Disclaimer:
The FFVII world is the property of Square-Enix, as are all names,
locations and terms where appropriate. I am a filthy rotten
copyright infringing thief.
Warnings: Language, violence, religious themes
Card:
The High Priestess.
Summary:
Memories, and getting out of the desert.
Comments:
Writing might slow up for a bit as I play FFXII (pity us Brits and
our PAL). As ever, please review if you have time and inclination,
and thanks to all reviewers / people who have put this on their
favourites or alert lists so far.
Chapter II
Yitgaddal
v'yitqaddash sh'meh rabba b'al'ma di v'ra khiruteh - Opening of the
Kaddish Yatom
"May His great Name grow exalted and sanctified in the world that
He created as He willed."
ν — Era 20030316
Crunch… crunch…
The heat and the silence were getting unbearable. The ache in Kenan's legs was starting to overpower everything else, even the dryness in his mouth and the pain from where he'd been flung against the rock.
Crunch… crunch…
He watched the dark cloak swish across the sand a few paces in front of him. The Apostate didn't seem to object to him following her, at least. Or, she hadn't said anything about it. Or anything at all.
Crunch… crunch…
She was… young. For some reason that had struck him when he'd seen her. He'd expected someone older from the voice. Did she really know what she was doing? Could she really survive on her own out here? The other one had seemed to be the one in charge…
She had killed him. Without hesitation.
But they had seemed on good terms, from the few words he'd heard the two exchange.
Just what had happened back there?
Crunch… crunch…
They were following the cliff face… north, he guessed. What was north of the desert? Not much. Vana, but that was well off over the mountains. Costa Nova must be about the same distance to the east, but that was desert all the way. Where else was there? Muspel to the south-east, but going there would take them right through the heart of the desert.
Two days to get out of the desert, the Apostate had said. How long after that before he got back to civilisation?
He would cross that bridge when he came to it. It wasn't as if he didn't know how to survive outside the city-shields, after all. It was easy as long as you knew how to find clean water and shelter, and what not to eat under any circumstances. Which was most things.
Crunch… crunch…
He was pretty sure the heat was getting to him.
Crunch… crunch…
"Hey. Where are we headed, exactly?"
No response.
Crunch… crunch…
"You do know where you're going, right?"
No response.
Crunch… crunch…
"You could at least tell me your name."
"Shekinah."
Kenan nearly tripped over his feet.
"R…really?" he blurted lamely. "Well, I'm Kenan."
That got a barely perceptible nod.
"You… don't talk much, do you?"
Shekinah shrugged.
"I have little to talk about with Yeledim ha'Aretz. We rarely have much in common."
"With… what? You're talking about me, right? Well… we have something in common now, don't we? We're both stuck out here."
The Apostate appeared to be considering that as they walked.
"I…suppose that is true."
ooAoAoUoo
Kenan trudged along in silence again. He had tried to keep his spirits up thinking about what he would do when he got back to civilisation. Have a long cold drink or several of something brain destroyingly alcoholic was high on the list. And a bath. Not just a shower. An actual bath. How long had it been since he'd had a bath? And then…
And then an odd, hollow voice in the back of his mind has said: start writing letters.
Shit.
Shepton… he'd always been "Shepton", never "Darren", for some reason… he had a wife and two kids. Never shut up about them.
Martin had got engaged… three, four months ago? He and his girl were both saving up for the wedding…
Kyle wrote to his parents religiously, every week. So did Vaughn, though he would probably garrotte anyone who brought it up within earshot of him.
…past tense, past tense…
Adrian was a huge guy, but he moved like a cat. Got edgy in tight spaces too. Nicholas was quiet, but one of the best snipers he'd ever seen. Kristof was from over in Svartalf, broad and cheerful and you couldn't understand a word he was saying sometimes. Rhys was the group's medic, and was in a permanent light-hearted slanging match with Eddie, who never seemed to be without a cigarette. Aiden was always joking, as well as having the miraculous ability to procure alcohol just about anywhere. He'd trust Dominic with his life, just not with his wallet. Joe was… Joe was…
Fuck.
What the hell was he going to say? Sorry, your son / brother / significant other got dragged under the sand and smothered by a desert monster the size of an apartment block?
Who would even believe him?
He had that horrible urge to throw up again.
"Hey, uh, Shekinah. What are you going to do when we get out of this?"
"I must report to the Apostasy," she replied bluntly.
Well, that made sense. But the only Apostate places were way up north…
"You're going all the way to the Northern Continent? On your own? That's insane!"
"I don't see how it is any of your concern."
That made Kenan pause. Why did he care? She was an Apostate. They didn't care about anyone except themselves. But… if it wasn't for Apostates, he'd already be dead three times over today. They might not have done it for him, but still.
If it wasn't for Apostates he wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.
"Yeah, well why am I any of your concern? You could have just left me, but you didn't."
"You are the one who chose to follow."
"And you're the one going at a speed I can keep up with."
To his surprise, Shekinah laughed.
"You are… observant."
"So, why?"
There were a few seconds of silence. Then:
"Your death would serve no purpose."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? What about everyone else back there? Did their deaths have any "purpose"?"
"That was… unfortunate. But they have returned to the NaharhaKhayim. Any other death would have had the same result, in the long term."
"The nahar hakhayim? You mean the Lifestream, don't you? What good is that? That's just how life is broken down and… and… recycled! They're still gone!"
His words were swallowed up by the open desert, and Kenan realised he had stopped to yell at the retreating figure ahead of him. He kicked at the sand in frustration and hurried after her, his whole body protesting. They continued in silence for a few minutes.
"The Planet remembers," Shekinah murmured. Kenan looked up from sullenly watching his boots drag in the sand.
"What?"
"The Planet remembers. The khayim may flow and cycle, but the pattern remains deep in the memory of the world. The Planet forgets nothing. It that way, nothing truly dies."
Kenan blinked a few times. Was that what the Apostates believed? There was something about the way she had said it, quiet and almost sad. It had sounded like something important. Was she, in her own way, trying to make him feel better?
"The Planet remembers… everything?"
"Everything that has lived and returned to the khayim, the Planet remembers."
"The Planet can do that?"
"Yes."
The Planet remembers, Kenan thought. But even if it did, it wasn't as if the Planet cared.
ooAoAoUoo
The sun had sunk behind the cliffs, granting some shade though it hadn't yet gone down entirely. The whole world, the sand, the rocks, the sky, had gone blood red. Or maybe it was just his eyes, Kenan thought, and the heat and exhaustion and dehydration.
Maybe… maybe he should have a drink. But there was already less than half the water left. He shouldn't… they'd be stopping for the freezing desert night soon, he'd take a drink then. But if he didn't he might not make it that far. His vision was blurred, he noted dispassionately. Dizzy. Stumbling. Head pounding. If he stopped now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to set off again.
Had to keep going. Then, rest for the night, then only one more day, right? As long as he could keep following Shekinah…
How long was she going last? She hadn't drunk anything at all. And any normal person would have been exhausted even before she started walking; after all, she had used more than enough magic to cause most people to pass out down in the caves, then been in the most intense fight he had ever seen. And however powerful Apostates might be, nothing could live off thin air. Just how far could an Apostate push themselves before they succumbed?
The image of the other Apostate, Gedulah, flashed across his consciousness. Flickering with power, expression twisted into a cold sneer. A shiver ran down his spine.
How long before they just went crazy?
He remembered something… where had he heard it? When?
Apostates never travel alone. Always at least in pairs. It's so if one of 'em goes nuts, there'll be someone around strong enough to take 'em out.
Suddenly, Kenan felt horribly alone.
The red sky slowly faded to dull brown, and finally to blue-black speckled with stars. Then the chill started to creep up, accompanied by a wind that whipped stinging grey grit into Kenan's face. The blurred shape ahead of him showed no signs of stopping.
"Don't…" he gasped, then stopped to cough out some sand. "Don't you need to rest?"
"No." The response was flat.
"No… no way. You have to need rest some time! No food, no drink, no rest… how are you still standing? You'll kill yourself if you keep going like this! What… what the hell am I supposed to do then?"
"I will be fine. This body is incorruptible."
"What… what? What is that supposed to mean? You're getting delirious."
"We keep going."
There was an edge to her voice then, and Kenan felt a shudder run through him that had nothing to do with the night chill. He was going to die out here. Because he passed out from exhaustion or dehydration or because he couldn't keep up or because Shekinah's estimate of two days hadn't involved stopping at all or because he got killed by a crazy Apostate, it didn't matter.
He felt something scrape against his shoulder, and dully realised they had wandered right in close to the cliff. He let his arm drag along the rock, partly for support, partly just to feel something other than sand and wind and thirst and pain.
He was starting to hear things. Voices in the wind, odd rustlings in the distance, the sound of water…
The figure ahead of him was gone.
How long had she not been there? Maybe a long time. Maybe she never had been in the first place. Had he been hallucinating? For how long?
He toppled sideways as the cliff disappeared from his side and landed face down in the sand. With aching slowness he pulled his head up.
There was green.
He pulled himself up onto his knees and stared.
In the sheltered hollow in the cliff face, there was green. Luxuriant plants, leaves rustling in the breeze, and beyond them water, in semicircular pool up against the rock. A dark stain above it marked where the stuff trickled down out of the cliff. The whole scene had an otherworldly glow… the light seemed to be coming from the water itself, lighting the leaves from beneath.
It couldn't be real. It didn't look real. Was this what happened just before you died of dehydration?
Shekinah was sitting by the pool.
Kenan dragged himself to his feet and staggered towards her.
"Uh…?" he managed.
"We can rest for a while here. Drink."
"This… not real. Can't be."
"Drink."
Kenan dropped heavily to his knees. He could feel the moisture in the air. Without consciously thinking about it, he found himself cupping his hands and reaching towards the pool, half expecting meet the texture of sand and have the whole taunting scene melt in front of his eyes.
It was wet.
The next thing he knew he was choking water down his front, and someone was chuckling.
"You shouldn't drink so fast."
Kenan laughed, full of relief, and bent down to take another drink. It was warm, but it tasted like heaven.
"How is it that there's water out here?" he asked when he had finally had enough, "And why is it glowing like that?"
"There are a lot of springs in this area, if you know where to look. Water collects in caverns in the bedrock and comes up through the cliffs. As it seeps through the rocks it gets infused with khayim."
"What, there's mako in the water? Is that dangerous?"
"Not in small concentrations. Quite the opposite, it should have some healing properties."
"Huh. And, not that I'm in a position pick and choose here, but anyway, how do you know there's nothing else contaminating it?"
Shekinah gestured vaguely.
"The flowers."
Kenan looked around. There were large white and yellow flowers growing in clumps around the pool. What was more, now that he was thinking more clearly he recognised them. Lillium Priscum, Midgar Lillies. Of course, it was one of the first lessons you learned about survival in the wilderness. Wherever those flowers grew pure white or yellow, any water nearby was safe to drink. There were few indications simpler or more certain.
Shekinah had pulled off her hood and lent down to drink, her long metallic hair trailing in the water. But as soon as she swallowed she choked harshly and clamped a hand over her mouth. Dark fluid trickled between her fingers.
"Hey, you alright?" Kenan said startled, and tried to reach out to help her. She batted his hand away, still bent over, and swallowed hard.
"I'm fine," she said, looking up at him.
Kenan skittered backwards. How had he not noticed before? Those eyes…
They were poison green and glowed like the water, no, stronger. And the pupils… the pupils were almond-shaped in the dull light, but in the day they must narrow to slits.
"You're… you're not human…" he breathed.
"True," Shekinah replied evenly.
The scene froze for a few seconds, Kenan's chest heaving with shock as he watched the Apostate watching him with those alien eyes.
He slumped back into the greenery.
"I'm sorry, okay? I was just… surprised."
Shekinah smiled slightly.
"It's alright. Even some of the Akhavah are shocked when they first see a Yeledim Gehenna."
"What does that mean? Yeledim Gehenna? And Akhavah?"
"Akhavah is our name for ourselves, what you call the Apostasy. It means "Brotherhood"."
"And Yeledim Gehenna?"
Shekinah sighed and leant her head back, looking up at the stars. For a moment he thought she wasn't going to answer. Then:
"Loosely translated, "the Children of Hell"."
Kenan decided not to ask any further about that one.
ooAoAoUoo
ν — Era 20030317
And then, another day of desert. The going seemed easier this time around, and it seemed Shekinah had been right about the water – Kenan was pretty sure the bruises on his back had disappeared, along with most of the aches in his limbs.
In the second half of the day the sand slowly gave way to rocky scrubland. Soon the ground was carpeted in thick, tough creepers, bleached bone white by the sun. Wherever things did grow, they didn't do it by half measures.
Left unchecked, plant growth swallowed everything on the surface. It burrowed through stone and concrete, buckled metal, choked machinery. It got everywhere and could fast get out of control, growing far too quickly to clear in time.
Once, long ago, people had tried living underground. But the power demands were too high; lighting, heating, maintaining the tunnels. All the sources of power, wind, water, the sun, were above ground, as was the food. People had moved back to the surface, and the underground cities had been abandoned.
Now there were the cities. Fortresses against the invading plant and animal life, thickly walled and with materia generated shields perpetually humming over them to keep out seeds and spores drifting on the wind.
"We should be out of Weapon's way by now. It keeps its territory clear…" Shekinah murmured, shaking Kenan out of his reverie.
"Weapon? That… huge monster thing?"
The Apostate nodded.
"Ancient guardians of the Planet," she said, and continued sounding as though she was reciting something from memory, "two on the land, two in the waters, one in the heavens, one at the heart of the earth."
"What, there's more than one of those things?" Kenan blurted. But… something that had been brewing in the back of his mind was starting to click into place.
"Long ago. Perhaps again."
"And… you knew about it? You knew it was there?"
"No."
Kenan deflated slightly.
"We merely suspected."
It all clicked into place.
"You used the expedition as bait," Kenan said quietly, a strange, cold anger welling up inside him. "You sacrificed all those people just to be sure that thing was out there?!"
"It was protecting the materia. Just the two of us would have been unlikely to attracts its attention."
"You set us all up!"
Shekinah just shrugged.
That was the last straw. Suddenly there was someone to blame, someone to be angry at. And Kenan was angry, he realised, angrier than he could ever remember being before. He didn't think, he just charged.
The next thing he knew he was landing hard several feet away on the rough, woody carpet of creeping roots. The Apostate had gone. Pulling himself up and looking around, bracing for an attack, Kenan eventually spotted a dark shape stood high on a cliff ledge above him.
"So. I guess we part ways here. It was… interesting."
He could practically hear the cruel smirk in her voice as she called down. Before he could react, she had jumped up to the top of the cliffs and over, out of sight.
"Bitch!"
It wasn't eloquent, but it was all he could think of.
Kenan stood there for a while, trying to gather his thoughts. What now? He was out of the desert, at least. So… keep north, along the cliffs? Keep looking out for springs. He would have to get somewhere eventually…
A flash of sunlight reflected briefly from somewhere far ahead, up atop the cliffs. And again, and again… a steady glint, glint, glint. A signal? Machinery? If it was machinery, it had to be moving, and that meant it hadn't been clogged up by plants yet… someone had to be keeping it clear regularly. That meant people!
He mustn't get his hopes up too high, Kenan thought. But it had to be worth investigating. He set off towards the light.
The lone glint was gradually joined by more as he got closer, and eventually the shapes became clear. Windmills, the sun rhythmically reflected off the turning sails. Working windmills meant people. Anything built outside the shields needed regular clearing to keep it functioning. There would be inspection teams at least once a week. If he stuck close to the windmills, he would surely be found at some point.
It wasn't too hard to find a climbable path up the cliff face. The creepers carpeting the ground also covered most of the rock, providing easy footholds. After a little more walking he started to hear the characteristic whump…whump…whump of sails moving through the air.
When he got to the base of the nearest windmill the tiredness hit him. Relief was draining the adrenaline he had been working off up until this point. He stopped and looked up. Thick, woody vines had already nearly reached the top of the pillar, despite signs of relatively recent clearing. In just a few days they would wrap around the sails and hold them fast, and the windmill would be useless.
The steady motion of the white metallic sails above him against the blue sky was making him dizzy. He lost his balance, missed the support of the windmill column as he tried to grab it, and passed out before he hit the ground.
