Chapter 1

Your life is like the purest of snow, your feet slowly treading through the soft silk.

Once you look back, your life is stretched before you carefully.

Each step is a fine detail; showing as vibrantly as your past.

Be careful of where you tread in your life, as each step, will leave an imprint.

Arcs of snow stretched across the scenery, gracing the ground with a gentle touch. With proud glory, snowflakes danced to the floor, showering the area in a diamond dust. The wind blew softly, rolling into a whispered hymn that only one so pure can hear. A trail of delicate footprints grazed the surface of the white blanket of silk, winding a way to a lone figure that danced to an unheard song.

Thin white fabric twirled in the chilled air, arms following in perfect symphony. Hair of the darkest nights swayed with the movements, shining once in a while against the light of the moon. Jade eyes were shielded from any type of sight, lashes bitten with frost. Thin pale lips were closed tightly into a thin line, forming a silent hum.

There were no worries.

The young woman did not care of anything of that moment. The bitter cold was nothing but a chilled numb, the whisper of the wind nothing but a bell in her ears. She knew not of where she was stepping, her feet moving to the song that winded through her mind; slowly losing her sense of reality.

She had longed for this moment, for her dreams to become reality, and for her reality to become dreams. She wished that the cold could wash her away, carrying her soul into a peaceful heaven where nothing was to be feared. She knew though, with no surprise, that her wishes were ignored, as her body and soul were still one; firmly in the care of Earth and the living.

Slowly, her movements had become still. Her head tilted upwards in content, a smile painted onto her features. Eyes remained close, as her mind called up onto the heavens. Her arms rested at her sides, fingers curled loosely, waiting to grasp onto a hold of reality.

Snowflakes brushed against her bare skin, her hair spotted with white. At long last, her eyes had opened, revealing the story of a young woman. The content that glossed over her eyes was nearly just a façade of the truth that lay behind. Truly, she was in despair, a hand reaching out for desperate help.

Sighing, the young woman dropped her head, eyes scanning the scenery in front of her. It was like a painting, too surreal to be true. There were no imperfections, no flaws, nothing to taint the beauty of nature. There were no sounds, only the faint hush of wind and bristle of leaves. Reaching a hand out, she placed her hand open to the snow, catching the miracles in her palm.

The bliss of the moment was soon to be forgotten however.

Lonely and dark, a single feather drifted from the sky, swaying with the snow to land perfectly onto her hand. With a touch so light, the feather had landed onto the pile of snow that had accumulated onto her hand, becoming the centerpiece of a picture.

Gazing upwards to the skies, she gazed at the stars that littered the black veil of light, the moon shining at its greatest. Nothing else was to be seen; only the light glimmer of a certain star that wished to shine the brightest.

Looking back to the feather, she noticed that not a single flake had been blessed upon it, still untouched by winter's fingers. Slowly, the young woman dipped her hand downwards, watching as the snow piled gently to the ground below. The feather drifted ever so slowly in tow, only to be cupped into the hands of wind, the two joining to become a pair that danced away from her. Dancing to the song of mockery, the feather wisped through the air, becoming nothing but a small image in her eyes.

Glancing towards the snow covered ground; she had realized that her footprints had disappeared, and she knew that the moment they had, so had her grip on dreams. Her moment of harmony had ceased to exist, revolving back into a vision she ached to relive. Yet nothing in her will could help her, as she had to face her own reality.

With a final breath, she murmured what her heart desired most for.

"Sephiroth…"


A/N: Well here is my story for Sephiroth. Now, don't be soft, you can criticize me as much as you want.