The Last of the Ancients
A Final Fantasy VII Fanfic
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Final Fantasy games, movies or characters.
Background info: The basic story for this came to me in a dream, and at first the main character was just some nameless girl, but only later did I realize it could only be the story of Aeris' mother Ifalna. It's rather short, but complete. Enjoy!
They say the Cetra, or Ancients, as they are sometimes called, mate for life. This bond is so strong that it can transcend even death. Ifalna found her mate on that beautiful spring day when the Shin-Ra raided her village and wiped out her people.
The attack began in the early hours of the morning. The soldiers had surrounded the seclusive mountain village during the night and started pouring into the streets at the crack of dawn. There was no escaping them.
They systematically went through all the houses, knocking down doors and pulling every last man, woman and child from their beds, brutally beating down any resistance without hesitation.
Ifalna had been up early as usual, preparing breakfast for her family, when she heard screams and through the kitchen window saw the people being dragged into the town square. Many were still clad in their nightgowns, shivering in the morning air that still bore the crispness of the recent winter.
She ran to wake her father, who quickly sized up the situation and amidst their protests shoved his daughter and her little brother into a closet and with a hammer positioned himself behind the door of the little cottage.
Only seconds later, three men dressed in black body armor stormed through the door and knocked the father to the ground. The boy, seeing this through a crack in the wooden door, shook off the arms of his sister who was desperately trying to hold him back, and sprang from the closet with a loud cry to help his father. With his small fists he started pounding the soldier who had beaten his father, but the man picked him up effortlessly by the scruff of his neck and held him up at arms length, laughing.
The father, springing up to protect his son, fell to his knees again after the second soldier dealt him a vicious blow to the legs. As the girl watched from inside the closet, the first soldier drew an automatic gun and fired a salvo into her father's chest. At this, the boy began to scream and struggled even more violently, until the second soldier fired a single bullet to his head and the small body slumped to the floor.
The third soldier, who couldn't have been older than 20, had during all this been standing to one side and had grown very pale. The first soldier ordered him to search the closet for any more survivors, saying he thought he had heard a sob. The young man approached the closet with caution, slowly reaching for the half-open door with one hand while holding his gun at the ready in the other.
Inside the closet he found, amidst a wild jumble of clothes and blankets, the tear-streaked face of the girl. The moment their eyes met, she felt as if she had been struck by a bolt of lightning, and he too had a strong and unknown sensation, a kind of tingling mixed with longing.
After staring at her for a second or two, he pulled himself together and, calling out „All clear, Sir!" turned around and shut the door of the closet, just a little too loudly. The girl heard one of the other men give the order to move out, then the door slammed, and she was alone.