A/N:
Uploaded the wrong story the first time. Oops. Sorry for any confusion.
I was wanting to update my chapter stories or work on one of my oneshot projects…this was born instead.
Enjoy and review!
Word Count: 936
Disclaimer: I own a laptop and a vivid imagination…but nothing else.
Voices
By Catsitta
There was a reason he spiraled into madness.
All the voices inside his head took shape when he met Mother. He at last understood them. It was insanity to anyone else, but to Sephiroth, he at last found what he sought. A sense of self and family. A sense of acceptance and purpose. The whispers that he ignored for so long were too loud to ignore and he no longer had reason to ignore them.
Not with Mother so close. She caressed him with her love and assured him that he was far from mad. That it was the humans around him who were crazed with their corruption. She told him to burn away their stain, to redeem himself and purge the world of their taint. Sephiroth listened. How he loved to listen to her speak.
Much unlike the other voices within him, she was kind. She was the only whisper that did not frighten him. She was the one that kept all of the others in control.
Unlike Pain, as he named it, Mother never harmed him. Mother never gave him nightmares. She never graced him with fears. Pain was the oldest, most familiar of the voices, and was the first to take shape…as well as the first to be silenced. Sephiroth knew that listening to its voice would distract him from his purpose, so he fell upon it with fire and steel. Mother had been proud of him then. But then again, she did not know that Pain still lingered, injured and weak, but watching through bloodshot eyes, a needle full of fear ready to sink deep when least suspected.
Sephiroth knew, however. So he kept himself strong.
It was sometimes hard, especially with the other voices trying to break down his defenses and be listened to as Mother was.
The most persistent of these many whispers were actually a pair. Mother tolerated them, but warned Sephiroth to be wary of their words. So he was, but the way they spoke struck a chord down deep, drenching up memories of the life he abandoned to heed Mother's call. They were like angels who sat upon his shoulders, always there and watching, never quite silent and impossible to break. He fought against them with his blade, but they teamed up, their voices combined, their messages different yet sung in harmony.
He named them Honor and Fate.
And they hurt him just as much as Pain.
Honor, when alone, was an imposing but quiet force. He was the warning that countered Mother's demands, begging Sephiroth to hesitate. Fate, on the other hand, was like a spark of fire that had burned away at the wick yet refused to be snuffed out. He was angry and cruel, a stark contrast to Mother, but he demanded nothing from Sephiroth but for him to listen to his words and consider what they meant. It was why Fate was named as he was, instead of Anger. He whispered in vivid detail what was to come and how Sephiroth played a role…and how he, the hero, would fall.
Mother assured him that Fate's prophecy was merely the foolish work of mortal men.
But there were other voices who spoke of Sephiroth's fall the same.
Such as Dreams and Innocence. They were different in many ways, yet similar in others. Dreams spoke of honorable things, of the pursuit of ones ambitions as well as the preservation of self. He was full of bountiful energy and determination, the kind associated with youth, but he was not the youngest of the voices, merely the hardest to quiet. He refused to stand down and no matter how many times Sephiroth brought him to his knees, he still stood up and still said he believed. In what, Dreams never said, but the way he spoke made it clear as day.
Dreams believed in Sephiroth. He believed Sephiroth could be a good man. Believed he could go back to being the friend that never faltered in his loyalties. Believed he could shake off Mother's influence and rise above the abyss that mankind called madness.
It was what made Dreams different than Innocence.
The youngest yet somehow the oldest of the voices, the shyest yet the loudest, was Innocence. He was always there, but he did not often speak. He had a child-like demeanor but the physical presence of a warrior. Mother despised Innocence. She clawed and spat and tried to brutalize him as Sephiroth had to Pain. But Innocence, as small and weak as he was, remained, undeterred, watching in wait.
None of the other voices quite knew what to make of Innocence, but Dreams protected him with the same determination that Fate had when in a fit of fury. They were a pair, yet not. Innocence would not exist if not for Dreams, but Dreams was easier to strike down…even ignore. Innocence, when he chose to make himself known, overshadowed Mother's demands.
Sephiroth knew he had to be wary of all of the voices.
Even Mother's.
He loved her, but every other whisper screamed for him to doubt.
Mankind knew it as madness, this exchange within his mind. Sephiroth knew himself to be sane, yes, quite sane. He could calculate and consider.
But there moments, flickers of something not quite real, when everything fell silent. It was then that the true nature of Pain, Mother, Honor, Fate, Dreams and Innocence were all lain out plain.
Pain had created him.
Mother was using him.
Honor and Fate were warning him.
Dreams was trying to save him.
And Innocence…
Innocence would one day destroy him.
Fin
A/N: ( Anyone care to guess who all of the different 'voices' represent? I tried to make it obvious. Hehe. Please review! )