Heaven's Gate
Freedom…
Daena was fighting for Love; Irwin was fighting for Chaos; Escad was fighting for Justice. All three were fighting for Matilda.
And Free Will… That was what Matilda was fighting for.
Aurora believed; the young Seed was willing to exorcise the gift by watching from a distance and hoping for the best. And Daena exercised the same right by dragging her into the thick of things. If Escad hadn't been there, Aurora might very well have stood there and let herself be killed.
Then again, if Escad hadn't been there, there would have little to provoke such an attack. And both friends would still be alive.
The what could have beens might have chased circles around her wearied mind if she had let them, but the past was the past. It was neither in her power, nor in her hands… and the present found her kneeling before the fresh grave, eyes closed and slender fingers entwined in a prayer for the dead.
The rustle of fabric touched her ears, and what she couldn't see she imagined: Escad, prowling about in the dead of night to uphold the obligation he might not have been comfortable with during the ceremonies.
"I didn't think anyone would still be here," Escad it was, though she would never be sure about the rest; it passed from her mind as she roused to watch the man take a pose similar to her own.
"Why? How long…?" Aurora paused, realizing how little it mattered. What was a little time to a world that had seen so many ages? Escad, oblivious to the musing, answered anyway.
"Several hours, at least," once said, the knight continued softly, "It's dark… but the stars are shining, and the moons are out."
It took Aurora a moment to realize the second wasn't meant for her. She let her gaze wander over catacombs, this particular section a tomb devoted to Daena's lineage. It was a strong family, and would not end here, but that meant little to Aurora – not one other was her friend as Daena had been.
"I'm going after him."
Aurora smirked, suppressing further mirth, however grim, in respect to the dead. From what she knew, Escad had yet to stop going after Irwin… he just paused every once in a while, "Yeah?"
"This must end."
Aurora stood, stretching cramped muscles as she did so. She sighed, mentally fatigued over the last few hours, not to mention the last few days.
"It must," she finally agreed. Holding out her hand, she waited, still as stone, until Escad finally looked up at her, "C'mon; let's go."
"You've been here all evening," The man's eyes narrowed, though he moved little else, "I just got here."
"There's nothing down here – no forgiveness and no peace…" and with that the girl smiled an enigmatic, though not unkind, smile, "At least, not for the living."
"And what makes you so special?"
"Everyone asks me that," the Seed twitched her fingers to renew the offer, ignoring her friend's derisive tone of address, "C'mon."
This time, he accepted without comment, pulling himself up on her stolid strength.
The woman departed from the chamber, leaving Escad to take one last glance around the solemn room… and to the newly formed hollow in the floor, overhung with a plaque denoting life where there was none.
Aurora was right. There was nothing here for the living. Understanding this, he hurried to catch up with her, and together they strolled in silence through the catacombs.
The evening was, indeed, dark. But the stars were shining bright over the Grottoes, and the moons hung, lazy and dim, but nonetheless contributing their fair share of light to the scene.
oOo
An hour later found the Seed still well awake by the waterfall, sharpening her sword in preparation for the unexpected.
Irwin, if he did aim to destroy the world, had to be stopped. She knew where he was, and maybe, just maybe, the brooch pinned to her belt would get him to open up, somehow get him to listen to reason….
It was a far cry…. Matilda never said that how to stop the demon involved violence, and although Aurora never doubted it would be the last resort, she had to try, at least.
For Daena… for Matilda… even for Escad.
Keeping her plan from the holy knight worried her, and she was beginning to wonder if she should have sided with Daena when she had the chance.
… No, the past was the past, and there was no changing it.
She paused in her work, testing the blade's edge with her thumb… bleeding black into the night.
"You gonna stand there all night, or you going to say something clever?" she asked, letting Escad in on the fact that she knew him to be there. Why he hadn't announced himself, well… even she succumbed to that urge every once in a while, she didn't blame him for being secretive, "So… what? Need a shine?"
"Like I've said, you're interesting," he answered, choosing to remain in his shadow.
Aurora smiled, seeing to the binding and polishing of her shield. It was an old piece, with the Mana Tree engraved in Lorant Silver on its face, along with a long forgotten crest demanding Sal Det Cour…. It could have been commissioned by a proud family… passed down and lost, passed along the ages long before it found its way to her father… She rarely ever used it in battle, but it was comforting to have. After she had thoroughly cleaned it, she looked about for a place to set it where it wouldn't immediately attract dust. In the end, she wound up strapping it across her back, and mentally cursing for not having brought the cloth to wrap it in. The sword she left on the rocks – the blade comfortably protected from the dust and water by its scabbard – while she confronted the issues.
"Leave in the morning?"
Silence swallowed the words; Aurora wasn't sure if she had even spoken or not, until Escad replied,
"I'm leaving in the morning, yes."
While the meaning was clear, the Seed was not about to let it go like that, "You're leaving for where? I thought we had to go after Irwin."
"I'm going alone," Escad confirmed, the fact in his voice ruffling her windpipes in place of the feathers she would never grow.
"Huh," Aurora crossed her arms, painfully aware of how she had been written off the quest without notice. Though, to be honest, she had been expecting it… "Whatever happened to going together?"
The knight said… something, or at least tried to. Aurora thought she heard his voice, fainter than a whisper and deeply scarred by strain. She stepped closer… so close, and quirked one dainty eyebrow, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you."
"I said I can't," the man snapped, meeting her eyes as though that, alone, gave him the strength to speak his mind, "I can't bring you with me; I can't risk Irwin…"
He faltered. Not used to being taken seriously by those whom mattered, nor having to be, he didn't know what he was trying to do. Rather, he knew he was trying to keep her safe, but he didn't know how to convince her….
In a fit of desperation, he reached out, hoping for strength. Aurora stayed, barely blinking when his hand came to rest on her cheek… so softly, so gently. It almost hurt.
"He turned them against me; I can't let him have that chance with you."
"I don't think you need to worry about that," the Seed assured him, gently touching her fingers to his, "Besides… you know if you leave me behind, I'll have to find him myself, and I will find him first."
"What makes you so confident you can?"
Aurora smiled her wry, discerning smirk, "I know where he is."
The incredulous knight gawked for a moment, "How?"
"Lucemia died trying to swallow a volcano," the girl explained. Though unnecessary, it did serve to stir up brain cells, "So if Irwin wants the wyrm, he has to find the volcano…."
Escad caught on, suspicious, "Which volcano?"
"…And, who knows…? I might even beat him to it…."
"Aurora, please, where is he?"
"Promise not to leave without me?"
He could have left it be, but he dared not chance leaving her to face Irwin alone, "We'll go together."
"You know the mountain that shadows the desert?" Aurora grinned, obviously enjoying the suspense. She waited long, until the man answered,
"Yeah…?"
before stating the obvious, "A long, long time ago… that mountain was a volcano. At least, before it collapsed in on itself."
By now, Escad had, indeed, caught on, and was astounded to say the least.
"Forget interesting, you are simply incredible," he praised, grinning broadly.
"I try not to brag," the Seed quipped, though remained slightly unnerved at her own false modesty. Hey, at least I know I'm a faker.
oOo
The faerie peered from its hiding place, leaping into the air once it decided it wouldn't be seen. It landed, hopped, and landed again, creeping towards the sleeping humans. Easily mounting the metallic shell covering the first one, and, more importantly, not being detected in doing so, the fae crouched and tried to find what it knew was there.
There! On the strap of leather encircling the female's waist, a delicate and intricate broach sat just waiting to be claimed.
Following the contour of the shield, the sound of its claws clicking along the surface drowned out by the falling water nearby, the diaphanous creature reached for the jewel, slowly… carefully. The pin clicked, the fastening coming loose, and the faerie claimed its prize with a flutter of gossamer wings.
"Hn…" Escad twitched, blinking awake at the unexpected breeze… and the subtle taint of magic it carried. He stared at the faerie perched on Aurora's side; it, in turn, eyed him with a scowl. "What are you up to, little demon?"
"None of your business, badthing," the fae spat. They continued the stare-down as far as, at long last, Escad got sick of it.
"Then get away from of her," the knight demanded, accompanying the words with an attempted slap at the offending creature. It leapt nimbly into the air, pausing only to take a counter swipe at the man's hand.
Not accustomed to actually having to fight, it missed, poorly, and its claws sunk, though the flimsy fabric of Aurora's sleeve and into her arm. The woman startled out of the dream world, gasping in surprise at the fae stuck on her arm. The faerie fought to free itself, rending a tear in Aurora's shirt in the process before gaining enough momentum to flutter back and land in the dirt with an ignoble thud and a burst of dust.
Meanwhile, the Seed rolled up her sleeve and stared in awe at the four, perfectly round punctures that were starting to well up with her blood.
That was, approximately ten seconds before the fae venom took effect and she dropped out cold.
Not thrilled by this, Escad glared at the faerie, which was still sitting upon the plod of earth in which it had landed, wings drooping slightly. It perked up and leapt into the air, intent on escape.
The man extricated himself from under Aurora to give chase, sullenly remembering how he hadn't actually planned to spend the night outside, as well as the inopportune fact that he had left his sword at the temple. In light of recent events, the Grottoes were crawling with sentries and protected with all forms of wards – it was supposed to be safe, damnit.
A glint caught the knight's eye – the gems imbedded Aurora's sword scabbard. He considered this… but decided against it.
There was more than one way to squash a bug.
oOo
The spooked monks guarding the tunnel-like passage leading out of the Grottoes had informed the zealous holy knight of the ghastly occurrence of a familiar brooch floating away. Suffice to say, Escad thought little of chasing the beastie that bore it down and tearing off its wings.
Far down the pass, alas, beyond the bounds of the sanctified cliffs, he found the fae.
Caught off guard, Escad skidded to a stop as soon as the dark silhouette appeared. The knight suddenly realized that this was, perhaps, a worse idea than he had imagined. Irwin drifted forward easily, landing simply. No style, no show – the same as any other motion.
The rivals merely watched one another, the silence broken by the occasional flitter of the faerie's wings.
"So now what?" Escad asked at length, earning a feral grin in return,
"You tell me… you're the hunter."
"You caught me at a disadvantage," the knight shrugged, feigning disinterest, "I was expecting things to be slightly more even."
"Well then, you know how it feels…" the fae stuck out her tongue from atop her Lord's shoulder once he silenced her.
"Really, Escad," Irwin chuckled, "don't you want to know what I'm planning?"
"I have a pretty fair idea, actually… Revive Lucemia, destroy the world; pretty generic as demons are concerned."
"So you know," the Lord mused, "But don't you want to see it for yourself?"
"You're giving me a choice?"
"If you have to ask; I won't bother," Irwin growled, and, in a flash of magic, the fae was left alone in the dimly lit canyon.
oOo
Aurora woke up groggy and mystified. She had forgotten where she was, and why she was there.
It took several minutes until, admiring the scenery, hand resting on her side, that she realized something was missing.
The woman twisted to stare at the hole where Matilda's brooch had been. The evening trickled back into memory, and the Seed swore aloud.
oOo
Lucemia… the great wyrm. Aurora never thought it would be so… titanic. Although, on the same, she never thought she would be clambering around its insides, either.
The woman sliced a hole in the skin, climbing onto the massive beast's back. This experience alone served to remind of how much she loathed heights.
I have to be close… there's only so long this damn thing can be.
The end came… before the massive skull, they waited for her… Irwin, floating freely and Escad kneeling…
Aurora grimaced involuntarily… something was very wrong here. Irwin grinned – at her, she assumed – showing off his impressive dentistry. He was… gleeful? Her assumptions took second to the situation as the demon callously landed a blow, and Escad went tumbling, with all the weight of a rag doll, off the curve of the dead dragon's spine.
The Seed faltered, caught in a bout of disillusionment and denial in all their glory. She skirted Irwin, who gave her space, to peer over the edge. While the girl had to fight back the squeamishness over such a distance to the ground, she found that she had something closer to focus on.
From one wrist stuck between several impressive scales, Escad dangled with either little perception or little care.
It took all Aurora's courage to ignore the demon; the harsh wind, whipping past and tugging at her clothes and her hair; and the precarious sky's length to the ground. Cursing the clear day, she climbed down as best she could, coming close, but not quite enough.
"Escad," unsure if she had even heard herself, she tried a second time. The knight stirred, his eyelids snapped open and he stared at her… rather past her… through bleary eyes.
"Hey, come on," Aurora pleaded, "Help me out, here; give me your hand."
No response… merely that haunting, dead gaze.
The Seed tried, desperate to haul her friend from the precarious endangerment; it took everything, but she finally managed to drag him up to safety. Terrified over the ordeal, she barely supported herself. She fell to the ground, yet remained self-pressed to sustain Escad as well as she could. He was too frail… nurturing the same fear that had taken hold since she arrived.
"I didn't know…" the knight winced, startling the girl – even though it was the first hopeful sign she'd seen. Not good, by any means, but better than… well…
"What the hell happened?"
"I had to try… take him," Escad rasped. It hurt to breathe – talking was just plain agony, "I didn't know if you were coming."
"Damn you, of all people," Aurora swore, "You… you should have known better."
Her friend's chest hitched; she couldn't tell if he were laughing or sobbing, but his eyes were bright and clear, marked by a cryptic smile.
"Be a hero, Aurora… I know you can…."
That was it.
The Seed had known death throughout her life, but never like this…. Struck with rage – the overwhelming hate mingled, tempered with grief and pain – she laid him down and stood.
She had but one focus. Its name was Irwin.
"Touching," the demon applauded. Aurora laughed bitterly,
"You should have killed me," the woman turned, fearless in facing the beast.
"Are you so eager to meet your fate?" Irwin asked, "Don't mistake me – you will die, whether it was then or with the rest of the world is of no importance to me."
"Oh, but it will be," Aurora growled, "Haven't you realized? I am your death, monster. And I've come to claim you."
"Others have tried; what makes you so special?"
The Seed smirked, drawing her sword and letting the scabbard slip from her hand and clatter off the edge of the snake… off the edge of the world.
"I'm the last of the Gemma Knights, Guardians of the Goddess and Seeds of the Tree of Mana," the title made Irwin laugh; Aurora felt slighted, but, then, she was never very impressed with the rank, herself.
"Prepare yourself," the simple warning came out of courtesy. Aurora really didn't care whether Irwin was prepared or not when she leapt at him, seeking a clean kill. No such luck – she missed, her weapon slipping through the demon's thick fur and missing flesh. Irwin retaliated, pushing her back with a heavily clawed fist.
And so it went. Aurora fought with all her heart, racking up a fair number of cuts and bruises in the process; Irwin, neither escaping unscathed, harbored the battle with a languid grace – after all, he was destined to destroy the world, he had no worry over human heroes.
The break came when Aurora reeled under a force of magic. She landed face-first in a crackle of a dried, worn out layer of wyrm flesh. Taking the advantage, Irwin slammed down upon her back.
The pain was intense; thanks to her beloved shield, now severely dented, the damage had been spread across her body as opposed to focused on a single point… without the piece, she may very well have been broken in half. Even as she was, she felt as though she could no longer breathe.
Irwin, thinking that was enough, turned away. The Seed struggled to her feet, traipsing the distance between them slowly, her tread uneven and pained.
The strike was perfect.
Irwin's roar fell to a whimper as he wrenched the blade free of his skin, toppling Aurora in the process. The demon stared in disbelief.
"Im-impossible," he stuttered, "How could you have…? You killed me."
"You made it…" Aurora gasped, fighting for breath, "Easy."
Light streamed from the demon's wounds. It enveloped everything around him… and when Aurora could see again, Irwin was no more.
And neither was the magic holding Lucemia aloft. The wyrm plummeted to the earth; it began to fall apart as it fell – bones coming loose, tissues tearing and fading to dust. Soon, Aurora was left in free fall, every moment coming closer to death.
I'm sorry uncle…. She promised she would be careful… and all it was, all it turned out to be, was words.
Memory – images of times short and long past flitted through her mind. Who she was, who she wanted to be, what was left undone and unsaid… the Jumi would live or die thinking she left them to their fate; her pact with Drakonis would go unfulfilled; the twins would slowly realize she wouldn't be coming home; Escad….
Pain… and she wasn't falling anymore. Must have finally hit the ground, in the end she wondered why she was ever terrified of heights.
oOo
Aurora found, to her extreme discomfort, that she wasn't dead. Something was sticking into her back, irritating a still-bleeding lesion. She opened her eyes to sticks and stone.
She was in the Cancun bird's nest. The large bird was curled up over her eggs, blanketing the Seed in the process. Aurora didn't feel like moving… but the twigs and branches were really starting to bite. She climbed down from the nest, now barely aware of the deep drop off the narrow ledge promised.
A young nun was waiting for her, with the news that Matilda was gone.
That was the last. Aurora had failed.
oOo
A week later, the Seed limped into 'Amanda & Barrette's' on the way home through Domina. Ignoring curious glances from the patrons, she settled into a seat. In one hand she held Matilda's brooch, recovered from where Lucemia fell. With the other, she traced the design, absentminded to the world.
The End
Working Title: Heaven's Gate
Inspiration: Various little things.
Noteworthy: Heroine/Escad. Funstuff.
Disambiguation: Not to be confused with Wishes, Athena; Aurora is a bit more mature, and quite a bit younger.
Derivative work of material © Squaresoft, Square-Enix. Reformatted to abide by 'site standards. None of the original text has been modified, 'cept in case of typo.