'Reliquary'

Chapter 1
The Staff

"Do you wanna come out and play?" the young boy asked.

"Not now, Denzel. I'm busy," Cloud replied. Denzel's expression turned sour for a moment, before he wandered back outside to play with Marlene and the other children.

It was spring again, and the Avalanchers were occupied with cleaning up the Seventh Heaven and throwing things out in order to make more room upstairs. As a result, the bar was closed for the day, while they piled up boxes filled with bric-a-brac which they intended to get rid of the following morning.

"Cloud, can you take a look at the attic?" Tifa asked.

He headed up the stairs to the second floor, then climbed up the rickety wooden ladder leading to the Seventh Heaven's gloomy loft. The room was musty and cramped, as was to be expected. After their adventures, when they had started to settle down, they had simply gathered up all of their possessions and thrown them into a heap, always with the intent of sifting through them later, but somehow they had never gotten around to doing so before today.

Cloud walked over into the corner of the room. As he shifted one of the heavy crates out of the way, something behind it came loose, landing on the floor with a loud clang. A metal staff, still dented at the edges from years of use. He picked up the staff, recognizing it as the one Aerith had wielded during their journey around the world. Looking up again, he noticed that there was something else tucked away in the corner. A simple wooden box, with someone's initials carved into the side.

'A.G.'

It dawned upon him that the box likely contained the few possessions that the last Cetra had left behind. She hadn't had many things, but in the wake of her passing, he had done his best to preserve what few relics remained, small mementos of their time together. He tried to open the box, but found that it was locked. He considered prying it open for a moment, but decided against it, not wanting to damage the box or its contents.

Setting the box aside for the time being, he examined the staff again. It was beginning to rust, and its sides were crusted here and there with tinges of blood, now long since clotted and embedded in the staff's frame, signs of the many battles it had seen.

He recalled that she had abandoned it after their last battle together, before heading for the Northern Continent all by herself. It had accompanied her all throughout their journey, though he knew it must have been in her possession for much longer than that. She had spent years fending for herself in the slums underneath Midgar's wealthy neighborhoods, after all. He still found it miraculous that anything as pure as her could emerge from such a dismal environment, as though she had somehow existed outside of the reality of her surroundings.

It was easy to think of her that way sometimes. That hers had been a fleeting, unearthly presence, destined to depart from the world once her work was complete. "Too good for this sinful earth," one was sometimes tempted to think. But that was too simple a way of looking at things. No, she was flesh and blood, he reminded himself. The staff that he held in his hands told him as much. It was a little reminder that, despite her kindly and unassuming nature, she was no happy-go-lucky ditz or naïf. It represented nothing less than her resolution not to let the world break or change her, try as it might. It was also a symbol of her strength, her determination to protect the things that mattered most to her.

A heavy thump coming from downstairs awoke him from his reminiscence, and he realized that he had been standing there for several moments longer than he'd intended. He set the staff and box back into the corner, with the intention of finding the key later, if possible.

"Find anything up there?" Tifa asked as he returned to the bar downstairs.

Cloud shook his head. "Just some stuff," he replied. "I'll take a better look tomorrow."

They resumed their work, discarding old junk and moving boxes around until the sun started to disappear behind the horizon.

"Well, thanks, guys," Tifa said, patting the dust from her hands. "This might take a little longer than we expected," she added, looking around the Seventh Heaven, which still appeared as though it had been turned upside down. "You're welcome to stay the night. We've got plenty of beds upstairs."

"Naw, it's all right," Barret said. "We're headed for the hotel up the street."

"Are you sure?" Cloud asked.

"Wouldn't want to impose," Vincent said.

"You kids get some sleep," Cid said. "We'll see you in the morning."

They waited until the others had left, then set about closing the place up for the night.

"I'll put the kids to bed," Tifa said. "You staying up long?"

"No, I think I'll hit the hay early," Cloud said. "Just want to get some things squared away first."

"Okay," Tifa said. "Well... good night," she added, ushering Denzel and Marlene upstairs.

"Good night," Cloud replied. He finished packing away the last of his things, then walked over behind the bar, pouring himself a drink. He sat by himself at the counter for a moment, still thinking about the box he had found earlier that day, wondering what he might find inside.


Author's notes:

Just a short story this time around, a collection of reminiscences of Aerith from Cloud's point of view, as he uncovers the relics that she left behind. It seems to me that there aren't a whole lot of quality stories involving these two characters around anymore. Consider this my humble attempt to remedy that situation.

Thanks for reading. Leave a review or a thumbs up if you'd like to see more.

Cheers,
Nascent Raconteur