He was improving.
Of course, there was no way he could have made it in the Corps back home.
Home. Hope. Two four letter words now, aren't they? Makes no sense to be stuck in the past.
There's the next target. Nothing else.
And yet, those flashing green eyes remind me of someone I know very well. Myself.
Hope Estheim wipes the glowing green blood from the edge of his Airwing, the last living trace of the Aster Protoflorian slicking off the lacquer with a sticky thud.
"It was just protecting its home, wasn't it?" Hope asks, eyes downcast, silver hair rustling as the weapon collapses, and folds in on itself to be stashed in his back pocket.
The bioluminescent leaves swirl around the last foe of the Gapra Whitewood, the mutated genetic freak of the army dead in the foliage. Before we two l'Cie found its den here in the forest canopy, it was the last bastion of defense, guarding the realm between civilization and wood.
"Having regrets?" I ask, turning my back on the gory scene, already scanning the treetops for the next threat. Without thinking, my gaze shifts to the belly of Eden above us, gliding serenely through the evening sky.
"I don't have time to regret. It's just like you said, Light. It's the next target, the next move. There's Operation NORA, and then..."
I stand, arms folded, waiting for the rest. "And then, what?"
"I don't know. The Sanctum. The army. My focus. Figuring that out. Right now, my focus is to get stronger. I need your help."
I turn to my young protege, a smirk dancing on one lip. "Keep up fighting like that and pretty soon you won't need my help any longer."
Snapping jade green eyes lift in a moment of teenage rebelliousness. In that moment, the hesitation and self-doubt is gone. "That's the idea. We train. And then, and then I get strong enough to..."Gloved hands clench, and teeth grind. "To stand up for myself. I won't need anyone's help anymore from that day on. I'll grow up. I'll make my own way."
I was him. I had to grow up. Younger than his fourteen years, I was already trying to keep Serah off the streets and give us both a home. I needed someone to help me learn back then. I would have given anything for a protector. To have had someone show me the way. I had no one but myself to protect us both. For the sake of the hero I needed then, I will be one for Hope now. I will be his Light. His way. His benevolent protector...
...until he no longer needs me.
For some reason, his words pierce me. For a fleeting moment I look at this child, so full of will and grit, and realize that I am ephemeral. I will be part of his life until our Focus...and then what? Turn Cieth? My lessons are harsh, necessary...but only temporary. I will only be the next step in his progression to adulthoood. He will no longer need me.
He will be gone. Like Serah, and my parents. I am only what I can be used for. If I didn't have my strength, what use would I be? I needed to be strong for Serah, and then for the Corps. Serah is crystal and I abandoned the Corps. Hope keeps me focused now, along with my need for retribution. Anger fuels me. But when that burns out...what Light will I have left? I will have only Claire then.
I am a tool. A weapon to be used. Nothing more. A memory.
I do only what I know next, what has kept me alive and fed. I turn cold.
"It's dark. This Protoflorian was the last. It's dead now. We're safe for the moment. Let's find a place to make camp. Tomorrow, Palumpolum."
Hope makes his way to my side, where my cloak snaps in the wind. His eyes turn toward his homeland, and his father.
A brief nod. "Okay, then. Palumpolum."
The sewers were not what I had expected.
The word "sewer" brought up images of dark and unsanitary, but I was willing when Hope pointed me toward the iron-barred grate.
Inside, a glowing, bright, hidden world had awaited us.
"Having memories?" I look at Hope as we careen smoothly between platforms, circulating Carbuncle in a brief moment of respite between fiends.
The boy tugs on his neckerchief, trying to ventilate the sweat from our last battle. "Yes. Most of them pleasant, surprisingly."
He's so smart. He's scared, but it's showing less and less. I wouldn't have used the words he's choosing now when I was fourteen. I was much more brash and far less educated back then.
We come to a stop, and I vault to the next catwalk. Without thinking, I turn and hold out my hand to help the boy up alongside me.
His fingerless black gloves slide into mine, and I part my lips slightly at the touch. I'm becoming more comfortable around him. Usually I don't let anyone touch my hands unless they are meeting my fist.
Hope doesn't notice my stillness. "Thanks." A shy, boyish grin touches his face lopsidedly, and for a moment I swear I notice the faint rush of blood to otherwise alabaster white cheeks.
"Look out!" He cries.
Embarrassed at being caught off guard when I'm supposed to be in charge of point, I whirl, the antiquated gunblade out of its holster and unfurled by my side at the slightest touch.
A prowler of the fiery waste, an enormous Lucidon, has approached. Furious at being caught flat-footed by such an enormous and unwieldy beast, I charge in, gun blazing, sword bright.
The battle is joined. Blood sings through my veins. This is what I was made for. This is Lightning. Claire is compartmentalized inside me as I rush the creature, dodging virulent breath and electromagnetic charges that are a byproduct of the Carbuncle-infused diet beneath the city.
Charging, I swing the heavy blade in a perfect arc, whistling between clacking scales to slice at the tender flesh beneath.
Move, breathe, dodge. In, out. A gargantuan claw rakes harmlessly off my armored shoulderplate.
My turn. Gripping my blade, I launch off the ground, airborne and free, letting loose a round from the holster tucked smartly beneath the naked metal as I land on the opposite side of the creature, hoping that at least one bullet found its way in between the scales.
Yes. This is art. This is my target.
Feeling defiant, preferring death by combat, ready and fearless, I allow my hip to cock back lazily, meeting the creature's beady gaze. My Blazefire Saber swings up to my shoulder, and I flick rose-colored hair from my eyes.
"Ready when you are, giant."
Already wounded, the carapace sloughed off its cumbersome midsection, the furious creature bellows a challenge in return and rears up on hind legs, shaking the metal platform beneath our feet as it lands, running toward me.
I stand alert, bracing for the impact, rocking to the balls of my feet.
That's when disaster strikes in the form of Hope, flying out of my periphial. He doesn't notice the way I am positioned, not being a warrior. He doesn't know I'm using the animal's momentum to catapult me at the last moment onto its back to deliver the crushing blow.
The damn kid only wants to be a hero, only sees me standing still in the face of what seems like crushing oblivion.
"Come get it!" Hope cries, his silver voice so shrill against the roaring of the sewer monster, the yellow boomerang-shaped weapon so small.
I hardly have time.
"Hope!" I find myself crying out, and it sounds like a woman's cry of fear and concern.
I fling the boy away at the last moment. Hope has already delivered the killing blow to the animal. I watch as a flash of glowing light thunders out of Hope's glove to the pink vulnerable underbelly of the Lucidon, which is enough to throw the enormous creature over the side of the walkway.
But not before throwing me along with it. I barely have the wits left to brace as I smack into the railing, bending the steel supports before being thrown to the ground myself. The Lucidon's last snarl overpowers my moan.
"Light!" I hear my chosen name, and panting on my left side. "Here, I can help you."
Small, gentle hands touch my arm and back, the fingers delicate and airy. "You're hurt, but I've got you."His breath is warm and minty, and blows across my naked arms, rising gooseflesh to my skin. A tingling sensation occurs, and I can feel the energy locked deep within my fellow l'Cie's body rise up from his brand and call forth the healing magic. Shortly thereafter, I rise to my feet.
"Thanks." I look from beneath lowered lashes at my comrade-in-arms, this small boy with more courage and heart than he knows.
He is looking at me so strangely...it's almost...reverence.
"Stop looking at me like that." Angry at myself for not having been alert after helping Hope off the platform, and angry at having to save him from dying only to get seriously injured myself, I walk away, brushing the tops of my arms.
"What do you mean?" Hope asks, jogging to keep up with my angry pacing. I can feel my cloak swishing against the back of my legs with every step.
"You're looking at me like...like..." At a loss for words, and wishing I was better at talking, I wheel to face Hope. He pulls up short at my turn.
"You're looking at me as if you've never seen a woman before." That sounds stupid. "Besides, you shouldn't run between me and my target like that. You almost got us both killed. I know what I'm doing."
"Sorry." I forget that he's a kid. Abashed, and blushing once more, Hope turns, head down.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I should be thanking you for healing me. You are the better healer between us already."
At the praise, the kid lights up. He grins up at me, those green eyes of his twinkling with pride.
"Really? You think so?"
God, I can't imagine being so frail that a little bit of praise could influence my mood. He's so juvenile.
And to think, right before the fight, I was just reflecting on how grown-up he was for his age. So which is it? Is he mature or not? Why can't I make up my mind on the behavior of a fourteen year old? And why should it matter?
Back to the matter at hand. I place a hand on his shoulders, wide-set and sturdy for his age, and tilt my chin so that our eyes are more level with one another. "Yes, Hope. We all have our strengths and weaknesses as L'Cie. I'm the better warrior. Of course, who's to tell if that's due to my training as a human before we came into contact with that Pulse Fal'Cie, or if it's just part of my new skill set?" I sigh, allowing my hand to slide off his shoulder, running slightly down the skinny forearm before I drop my it down to my side once more. "Now, come on, we're burning daylight."
Later...
"But Lightning, I don't understand."
"Operation NORA is over."
Hope stares at me, flabbergasted. "What?"
"I..." How do I make this child understand? I couldn't have let go of hate so easily at his age.
"You told me to fight!" Hope turns angry, lashes out.
Unable to meet the searing truth in those searching eyes, I turn away, frustrated. "I made a mistake!"
Dejected, Hope walks away. "But-you can't do this. You can't just...build something up like that, then abandon me."
No. His words cut, sharper than my weapon ever could. With an intake of breath, I realize that I have to make him understand. I'm not giving up on him, just at the anger trapped within me. How do I find the words?
Desperate, I reach out for the boy, stopping him before he can walk away. I lower my gaze, make his soulful eyes meet mine. Please, let him see the truth in my eyes, even if I can't say the right thing.
"I won't abandon you. I won't." With those words, Lightning fades, and I am exposed. Hope looks at me, with all his childish dreams pleading in those eyes, and the moment is frozen in time. I have somehow grabbed hold of his brand, covering it with my hand, almost protectively, as if I could somehow ward his heart and his doom myself.
We stare at one another, both breathing in the silence, with only the sound of water rushing behind us. Something...is happening. With effort, I am the first to tear away my hands and my eyes, and stalk forward. I can feel Hope behind me, his eyes staring into my back. I turn and find him standing where I left him, except that his hand is now covering his brand, right over the place where I was touching him just a moment ago. His mouth is still open. The bright orange light from Carbuncle illuminates his soft face, a face still so young that it hasn't yet been able to form hair.
In that moment, he is my charge, and I am his. There can't be any secrets. I have to make him understand. He has to follow me. I only know that if he turned and found his father and continued his journey on his own-well, it would decimate me.
Is he considering running? The thought freezes my blood. No, I am his protector. He still needs me. He's not strong enough to fight on his own. Not yet. The day will come, and I will have to be strong, but it's not now. The neediness radiating from his small frame is still too fresh, too transparent. I beckon him with a wave of my hand.
"Come on, we'll be to your dad's in no time. Then we can decide what we want to do from there."
Come on, Hope. Just one step. Then another. With me. I extend my arm behind me. Unable to bear watching him possibly turning to walk away on his own, I force myself to walk up the steps to the next metal platform, toward the surface. You can't leave me. I will face the wrath of the armies of Cocoon, and the knowledge that Serah is gone, but I can't face it alone. I don't have the strength to do all of it. Hope is my Focus now. I will make him strong like me. Don't leave me like all the others. Please, Hope. I will show you the way, and together, we can make a new path.
I have to grab the rail next to me out of relief, and bow my head briefly in thanks as I hear the sound of boots mounting the steps behind me.
The next moment's rest between the fighting finds Hope and I resting on another set of stairs. Almost to the surface, now.
I know that this is the last time we have together, alone, before we find our way back out onto the streets of Palumpolum, the army, and Hope's father. This might be the last time I can tell him the truth.
Not knowing where the inspiration comes from, I admit to him that Lightning is not my real name, and the reasons for why I chose the handle for myself when I was only a few years younger than he is now. "Lightning...It can't protect, it only destroys." I finish my diatribe, unable to meet Hope's gaze as I stare out into the abyss. I was so headstrong, and careless. I would not have chosen Lightning as my name if I had known then what I know now.
There can't be any secrets.
I tell him that he has to have Hope, just as his name implies. Suddenly, it's so important to me that he find peace. He's too young to have all the anger that I once did. Now that I've let it go, and realized my fate, I feel as if it's my duty to make sure he doesn't end up in the same cold void that I had wrapped around me for so long. I have to be the one to make sure he understands where all his vitriol is heading..who else understands better than me? I am in the perfect position to guide him, to understand him. He's just a child. He needs leadership and control.
To my great relief, I turn and see that he's listening. He's not found peace yet, but at least he's listening to me. That's good. I sit next to him, and he looks up at me as I prop a foot up on a lower step.
"Serah tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen."
I reflect on the events that led up to my becoming a l'Cie, viewing in my mind's eye my sister before me as if it happened yesterday.
"I threatened her. The only one who believed her was Snow."
Hope perks up next to me, his voice full of venom. My thoughts are immediately brought to the present in the heat of his words.
"Don't say it! Don't say his name." When I turn to face him, he quiets his voice for a moment, as if he hadn't realized his sudden outburst.
With more control, he continues. "It brings everything back. I keep playing it in my head, what happened to her. And then I see his stupid face and...and he's smiling." A pause. "How can he smile when she's dead?"
Understanding and concern rip through me, and my hand goes out to him, unbidden.
The boy jerks back at my touch, and he leaps to his feet before I can say anything.
"I know!" His voice cracks under the weight of emotion and hormones. "There's nothing I can do about it. I hate knowing that. No matter what happens, she's not coming back."
He continues. "When I was fighting, there was no time to think about it." He is holding his brand again, where I had put my hand on him earlier. "It felt good just to give in. But now you start talking about hope..."
I look to him, and my heart melts for this boy. I can't control what I do next. It's like my body acts of its own accord.
I take his brand into my palm once more, and bodily turn this teenager toward me. He doesn't resist. It's like his body has gone limp, the fight suddenly sapped out of him.
Hope looks at me, his silver hair framing his angelic face. "I'm sorry. I'm messed up."
"No." I take the brand again, and this time, cover his forearm with both my hands. "It's my fault." Again, we are in the same position we were after the fight with Lucidon, and neither one of us is moving.
It's always me who acts first. I don't mind.
If we were still human, what I do next would be sacrilegious.
But we are L'Cie. Both of us. We are alike, he and I. We understand each other. We are on a path together. We are partners.
His eyes look up at me, and I bend down into an upturned face. The kiss I plant on his lips is soft, undemanding, understanding. I don't move closer, and keep my hands on his forearm. It's only a brief moment, and then I pull back.
Hope hadn't closed his eyes. He watches me stand. I release his arm. "Come on. We have to face Cocoon. Together." I step back. He hasn't moved.
"Light, I..."
"Shh. We've got to keep moving. I'll take point." Not daring to look back, and feeling more resolved and determined than ever, I ease my gunblade out of its sheath and head up to the light of the sun.