Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII. It belongs to SquareEnix. I, however, do own my original characters and plots.
Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! It gave me an ample boost of morale. I practically threw a party when I saw them. oO This chapter is a little short, and is being used to develop Aphrodite's character a bit more and to divulge an important flashback. It also introduces a secondary character, but I'm not revealing whom yet. Where's the fun in that? XD Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 2: Down in Flames

"Ares, I'm home!"

Aphrodite locked the front door behind her, and entered the tiny "living room" of their pitiful excuse of a home. She and her older brother lived in a small wooden cottage built in the depths of Sector 5's slums.

The young woman left her ragged bag bursting with apples and bread on the torn, black leather sofa. It was an old piece of trash she and her older brother rescued from the slums' extensive junkyards when they escaped to Midgar five years ago. Nothing in the Sorrows' house was new (as in most slum homes) except for the fresh flowers Aphrodite often brought in from the church or the Gainsborough garden. She always thought the flowers emanated an aura of peace and tranquility; a sense of protection from the hostile world they lived in.

"Ares?" called Aphrodite again. The elder of the two siblings had not answered nor come to greet her. A dark eyebrow quivered. "Ares! Answer me!"

Still no reply.

Aphrodite began to worry. "…Ares…?" she whimpered, and slowly, she soft-shoed to her brother's room. The door was open. She looked into his little room, her hand on the doorknob. Nowhere to be seen. In his place was a small piece of paper, resting peacefully on his twin-sized bed.

"Hm?" she mumbled to herself, picking up the little sheet. A note. Blinking her gray-green eyes, Aphrodite read, "'Sorry, sis. But I got a call from my boss. Should be back in time for dinner. Go ahead and start it without me. Love, Ares.'"

She sighed. Again? She should have known! Ares had been visiting his boss due to urgent calls quite frequently lately. Guess now she'd spend what was left of the day alone at home. Damn.

Emitting another sigh, Aphrodite let the note fall, slowly, from her hands.


"Mother? Father? Where—?"

"No time for that now, sis'! We're gonna be burnt to a crisp if we don't escape!" A twenty-year-old Ares grabbed his sixteen-year-old sister and yanked her out of bed. Everything was glowing fiery shades of red, yellow, and orange as the two siblings scrambled out of the girl's room and into the hallway.

A younger, more naïve Aphrodite was shocked and bewildered as she and her older brother hotfooted through the hallways of their grand mansion. Flames poured from their parents' room.

"Oh, no…" she whispered, her gray-green eyes wide with fear and shining with tears. "Are they…?"

"I couldn't save them, sister," said Ares, keeping a firm grip on his sister's hand.

Their parents were gone. And their home? On fire? What exactly was going on? Aphrodite was lost, confused, and terrified at the same time. Everything was a hot blur as they dashed down the giant, spiral staircase. She glanced at the wall, hoping to see the portraits and old photographs of the revered Travere family. Most of the pictures were gone, all burnt to ashes. Hot tears rolled down her smooth, freckled face.

"Aphrodite! Watch out!" exclaimed Ares. Aphrodite didn't even hear it fall, and before she knew it, she was buried under a large, burning wooden rafter.

"A-Ares!" called out her choked, terrified voice. She felt the angry flames crackling at her face, gnawing at her silk nightgown… She felt the fire on her skin as the silk easily caught flame… Screams of horror strangled her voice.

"Shit! Hold on, sis!" Ares's panicked voice sounded distant to Aphrodite as he tried to heave the burning rafter off of her.

"H-help! I'm burning!" Screams of agony exploded from Aphrodite's mouth, and she shook violently. "Ares! Don't let me die!"

Don't let me die…

"I promise I won't, sis!" Ares, with all his strength, shoved the rafter off his younger sister. Fire burned his skin, but it was ignored. Dozens of splinters pierced Aphrodite's skin, and the girl wailed in pain as Ares heaved her over his shoulder.

"Put me down, Ares," choked Aphrodite, her breathing labored. Ares got them out, quickly, of their home, and stood—stationary—on the ground outside.

"I can't, Aphrodite," refused her older brother. "You're too hurt."

"Put me down!"

"Oh, fine…" Ares reluctantly set his younger sister down on the ground, an arm around her waist to steady her.

Her eyes had been closed. Slowly, Aphrodite opened them, and lifted her head.

All of Nibelheim was in flames.

There was Tifa Lockheart's residence, its pretty walls engulfed in fire. Cloud Strife's house, with its front door open and a ShinRa soldier exiting it in disappointment. But her heart almost stopped when the girl turned to look up at their own home.

The once grand Travere mansion… Crumbling and falling apart in hell-bound fire. The home of the once wealthy and most noble Travere family. Crumbling. Dying. Burning. Aphrodite watched it all. She watched the mansion burn to ashes before her very eyes.

There burned Mother and Father as well. And what had become of the servants, her nurse, and Adam the butler? Did they escape? Aphrodite could not bear to speculate as her hometown, Nibelheim, and her home itself went down in flames.


"NO! NO! NO!" cried the tear-drowned voice of Aphrodite Sorrows, and she clawed at her torn pillow. "NO!" Wails of agony and despair filled the still air of the once silent cottage.

"Aphrodite!" called Ares as he burst into his sister's tiny room. "Aphrodite! Are you okay?"

Tears stung the young woman's gray-green eyes, and she trembled. "No, no, no…" she sat up, and sobbed remorsefully. The memories…of the fire five years ago… Those memories haunted her. They chased Aphrodite in her dreams—or rather, her nightmares—and even when she was wide awake. Even seeing or using a Fire spell brought back the terrible recollections; or even when someone commented on her accent, like Reno had done earlier that day.

"Aphrodite…" murmured Ares, and he gathered his younger sister in his arms. "Was it that dream again?"

Aphrodite could not speak for the flowing tears. She merely nodded, weeping and trembling.

Ares bit his lower lip, stroking the girl's disheveled curls. Aphrodite felt a teardrop land on her head. Ares wept as well, she noticed. But his tears were soft and silent.

"It's alright, Aphrodite…" whispered her brother into her curls. "It's all over now…it was only a dream… Don't worry, I'm here with you…" valiantly gulping down his tears, Ares softly kissed Aphrodite's head. "I'm here, it's okay…"