Chapter 2

Cloud drew on reserves of strength even he never knew he had and soon the landscape began to change. The wide plains gave way to low hills, marching upward in broken ranges. Far to the north he caught a glimpse of towering mountains, blue with distance and white with snow. Above these mountains shone the flaring rays of an aurora. They spread like a Wutai fan into the sky, frosty blades of cold light, changing in color, growing and brightening and then vanishing like the dreams of a dead girl as she is lowered into a lake.

Above him the skies glowed and crackled with strange light. The snow shone weirdly, now frosty blue, now icy crimson, now cold silver. Through a shimmering icy realm of enchantment Cloud plunged doggedly onward, trapped in a snowglobe where the only reality was the white body dancing across the glittering tundra beyond his reach – always just beyond his reach.

Cloud had settled into a rhythm now. He no longer felt the ache in his legs or the stab of his headaches, he only felt the fire in his veins and the memory of her as he lowered her into that still water not so far from where he was at that moment. Was that it? Was she leading him there? He couldn't afford to dwell on it. He couldn't afford to think, so he wouldn't. He couldn't risk anything entering his head that would distract him from his task or dilute his concentration. Even his personal well-being was pushed to one side, his bare, bloody chest open to the arctic winds.

The girl drifted out of sight for a moment and Cloud shouted, 'wait!' and spurred himself onwards, even harder. He spotted her again a moment later and growled to himself in determination, spitting froth as he ran. His legs became as strong and brittle as old iron and gradually he gained on her.

Suddenly she stopped, still more than a hundred meters away, and opened her arms to him. That light piece of pink cloth drifted away from her in the wind and she held it only for the sake of holding it, making no attempt to cover her nudity. The only colours he could see were the auburn of her hair, the green of her eyes and the pink of her nipples. 'Oh, Cloud!' She called, 'I missed you!' He almost fell over himself to reach her, his lungs exploding in his chest.

She was fifty meters away, then twenty, then ten. Then the snow exploded to his left and right and something heavy thudded next to him, knocking him off his feet.

'My brothers! Look what I brought you!' She called, skipping away and laughing happily.

Two giants bore down on him, two-handed hammers poised over gaping, black mouths. The links of their armour were white with frost; their helmets and their hammers were covered with ice. Snow sprinkled their greasy hair; in their beards were the spikes of icicles and their eyes were as cold as everything else in that place.

And she laughed over it all, as if at the best joke she had ever heard, made all the better because she had told it. The giants answered with roars like the grinding of icebergs and raised their warhammers as Cloud recovered and hurled himself at them. The girl gestured and the sun shone on the ice, blinding him, but he gave back a terrible stroke that sheared through his nearest enemy's thigh. With a groan the victim fell and moment later Cloud was dashed into the snow, his left shoulder numb from the blow of the survivor. His armour had saved his life. Cloud saw the remaining giant looming high above him like a colossus carved of ice, silhouetted against the glowing sky. The hammer fell but sunk through nothing but snow and frozen earth as Cloud rolled aside and leaped to his feet. The giant roared and wrenched his hammer free, but even as he did, Cloud's sword sliced down. The giant's knees bent and he sank slowly into the snow, which turned crimson with the blood that gushed from his half-severed neck.

Cloud wheeled, to see the girl standing a short distance away, staring at him in wide-eyed horror, all her smiles lost with no trace. He gestured to the corpses, blood-drops flying from his sword. 'Any more brothers?' he asked, his voice colder than Shiva's gaze.

With a cry of fright she turned and ran, actually ran. Cloud assumed she was finished with floating. She wasn't laughing now, or mocking him over her white shoulder. She ran for her life, and though he strained until his temples were ready to burst and the snow swam red in his vision, she drew away from him and dwindled in the distance, until she was a figure no bigger than a child, then a dancing white flame on the snow, then a dim blur in the distance. He ground his teeth until the blood came from his gums, he reeled on, and he saw the blur grow to a dancing white flame, and the flame to a figure big as a child; and then she was running less than a hundred meters ahead of him, and slowly the space narrowed, foot by foot.

She was running with effort now, her waistlength braid of soft brown hair blowing free; he heard the quick panting of her breath, and saw a flash of fear in the look she cast over her white shoulder. Cloud's endurance served him well. He had saved the world once, afterall. The speed bled from her flashing white legs. She had fanned the flames in his blood and now she was going to burn in them. He closed in on her, eerily silent, just as she wheeled with a haunting cry and flung out her arms to fend him off.

Cloud reached out to her, palms first, the tickle of his Fire materia surging to his fingers. He would melt this ice witch, this sick siren that toyed with his greatest pain. Fire 3 blasted out from him, almost knocking him off his tired legs. He was standing much too close and the concussion set his ears ringing. His eyebrows were badly singed.

When the fire subsided there was nothing left but scorched earth. He had expected to find more. He moved the ash with his boot but he couldn't tell if it was her or just burned ground and she had used some spell to get away.

The wind suddenly whipped up and he raised his arm to his face, finding a pink cloth wrapped neatly around his forearm. He used it to wipe the icicles from his cheeks.

His wounds and exhaustion caught up to him. He took two faultering steps and fell face first into the snow.

In a cold dark universe, with a cold dark sun, Cloud felt the movement of life steal into his body like an alien invader. An earthquake had him in its grip and was shaking him to and fro, at the same time chafing his hands and feet until he growled in pain and groped for his sword.

'He's alive,' said a voice.

'He won't open his left hand,' growled another. 'He's holding something — '

Cloud opened his eyes and stared into scarved, bespectacled faces that bent over him. Two men in warm, black clothes wearing sunglasses against the arctic glare watched him with something approaching, but not quite, sympathy. Turks.

They waited for him to speak, wondering if they should help him up. He didn't speak and he got up under his own power. Reno eyed the wound on his chest, 'Glad to see you're in good shape.'

Cloud stumbled and Rude caught him. The blonde man met Reno's gaze and the Turk glanced away, as if casually. He didn't comment as Cloud shoved some pink cloth into his pocket.

Reno decided to update him. 'We found the bodies a few hours ago and noticed, only slightly disappointedly, you weren't among them. So we thought we'd follow your tracks. Why the hell did you wander off? If a blizzard had come up there'd have been no tracks, Cloud. We'd have never found you. Your only chance of being thawed out would've been in the bellies of a pack of wolves.'

Cloud sighed and tried to stand under his own power. He stood on shaky legs and accepted a large, slightly tattered, winter coat from Rude. He wrapped it around himself and began rubbing at his own midriff, trying to force some warmth into it. He couldn't feel his fingers except as icy sausages poking at his own body. His feet were dead logs of frozen wood.

The Northern horizon groaned like a pack of zombies and Rude squinted at it under his sunglasses. 'Storms comin',' he said.