace…the one he had given her. How had it come to be here? Examining the little fragment of jewelry he found that one of the miniscule links had been broken, leaving the ends hanging uselessly. It must have slipped from around her neck as she knelt to plant the sunflowers.
Closing his fist around the scrap of jewelry Vincent clenched eyes and jaw against the flood of emotions threatening to drown him. The find was bittersweet. Contemplating the little necklace, eyes damp, Vincent was grateful that he had been granted something to remember Lucrecia by after all, and yet the pain that came with that thankfulness pierced him to the point of tears. The little necklace was like their love: precious, pure, untarnished, but broken and lost. Collecting pendant and chain in the palm of his hand, he pocketed it carefully, determined to not to lose it again. Shifting onto one knee Vincent touched his fingers to his forehead, his lips, his heart, and finally to the earth where his family lay asleep.
Your memory in my thoughts, upon my lips, within my heart. Though your body lies here I shall always love you. Rest well mom, dad, Geof, Lucrecia, and my nameless friend whoever you are…I know the planet will keep you; the gods care for you. I'll be back soon so don't worry…
Rising stiffly, Vincent wandered back towards the drooping gate. There was one more shrine yet to visit.
The villagers were staring at him. Vincent didn't much care. He was more or less accustomed to receiving odd looks from people by this time. Almost everyone was stealing curious a glance at him and then hurriedly turning back to their work. Vincent didn't pay any attention until one of them called out to him.
"Don't go down that way!"
Vincent turned to look. A frail and wrinkled old man sat in a sunny spot on a log bench, his rheumy eyes turned towards Vincent.
"You won't want to go down that way, Sir." The old man said again, his voice dry yet strong.
"Why not?" Vincent asked, "Isn't that the way to Titan's Throne?"
The old man nodded solemnly.
"Mmm…it was." He rasped. Vincent blinked.
"But how could that be?"
The old man regarded Vincent sagely, searching his features.
"Do I know you, Sir?" the old man asked. Vincent eyed the old man briefly and after concluding that this was not someone he remembered offered the open answer of:
"Probably not."
The old man chuckled to himself. "No…I suppose not. I only imagined it, most likely. Though you do look familiar…"
Vincent swallowed uneasily, not sure if he wanted to be identified or not. The old man shook his head.
"Well, never mind. But getting back to your original question- no that isn't the way to Titan's throne anymore. It hasn't been since they came and built that cursed contraption…"
Vincent's eyes grew wide.
Oh gods no…"The Mako reactor…the one that exploded…" he whispered, stunned almost to silence.
The old man nodded, pain upon his wrinkled face.
"This whole village was leveled…over half the people here died in the explosion and many more have died of Mako poisoning since then. There's nothing left of Old Titan's shrine than a lot of twisted metal."
Vincent could only stare.
"I'm sorry, Son." The old man offered a grieved look. "I truly am. I'm afraid you've journeyed here for nothing."
"No…" Vincent muttered more to himself than to the old man.
"No." he said again more firmly. "I will see for myself."
"Wait! There are dangerous creatures in the wreckage!" the old man called. But Vincent had already disappeared, heeling his chocobo down the dusty path towards Gongaga's most sacred spot.
Now Gongaga's most desecrated spot. Vincent reigned his chocobo short when the trees abruptly came to a halt and the wreckage rose into view. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. And yet it was. Numbly, he sat and stared at the mutilated ghost of yet another sacred memory, its bones burned and its ashes scattered to the winds. Like a cemetery fence a low half-constructed stone wall ringed the crater, separating it from the wood. What had once been the oldest part of the forest where massive trees grew close together like columns in a temple only jagged shards of blackened metal now pointed accusingly at the sun. A sun that would never again see life grow upon once hallowed ground now stained and tainted as if the blood of every villager in the blast had been slain upon the spot. The stench of smoke and soured Mako still hung rancid in the air. Strange blasphemies of creatures crawled about the ruins, slithering and scuttling like insects over a corpse. Instead of thick spongy moss a carpet of shattered glass and metal fragments lay strewn across the raw red earth. Of Titan's Throne there remained nothing, only the hollow shell of the reactor, the blasted spaces staring out like the empty orbits of a broken skull. His stomach turned, his vision swam, and Vincent felt himself falling. Desperately he clung to the saddle, his claw leaving deep marks in the dark leather. Cold sweat clung to his face as he fought for control of himself. He wanted to vomit, wanted to howl, wanted to hunt down and brutally dispose of whoever was guilty of this profanity. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered that the last brief impulse had already been carried out. Shinra was gone. He and the others had already taken revenge for the savaged earth. The knowledge didn't make him feel any better or worse, only cold and sick inside as he beheld the remains of Titan's sacred wood. Everything had been taken from him: his home, his family, his love, his life, and finally his god. He had already done all he could in defense of what he so dearly loved. There was nothing else he could do.
Or was there? It took a moment to realize the red materia in his pocket had become warm, resonating with a familiar land rendered alien. Reaching into his pocket, Vincent drew out the materia and held it before his eyes, watching it mirror their deep red glow. For the first time in many years, Vincent heard the earth rumble silently in his ears.
The battle is over, last son of Valentine. It is here we must part though never separate. Return me to our people. They are in need of my help and I cannot bear to watch their race fade away into history.
Blinking back sudden tears, Vincent nodded at the unspoken command and dismounted.
What shall I do, Grandfather?
Choose.
Vincent scanned the area but there was nowhere suitable. Edging around the rim of the crater he peered into the tree line. Wandering closer he examined all of the trees but none of them spoke of anything more than simple photosynthesis. Near the edge of the tree line, a bare step away from the poisoned earth of the reactor crater it stood small and thin; a tiny whip of a tree with less than a handful of pale wrinkled leaves sprouting determinedly towards the distant rays of the sun. Here. This would do. Near the base of the rooted twig Vincent scratched a small hole with his claw. The materia in his other hand, he regarded it for a moment, wondering if he should simply drop it into the hole like some fantastic seed.
Crush it.
Vincent blinked. He did not ask, only transferred the softly glowing stone to his other hand and clenched his brazen fist. A sharp crack and soft ruby light spilled through his talons. Red gel seeped from the ruined sphere, coating the sharp fingers and cold palm. Vincent carefully tipped his wrist and poured the giant's blood and bone into the little hole, scraping the residue from his claw with a tuft of grass. Pressing earth back over the miniature grave, Vincent could almost feel the forest sigh and the earth grow warm as Titan's blood seeped back into its body. The Guardian of the forest had returned home.
Will you stay, last son of Valentine? The earth guardian rumbled. Vincent stood and considered this, the ruined reactor filling his view. There was no reason to leave, yet no reason to stay. This, like so much of his life, was now part of a past so distant that he was no longer part of it. There was no family, no friends, no home to return to. Like the reactor he was only a mutated shell of who he had once been. There was nothing more to do here. Lowering his head, Vincent gave the answer of his broken heart.
No, Grandfather, I cannot. I love this place with all my heart…but I am no longer a part of life here. Every day I would be reminded of what had been long ago. I would be forever attempting to live in a world that no longer exists and would only taint the land with the bitterness of my lot.
He felt Titan's sage nod.
I understand, last son of Valentine. Do not let your soul be troubled. Memory can be a bitter thing, but it is also precious. I know you will not be so foolish as to forget what you have witnessed. It is painful, but you will bear it as you have born all other trials these many years. You will not let it consume you. Go and find peace my last son. Find other happinesses. Do not forget, though you have planted my essence here I shall always, always be with you even until the very last.
Vincent smiled at the phantasm of strong arms around him. One thing, at least, was left to him. Titan chuckled, sending the birds twittering in a flurry of wings and whistles.
It takes much more than that to kill a Guardian, last son.
A sheepish blush was Vincent's only reply. Turning, he took one last look at the Guardian's little tree. Already it seemed thicker, taller, it's shriveled leaves now full and deep green. Already the forest breathed again. Smiling, Vincent turned walked away, the last phantom of the past taking leave of his dearest haunt. He rode away taking a side track that lead past the reactor and away from the town. He did not need to see it again; the memory of his home would always be with him. He would not return. But he did not mind.