They made an odd couple, sitting on the makeshift log bench. Lightning looked worn and abject and Vanille looked giddy and excitable. The fire in front of them popped and crackled. They didn't seem to notice it, or each other.
Fang and Snow had gone off to hunt for food, while Hope and Sazh volunteered to forage. By this time, both Lightning and Vanille had worn themselves out doing their respective jobs, so the group tacitly decided that those two would take a break tonight.
"The sky is so clear tonight, isn't it?" Vanille asked, turning her head to look up at the stars.
They were brilliant, all right. Lightning only groaned in response, not even trying to feign concern.
Vanille ignored her. "I noticed, in Cocoon, a fal'Cie acts as your sun," she went on. "So you've got no real sky, no real stars. But this is real." She smiled and hugged her knees. Her heels clicked the hard earth. "You're lucky, don't you know?"
"Mm." Lightning, in fact, did not feel so lucky.
"Everyone else seems to think Gran Pulse is hell."
"It's sustainable." She knew that wasn't what Vanille meant.
"But everything in Cocoon is so clean—" Vanille paused suddenly, searching for the right word— "so...so..."
"It's sterile, isn't it?" Lightning asked.
She turned to her. "Yeah." Vanille was frowning now. "That's too fitting a word."
Lightning spoke again, emboldened by Vanille's puzzlement. "It's tame. Clean. Everything Pulse isn't."
"But that's like saying Gran Pulse is wild and dirty... Oh." Vanille had never thought of her home that way, but she decided it must be true after seeing Cocoon in all its...sterility. "But it's not like Cocoon is a bad place."
"It's safe," Lightning agreed. Or maybe she wasn't agreeing.
Vanille almost expected a "too safe," but she didn't receive it.
"There's something wrong with it, though," Lightning continued. "There's no one on Gran Pulse."
"True," Vanille said, and her voice was just a bit darker than usual.
"They must have done something to make it that way."
"The War of Transgression, I'm guessing?"
"Pulse wasn't as advanced as Cocoon, was it?" Lightning asked suddenly. "They must have torn it to pieces after Ragnarok took that chunk out."
"That's right." Vanille smiled corrosively, and Lightning felt disgusted. "They'd been doing that even before we made it to Cocoon and summoned Ragnarok, so I can only guess what they must have done afterward."
"That would explain the ruins."
"Oh yes. It was...cruel." Vanille spoke with uncertainty, as if she couldn't decide whether to sound concerned or not. "They were always ripping materials out of the earth to feed Cocoon. But now we know what they're really trying to do up there."
"Summon the Maker," she replied. "And farm humans who have the capacity to do it until it actually happens."
"We managed not to, somehow. I don't know if we're going to be able to do it again," she said flatly. "But I hope so. As a consequence, summoning the Maker is a little too abstract for me."
"We'll do it, or die trying."
Vanille groaned hopelessly. She got the feeling that was all Lightning had to say on the matter. The ex-soldier wasn't one to mince words.
Then she slapped her thighs. "Well, all right then!"
Lightning looked at her. "'All right,' what?"
"I guess I have no real choice but to try," Vanille replied in defeat. "I can whine about how I don't want to do it all I want, but it won't change anything."
Lightning frowned in disapproval. To her, Vanille was already a paradigm of optimism; she didn't need the reassurance. "How many times do we need to say that to ourselves?"
Vanille smiled again, all affectation and no substance. "As many times as it takes. That's what Fang taught me all those years back: 'fake it till you make it.'"
"You're not a good actress," Lightning commented earnestly, and Vanille's frown deepened.
Funny, she didn't seem to be frowning before.
Vanille pouted. "Well, at least I'm trying! Everyone else is all gloom and doom."
"But you saw what happened. You know what Ragnarok is actually like."
Vanille bit her lip and made an unpleasant face. Was Lightning trying to break her down?
"And that's supposed to give me a reason to give up?"
"No...but it must've been hard on you."
Lightning wouldn't have been surprised, she meant. Well...
"Well, I have to at least try. If I just sit here...and do nothing...then neither will anything come of it. Inaction is the worst."
"True." Lightning paused. "Who stopped Ragnarok?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Was it Cocoon, or was it one of you? Who stopped Ragnarok from destroying Cocoon?"
"It's all a blur," Vanille lied. "I can't remember. After that we were immediately crystallized." She stopped. "Though," she said, "if it was Cocoon that destroyed Ragnarok, I doubt they would've let it survive." That wasn't a lie.
"Then one of you must have stopped it."
"Fang," Vanille said, and looked at Lightning. "She stopped herself before she took out any more of Cocoon. After that her brand froze."
"Why?"
Vanille shrugged.
Lightning sighed. "You're an annoying one to talk to." She recalled Serah, and even then she decided that compromising the truth wasn't any better than telling it outright. It was better that Serah tell her and face the consequences than lie about something like becoming a l'Cie.
"Do you believe me?"
"You sound like you were telling the truth."
"I guess I'm getting better at it, then."
"At what?" Lightning wanted to ask, but she kept her mouth shut.
"I truly, honestly hope things change," said Vanille.
"We all do."
"No," she said, "not like me. You wouldn't understand."
Well, of course Lightning wouldn't. She hadn't been there.
"I'm so sick of this, Light. I just wish none of this had happened."
"It's too late for that."
"I know," Vanille sighed. "I can't do anything about it."
"You can," said Lightning. "You can help us."
"Help you do what?" Vanille inquired. It was a fitting verb, because Vanille honestly had no idea what any of them were going to do.
"I don't know," Lightning said quietly.
"That's not much of a plan you have there."
Lightning stayed quiet. The fire crackled.
"We've fought fal'Cie. That's a start. That way we know we can do some damage," said Lightning.
Vanille nodded. "L'Cie are tougher than a typical human being."
"And...maybe if we defeat Barthandelus..."
"Your brand... It won't go away until you've fulfilled your Focus. And even then," intercepted Vanille, "you're crystallized, and only ever awaken to a new one."
Lightning grimaced.
"The only way to truly break the cycle is to wipe out the fal'Cie, so only humans will be left. But they're the ones who gave us the power to defeat them. At least they can't take that away from us, once we have it."
"There are about six million fal'Cie just on Cocoon," said Lightning. "Good luck with that."
"Well, that's the only real way to stop this whole thing. That, or defeat Barthandelus, and pray that the fal'Cie will wise up and leave us all alone."
"Wasn't that the whole point of Cocoon, though? To summon the Maker?"
"Maybe so. But if you lose Cocoon," Vanille beamed, "you'll always have Gran Pulse!"
"Wild, dirty Gran Pulse," Lightning deadpanned. She groaned.
"Right," said Vanille, smiling, "filthy old Gran Pulse. Where else do you think you people in the sky got your food and clothing? All of it was taken from us."
"And obviously we never gave it back," said Lightning. "I'm surprised Fang managed to stop herself."
"Oh, it took no time to turn her into Ragnarok. But she knew I didn't want to hurt anyone. I think... Well, I hope that's what made her stop."
"Hmph. To think you're the savior of Cocoon."
"Why? Do you think it's funny?"
"It just..." Lightning sighed. It was more surreal than funny. Vanille must have been a little over five hundred years old, though she looked and acted sixteen. "It's just strange. You think you can do it again?"
"I don't know. I hope so."
"It's going to take more than just hope."
"Well, if people like me and Fang can do it at least once... There's hoping we can do it again!"
"What did I just say?" Lightning snapped in irritation.
"I heard you. I just don't have anything else to say."
"You have experience in saving the world," she grunted. "You should have a lot to say."
"I'm sorry I don't."
"Whatever."