Chapter 1

The meadow blossomed at her touch. At least, that's how it felt to her. Every bloom she picked seemed more vibrant than she had found it. Her left hand was full of flowers of every sort; roses, daisies, sopherias, galbana lilies, of all sizes and hues. That was the reason Aerith Gainsborough loved Lhant Hill. Flowers grew there all year round, no matter what the season. It was a place she could always hear the flowers' voices, singing out a melody as sweet as their fragrances. She could lay there, eyes closed, for hours, just listening.

Aerith placed her bouquet into the basket at her side, before lying down among the blooms to hear what the flowers decided to sing that day. A soft hum, as the breeze moved their petals and soon the meadow was alive with music, but something was off. Aerith could hear a soft moan every now and again. She thought it was her imagination at first, but soon found that that wasn't the case.

She sat up and scanned the meadow for the source. A few feet away lay a young girl, probably around 14, and she was injured. Aerith quickly went to her side and cast a healing spell before attempting to awaken her.

Purple glazed over eyes opened and rested on Aerith. Lips moved in an attempt to speak, but there was no sound. Aerith brought an arm under the girl's body and helped her to sit up. Finally, the girl found her voice. "Where?" She coughed.

"Lhant Hill, near Kirlsa," Aerith answered. The girl didn't look any less confused. "Who?"

"I'm Aerith. Come on, you should get some rest. We'll head to my place. We can talk after you're feeling better." The girl nodded and attempted to stand. Aerith helped her and then directed her to lean on her. Aerith and the girl hobbled over to her basket and Aerith skillfully scooped it onto her arm. She then led the girl down the hill and to Kirlsa.

Once home, Aerith let the girl rest in her bed and treated her. Soon the pallor of her skin had brightened and she was breathing easily. Aerith wiped her forehead now assuming her work was done. She stood to leave the room, but was stopped with a voice. "Thank you."

"Of course," Aerith said, returning to the bedside.

"What was your name?" She asked. Again Aerith replied, "Pretty," the girl responded.

"What about you?" Aerith asked.

"What?" the girl's confused expression returned.

"What is your name?" Silence came, and Aerith could see the confusion change to frustration. "You don't remember, do you?" The young girl shook her head. "Oh well, it doesn't matter right now. Just rest." The young girl nodded and closed her eyes. Smiling, Aerith left the room and began working on arranging the flowers she had picked.

"So pretty," came a voice from behind that made Aerith jump. She looked back to see the young girl. She looked so healthy, one would never have guessed that she had been injured and resting all morning and most of the afternoon.

"Yes," Aerith agreed, tracing a petal of an Easter lily gently with a finger. "I love flowers."

"Me too!" The girl said, bending down to touch a purple bloom. "These are my favorite."

"Sopherias," Aerith said. The girl's purple orbs met Aerith's green ones and then dropped sadly.

"I wasn't able to sleep very well," she said, absently tracing sopheria petals. "I kept trying to remember who I am or where I come from or anything. I don't remember anything."

Aerith touched her shoulder and smiled. "It's okay. Things like that take time. You'll remember eventually. Until then, you're welcome to stay here."

The girl's eyes fell again. "Thank you Aerith."

Aerith then stood quickly, which shocked the girl. "I think we should get something to eat." The girl stood and nodded. Aerith took her hand and led her to the door. "Who knows, maybe something will trigger your memory while we're out." The girl nodded again, this time more readily.

Kirlsa's air smelt of ore as usual and the miners marched to and from the mines with their picks or carts of stone. It wasn't a very rich town, in fact it was quite rundown and poor; the buildings aging with rust. Despite this, the inhabitants were quite happy with their lives. Aerith lived on the north side of town, near an abandoned church. She could see the towering structure of the monster infested Training Facility on the outskirts of town as soon as she left her house. The structure always made her shiver. Why such a building was necessary, she could never understand.

Turning left, Aerith led the girl past the church, the mine's opening, and turned right before reaching the small restaurant connected to the inn. Behind it, she could see the mansion, which was now used as a military base for the country's heavy cavalry, the Black Brigade. Captained by a man who saw no value in life, an enemy's, an ally's, or even his own. How he had changed since he was a child.

Shaking her head of her thoughts, Aerith and the girl entered the restaurant. "Well look who it is," a waitress said coming up to them. "I haven't seen you in awhile. Been too busy with your flowers to come say hi?" She teased.

Aerith laughed, "Sorry Lebreau. I've been meaning to, but you know how it is. Money is hard to come by these days."

Lebreau's smile dropped. "I know," she said. "The mine is nearly exhausted. Many people have already left town for Burg in hopes of finding jobs there." The two were silent for a moment before Lebreau asked, "Who's this little one with you?"

"Oh, well, she's—" Aerith was about to explain, but was interrupted by the little girl.

"Sophie."

Aerith stood shocked for a moment. "Did you remember?" She asked.

The girl shook her head. "No, but I need to be called something, right? I remember you calling those flowers sopherias so I thought I could be named after them." Aerith nodded.

"Sophie's a great name!" Lebreau said and then motioned for them to follow her to a table.

During dinner, Sophie asked all sorts of questions about flowers and Aerith cheerfully obliged. She enjoyed Sophie's company very much. They were kindred spirits in a way. Dinner was over too soon and Aerith wanted to chat more, but Sophie had been injured earlier and probably still needed her rest. "We should head back. It'll be getting dark soon," she said. Sophie nodded.

Once more, Aerith led the way. Lebreau called over a goodbye which the two responded to and then left the building. Something warm bumped into Aerith and she struggled to regain her footing. Once she had, she looked up to see a young man with long dark hair, staring down at her; his red gaze cold, annoyed, and distant. "Watch where you're going maggot," he said.

Aerith smiled sheepishly before apologizing, "Sorry Albel." He grunted and continued on his way, entering the building she and Sophie had just left.

"He didn't seem very nice," Sophie noted.

"He's always like that," Aerith replied and went on her way. Sophie followed behind, noticing how Aerith's demeanor had changed. She wanted to ask about it, but didn't want to make Aerith any sadder than she already appeared to be. Instead she chose silence.

Back at home, Aerith sent Sophie off to bed, before returning to her flowers. Soon, she was humming as she worked. The flowers always knew how to brighten her mood.

Meanwhile, high above the country of Fynn, a white dragon awoke from its slumber. It stretched its wings, its tail, and its neck, before turning toward the large tree it guarded. One lone fruit clung to its branches, but the dragon knew that the fruit's time to fall was at hand. Raising its head to the sky, it cried out, sending a message through the wind to any who would hear it.

In the mountains, west of the capital Burg, lay the secret village of the manakete, Goldoa. There, the dragon's message was heard.

A young girl with dragon-like wings quickly descended from her perch, atop a tall tree stump and flew off toward her home village. It seemed that she was not the only one who heard the voice. The whole village had gathered in the square of their own accord, hoping that their elder would speak to them of it.

Myrrh sheathed her wings and made her way desperately through the crowd, apologizing as she went to those she bumped. At long last, she could see an opening through the bodies like a light at the end of a cavern. Dodging through the hole before someone could block it, Myrrh rushed up the steps of the elder's manor, where he and his attendant were discussing.

"Was it Quark?" Was it the white dragon?"Myrrh asked breathlessly as she came to a stop in front of them, panting heavily.

The elder's attendant, Morva, turned toward her. "Myrrh, honestly, where have you been!?"

"I'm sorry father, I was just—"

"Now is not the time for such trivial matters. Yes, it was Quark you heard." The elder answered her earlier question, before addressing the crowd that had gathered. "Surely you all have heard it; the voice echoing from the northern peaks. It was the white dragon of Althena who guards the Divine Tree. A grave matter has come before us, but regrettably there is none left who can save us. The race with that power perished long ago." There was a murmur in the crowd, followed by a rise of panic. Myrrh felt hopeless as well. Why was Crossel saying this? As a leader he should do all he could to make his people feel safe even if they were to perish.

Crossel rose his right hand to silence the crowd and after some time he succeeded, but a feeling of dread hung over them. "There is one hope, however. A legend passed down to us. It speaks of one who can still hear the voice of the Goddess. Now, I address all who are brave. Come and see me. I may have a job for you. That is all." With that, Crossel turned away from the crowd and entered his home. Myrrh and her father followed. "I hope they'll be alright," Myrrh muttered.

"Hm?" was her father's reply.

"Whoever grandpa sends."

Soon, the great hall was filled by many young men and women, including one of Myrrh's closest friends, Nowi. "You want to go on the mission?" Myrrh asked her and Nowi nodded.

"If it will save our people, I will." Myrrh nodded. She agreed. "I won't deny that I'm not afraid though, especially to you."

"Now the job I have in mind is a very difficult one. It involves travelling all over the world and has little chance of success. If you do not feel up to this task you may leave at any time." At this point, several people stood, bowed respectfully, and left the building. Myrrh heard Nowi gulp, but she stayed put. "One of you must find this one person who the legends say can save us. This person is most likely among the wingless." A murmur went through those remaining and a few more stood to leave. "They're not like us," someone said. Another added, "They are like beasts, always hungry, never satisfied, and never caring who might get hurt."

Nowi wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. "The wingless terrify me. I can't do this."

Crossel seemed to have finished speaking, as he was looking around the hall. He was waiting for a volunteer. Myrrh didn't believe the tales about the wingless. Surely not all of them could be bad. Finally Myrrh sighed, the discussion of the wingless was still being disputed. Slowly, she stood and took a few steps forward. "I'll go. I'm not afraid of the wingless."

Silence filled the hall and shock was on many faces, but her father's and Nowi's showed it most of all. "Those are not our kind of people, Myrrh," Nowi whispered, but Myrrh ignored her comment. Crossel only smiled at her outburst, as if he already knew that his granddaughter would volunteer. "I see we have a volunteer. Come, we must prepare you for the long journey ahead."