Final Fantasy VII:

Destiny of the One Winged Angel Chapter: 4 – Risen

Sephiroth awoke somewhat groggily; his night had been plagued with dreams – dreams of his past, dreams of something unexplainable, and dreams of a woman. He sat up and ran his hand through the tangled mass of platinum hair, which framed his face and cascaded down his back. A tired yawn escaped his mouth and he flopped back down among the soft heaven of the bed, which he had been offered from the first day he had arrived here at Icicle Inn.

Laying there, he thought about his trek out of the North Crater, the name of which he had picked up from the locals. It had been a hard journey; he had slept under the stars as soon as night fell, for he had climbed out at noon, and had decided to travel a bit, before stopping to sleep under an overhang of rock. He had walked through the snow, fighting any beast that had threatened his life, regaining long lost battle skills that were still in his system, but not gone. After a few days, he had come across a cave, and had decided to cross it in one go, to decrease the chances of dying in his sleep.

The cave had been a monster haven, and the fighting had kept him awake and alive. He had on many occasions, come so close to death, but his will would not allow it, he had made a personal promise to accomplish this task he had been set, especially if it was so important that he of all people be brought back. He understood who he was, his dreams had revealed that much, sometimes it felt as though someone was purposely revealing this information to him, but he had little time to ponder it, until he had reached the secure walls of a town.

He had crossed the cave, finding himself at the edge of a cliff, which was in the direct path of a snowstorm. Knowing that he would die if he dared to stay here until he had replenished his energy, he decided to scale down the cliff to the base, and walk a bit until he was out of the storm, and it was suitable to rest. The scaling had been slightly treacherous, for many times he had to stop and warm up before continuing, and upon reaching the base he had walked out of the storm, only to find that he was in a snowfield, although not as cold as the cliff, it was hard to tell what lurked in the area. He found a nearby cave and secured the area before settling down to sleep, he would need all the energy he had to get out of the snowfield.

The next day he made a quick meal of roots and berries, and was lucky enough to find a nearby spring just a few metres from where he had slept. He had no idea how long he had been in the snowfield, before he heard the sounds of civilisation, never had a sound been so blessed to his ears, that he had thought it was the wind playing tricks on his tired mind. He had just reached the entrance to the town, spying people playing in the snow, before he collapsed to the ground and fell into deep blackness.

There was a soft knock at his door followed by the sound of his name being gently called, the owner evidently careful of not waking him.

"I'm awake Moira," he said, his tone inviting. He pulled the covers up to his chin, as the door opened to reveal a young woman, barely over twenty-six years, with wavy brown hair reaching just past her shoulders. Her eyes were dark and a soft smile played on her features.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, a question that often passed her lips from the first day he had come. That day he had awoken, drenched in sweat and in a panic, unable to recognise his surroundings, nor how he had come to arrive at this place. It had taken some time to calm him, before he remembered his hard journey from the Crater to the town of Icicle Inn, and realised that this woman had taken him in, a complete stranger.

"I slept fine, thank you," he said, even though he had had those dreams; he did sleep well, for they did little to bother him. Learning that it would have taken about eight days travel on foot from the Crater to the town, and adding that to the amount of time he had spent asleep before waking, he realised that it was his fourteenth day back on Gaia. From that day, he had been doing odd jobs around the town to save up enough Gil to pay his share of living at Moira's home, which she had refused saying that she did not need compensation, for it was a pleasure to help a person in need. Thus he had decided to help with chores instead, and she had conceded after much persuasion, saying that it was because he needed to do some work in order to get his figure back.

"Your breakfast is ready, Gabe," she said walking in and sitting at the edge of his bed. The use of a fake name was necessary, there was no telling how people would react if they knew his name, it was bad enough that he was dressed as he was when they had found him. He noticed her studying his features for a few moments, and realising she had been caught; she turned away, her cheeks tinged with pink. "Uh...you're looking better, I see…I mean your figure, it's getting back," she said, her face becoming red. Sephiroth looked at her and blinked, then let out a soft laugh.

"I have you to thank for that, you've taken good care of me, a total stranger, and I am grateful," he said sitting up and resting against the headboard. Moira looked sheepishly up at him, and giggled, such a sweet sound.

"Anyway, I've got to get back to work, I'll see you around dinner time…and you're welcome, Gabe," she said, patting his thigh in a companionable manner, then stood up and left the room. When the door closed, he let out a sigh, he liked Moira, and yet he had to lie to her, which hurt, but it was necessary, and since he was getting his figure back, he had to think of another way of keeping his true identity a secret. He swung his legs out of the bed and sat there for some time, thinking; sure enough, when he had first arrived here, he had no reason to think of a disguise, since his appearance looked very different to the way he was when he first awoke in the Crater. He had been greatly under nourished and sleep deprived, so there was no reason to question his identity at the time, until now. He stood up, grabbed his towel and headed to the bathroom; this was going to be his last day here.

After washing up and having a shower, Sephiroth had dressed himself in some clothes, which he had bought a few days back with the Gil he had earned. He clad himself in black jeans, a white vest and a brown, waist-length jacket, then proceeded to the kitchen to eat his breakfast and washed the dishes. He sat at the table for some time, thinking of a way to alter his appearance, without changing who he was entirely, the most obvious feature of himself, he supposed, was his long hair, but he was reluctant to do something with it. He had had it for so long, but if it was the only way, then he had no choice but to get rid of it, or change it in some way.

Standing up, he headed to his room, picked up the Masamune, and went out into the backyard of the house. 'If I'm going to do this, then I may as well do it with my own blade,' he knelt down, placing the blade by his side. He gathered his silver mane in one hand, save for the strands that framed his face, took up the Masamune with his free hand and rested the flat of the blade against his neck, the sharp end against the strands of hair. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and in one movement, sliced upwards, feeling the momentary resistance, causing him to let out a small cry. The blade fell from his hands once the task had been complete, the hand holding the strands rose in front of him and he looked at the silver mane, tears pricked his eyes. It would be hard adjusting to this new haircut, but it had to be done, if he wanted to live long enough to do what he had to do, he had to make these kind of sacrifices. Stroking the strands once, he stood and released them into the wind, letting it carry them to whatever destination it had.

He re-entered the house, picking up his Masamune on the way, and propped it against the wall outside his room, as he entered it. He took out a face towel and headed back into the bathroom, placing the towel around his neck and spreading it across his shoulders. Taking out a pair of scissors, he looked in the mirror, surveying the work, and noticed that the hair was a bit long around the ears. He snipped and tidied the cut, trimming the strands to make it neater. He gathered the fresh strands and threw them in the bin, then proceeded to wash his hair and rid it of any extra strands.

He walked back into his room, drying his hair, took out a wallet from a drawer, and checked the contents, finding that he had saved enough to last him to his destination, at which point he would have to take up more jobs. Crossing the room, he knelt at a bag and opened it, finding the clothes he had worn for the most part of his journey neatly folded, and pushed it down a bit, making sure that there was enough room for food supplies. He placed the towel on the heater, and then stepped into the hallway, pulled on his boots, letting the jeans cover them, then stepped outside into the fairly cold weather of Icicle Inn, 'Now to buy some supplies,'

~*~

"Gabe…I'm home," Moira's voice chimed, as she entered the home. A delicious scent wafted from the kitchen, reminding her of how long a day it had been. "Mmm…that smells nice…" she said as she entered the kitchen, her comment trailing off as she caught sight of Sephiroth. "What did you do to your hair?" she said, after a moment of shock.

"Oh, this? Don't you like it?" he asked, "I thought I needed a change in appearance," he finished, a smile breaking onto his face. She was speechless at the sight, she had barely recognised him without his silver mane.

"No, it's good, it suits you very well," she said, taking a seat, as he served the meal of pasta with a meat sauce. He took his own seat after serving his dish, and they ate together.

"How was your day?" he asked, more to prolong the moment he had to tell her of his leaving, than to make simple conversation. She let out a soft moan of delight as she savoured the meal, and swallowed the bite.

"It was good, but busy, you know how it is," she replied, taking another bite, "How was yours?"

"Oh, it was okay, no work, so I took the time to prepare…" he said, trailing off, 'I have to tell her now, so I can leave as soon as possible…' he thought, the idea leaving a weight in his stomach. Her chewing slowed, as her expression changed into one of misunderstanding.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Sephiroth took his time to answer, using the time to think of a way of phrasing what he had to say.

"It's not that I don't appreciate what you've done…" he began, looking at his plate so that he wouldn't have to look into her eyes, "it's just that I have to go…I have to go somewhere…" There was an agonising silence between them, and he looked up at her to see if she was taking this all right; she wasn't even looking at him, but at her plate.

"Oh…well, can I at least come with you to wherever it is you're going?" she asked, looking up at him, her eyes holding the knowledge that she already knew the answer.

"No…" he replied, meeting her gaze, "I have to do this on my own…"

"Oh…okay," she said, her gaze hardening. She stood up and walked briskly to the living room, her mood obviously soured. Sephiroth sighed, fearing that it would come to this, and followed her.

"Look, I'd take you if I could, but I can't-"

"Why not?! Will I be such a burden, or are you going to visit a sweetheart that you never told me about?!" she cried, turning to face him, tears forming in her eyes. He looked at her, something grasping him from inside, and his own gaze hardened.

"Listen…would you like to travel with someone who has committed as many crimes as I have?" he asked, his voice a monotone. Her expression became confused.

"Crimes? What crimes?" she asked.

"I have killed countless people, massacred a whole town, and placed this whole Planet in mortal danger…so tell me would you like to travel with someone such as I?" he asked again, his tone unchanging, but the sorrow and truth were evident in his eyes.

"Gabe…you can't have…" she began, but trailed off.

"Moira…" he began, his expression softening, his tone gentle, "my name isn't Gabe…it's Sephiroth…"

"Sephiroth…?" she echoed, unable to comprehend, "but Sephiroth died five years ago…you can't…be…"

"Oh, but I am…I wanted to tell you in the beginning, but I needed to keep my identity a secret…you see…I was sent back for a reason and I need to discover that reason…that's why you can't come, because I need to do this on my own…" he said. He could see that she was trying to bring her head around all this, and suddenly understanding dawned on her, she believed him about who he was, but was unsure about the purpose. She stepped closer and looked into his eyes, seeing that every word he had spoken was true.

She reached up and placed her hands to the sides of his face, bringing hers closer. He raised his own and placed them over hers, he suspected what came next and closed his eyes, as her lips met his in a gentle kiss. Despite who he was, she had grown to love him in the week they had spent together, one hand trailed down to his neck as the other climbed into his hair. Sephiroth took hold of her hands and pulled them away, and gently pulled his face away. They looked into each others eyes, beseeching each other, "I have to go…" he whispered and released his grip, then turned and left to gather his things. He pulled the bag onto his shoulders and slid the Masamune into its scabbard, which he had moved onto his back. He went to the door and pulled on the boots a second time and left the house, heading to the main entrance to hire a chocobo and make his way to the ruins that were said to lie on the other side of the mountain.

Moira stood in the living room, fresh tears making their way down her cheeks, she had no idea if she would see him again, but until then she would keep his identity a secret.

~*~

He had arrived at the ruins just after sunrise, spending the night riding hard and fast through the snow. He had found a cave and had gone through it, sending the chocobo on its way back to the stables. He had climbed down the crevices, and found himself on a set of spiked stairways, and followed them. He followed the path it led to, and continued going straight, whenever the path seemed to branch. There was a vague notion that he remembered this place and knew he had been here once before, there was something here he needed to find, he knew it.

Soon enough he came to a crossroads; a path similar to the one he was on leading ahead, a longer, straighter path on his right and a shorter path similar to that leading to his left. He closed his eyes momentarily and felt something tug him to his right and followed his instinct. He walked down through the structures of ruins, his breath being taken by the beauty of it, a long lost age, all here, and no archaeologists to dig it up. He passed though a crevice, and found himself looking out onto a large, spiked structure with a wide lake at its base.

The lake shimmered with an otherworldly sparkle, and he knew that the Lifestream was running through this lake as well. He stepped towards it, entranced by its shimmer, he paused at the waters edge, listening, there was a faint sound, a kind of gentle humming, but where from. He tried to think, but the sound filled his ears and took hold of his mind, his legs moved automatically, and he walked into the water until he was waist deep. Standing there, he lifted out his arm, and felt a surge of energy rush through him, he gritted his teeth, this wasn't his doing. Whatever was happening, he was being controlled and he didn't like it, but he couldn't fight the stronger will either.

After a few moments the water around him began to part and something began to rise through the depths. He sucked in a breath as he could make out the appearance of brown hair, which was followed by a face, then shoulders leading to a body, which was dressed in a pink dress and a red jean jacket. His eyes narrowed, the person was a woman, a woman that he had seen before in his dreams. He felt the surge of energy leave him and he almost fell back if he hadn't caught his balance, he saw the body begin to fall and he threw out his arms to catch her.

Sephiroth walked back to the shore, cradling her in his arms, and laid her down. He checked her over, seeing if there was a pulse, there was a faint one and she was breathing lightly. He pushed back the hair that was plastered to her face and sucked in his breath; he was taken aback by her beauty. He didn't know who she was, but he knew he had met her, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something terrible had happened when they had met.