To forgive is not to forget. The merit lies in loving in spite of the vivid knowledge that the one that must be loved is not a friend.

--Mahatma Gandhi

Sephiroth stormed out the forgotten city, making his way up the long stairs and straight towards the exit. There were several times in his life when he'd been as angry as he was now. This instance was nothing special, and, in truth, he really wasn't all that upset. There had been times in his life when he had been even angrier. To the point where he barely remembered what had set him off, where all he saw was red. Though this time would have made a top ten list of situations that thoroughly pissed him off, it was hardly a spectacular display of his rather infamous temper. That dubious honor would always belong to Nibelheim, he thought bitterly. That city was a physical manifestation of his sin and he feared he'd never be able to shake its tattered ghost. It had combined with all the rest of his sins and would follow him always, rattling its chains after him.

With a heavy sigh, he accepted the truth of his situation. He'd never be able to escape from what he'd done. There was a pang of guilt as he strode up the stairs when he heard the girl's sobs behind him. He had pretended not to hear, and hardened his because he knew any concern for her on his part would be lost on the girl. It had become crystal clear that she would not forgive him. His presence was neither needed nor wanted and he was sure she'd be glad to leave his company. Let her find her friends, they could protect her better than he. In the back of his mind he knew that Ifalna had forbade her to see them, and she'd told him that he'd have to stay with the girl, no matter what, but Sephiroth had never been a man who followed rules obediently, and now he was even less inclined than ever to do what heaven willed. This entire mission was a joke. He only hoped the girl came to the same conclusion. Not that he cared what she did; at this point, he'd gladly allow himself to be devoured -- feet first -- by a behemoth as soon as look at her.

His long strides carried him from the underground part of the city quickly. Entering the small foyer that led to the altar beneath him, he heard the rather unwelcome sound of a veritable downpour. Slowly, he approached the door that lead outside and peered out cautiously. His face fell, a look of blank annoyance plastered on his face.

"Fuck," he whispered softly before pulling his hood back over his head and stepping out into the rain soaked night.

The world around him was cloaked in midnight purple, illuminated by bright flashes of lightening as he made his way across the abandoned residential part of the ancient city. The pavement hissed as the rain furiously pelted its worn surface, and the overburdened clouds above showed no signs of slowing its delivery. It soaked through his clothes quicker than he liked and by the time he'd gotten halfway through the city he was soaked to the bone. Now, not only was he angry but also wet and miserable.

In less than twenty minutes he made his way to the large shell that served as the city's northernmost exit. What remained of his anger had driven him thus far and though the rain had cooled his temper somewhat, he was still resolved. He had abandoned this fool's errand as surely as the ancients themselves had abandoned their city. There was only one choice. It was too late for him to go back and beg the powers that be to send him back. So he'd go out into the world, find Strife and let the boy put an end to it.

He prepared to jump to the first spine that served as steps to the gateway. Mid-jump he was surprised by a sudden jolt that threw him backwards and away from the exit. His limp body fell, skidding across the ground before coming to a rest. A moment passed before he pushed himself up on wobbly arms, shaking the cobwebs from his head. He winced as he set his gaze to the gateway. His vision was still blurry from the fall and from the rain and mud that soaked his face and clothes. Wiping the moisture away, he stared at the exit, hoping to glean from it an answer. When nothing was forth coming, he furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"Sonvabitch."

Sephiroth checked himself over for injury and finding none, he approached the gateway once more. This time he was more careful, slowly moving towards it with outstretched hand to check for a barrier. Not surprisingly, his hand came into contact with a solid, invisible wall that had been placed just in front of the gateway. He let loose a stream of curses that would make any sailor blush before calming himself quickly. There had to be a solution for this, some way for him to escape this place. Aggravated, he placed his palm on the wall and concentrated, trying to find a chink in the wall's defense. If he still possessed the power he had before, this barrier would have been nothing to him. Letting out a frustrated grunt, he punched the wall in a display of pointless rage. The spell that sealed the exit reacted negatively, flinging him backwards for the second time. He braced himself against its blow, stumbling backwards a few feet but managing to remain standing. Looking up at the exit barred to him, his eyes blazed with renewed anger. What in the hell was going on?

Furious now, he assailed the wall again and received yet another sharp push back. It didn't faze him in the least, he braced himself and with his uncommon grace he recovered, launching himself at the wall once more. Like an enraged tiger, he paced back and forth. Attacking the walls of his prison, no matter how much damage it caused to himself. He'd been a prisoner all his life and just once he wanted to be free. With each successive hit, the wall's response to him became increasingly more violent. Hurling him farther, and when that alone didn't work, it graduated to sending a mild jolt of electricity through its surface whenever his fist connected. This too proved to be an ineffective deterrent. When Sephiroth was angry there was little that would still his rage, pain especially -- in fact, it seemed the more pain inflicted upon him, the angrier he got. He let loose another series of devastating strikes, which served only to send him flying backwards into a tree.

Sephiroth pulled himself up, weak and shaky due to his fall and the massive electric shock that surged through his body. His knuckles were blackened and blood poured from the cracked flesh openly. The clothes he wore were now completely soaked in rain and mud. His normally brilliant silver hair had turned a dull gray-brown. Tiredly, he wiped at his lip, which had split upon falling from the tree to the ground. Though his eyes lacked their mako glow, they still burned in their sockets. Their attention was drawn solely to the barrier, and with a snarl, he narrowed those eyes and prepared to attack again. A sudden ripple in the back of his mind drew his attention away from the barrier. He felt a presence entering his mind and froze on the spot. Fear was an emotion he'd long ago banished, but that wriggle in the back of his mind, it brought him to as close to real terror as he had in ages.

"Jenova," he whispered, his eyes wide and staring in the oppressive dark. He waited to feel her cold, vice like grip take him. His entire body shaking as he anticipated the tortures she'd put him under for his traitorous disobedience. What do you want, witch? he thought tersely, irritated that she hadn't revealed herself. Whatever it was, he would fight harder this time. He wouldn't let her win; let the bitch kill him if she wanted, though deep down, he was terrified. He was weak; he knew this and a part of him also acknowledged that he could never really escape what She'd done to him. Couldn't deny the fact that there was a part of him longed for the simplicity She offered. And right now, the pleasant oblivion She would give him sounded tempting. No. He shook his head; as hard as life would be for him, he'd die a man. He'd die as himself, not as the monster Jenova and Hojo worked so hard to create.

The presence he felt danced forward, it was warm and inexplicably he felt his fear abate. His heart leapt; perplexed by the sensation that was unlike anything he'd felt before. Instead of the desiccated voice of Jenova, what came was a deep, genderless hum. Calmed by the soft humming, he felt himself relax as the hum formed into clear musical tones -- instruments and voices combined to form an enchanted melody that was familiar yet strange to him. The rhythmic cadence of the voices soothed him with this song. In the middle of the rain soaked field, near the exit to the city, Sephiroth stood in a trancelike state. His eyes closed, and his whole body relaxed. He tried to resist, convinced it was just another of Her tricks. But the more he resisted it, the more at ease the song made him feel. He tried very hard to summon a wave of fury that would make those imprecise and unforgivably foreign emotions flee. Happiness, peace... All so strange to him, they had been unattainable in his former life and for that reason he had loathed and envied those who could feel them. Now that he could feel them, he knew what he had been missing and it made his pain that much more acute. He wanted nothing more than to banish them, because they reminded him of his abnormality and because he was afraid that he'd never feel them again. It was all to no avail. The warmth of the voices overwhelmed him and he was enveloped by the brightness of their light. He surrendered himself.

Lazily, he blinked and opened his eyes into a white washed world he barely recognized. His overtired eyes slowly recognized the forest he'd been in before. That odd path he'd taken to in vain hope of finding redemption. He felt weightless, hovering above the forest he'd wandered for three years. Long tendrils of silver hair undulated in front of his vision. He lifted a hand to brush it away, entranced as he watched a figure appear from the light. In form and shape, it appeared to be his mother but there was a difference.

Sephiroth had never been one to warm up to people. Ifalna and his mother, Lucrecia had been exceptions. Ifalna he'd accepted for her natural charm and openness. She was strong and strength was something he could respect. Lucrecia he'd accepted partially because of her biological tie to him. But he did admit to enjoying her company more than the Cetra. She was reserved and quiet, and not as gregariously optimistic as Ifalna was. Lucrecia had uncannily understood him and how he felt which he guessed was no surprise, she was his mother and she had spent her afterlife looking after him, even if he'd never known it. In many ways, they were alike. Shy, introspective and preferring their own company to that of others. Being alone had suited both mother and son quite well.

In the last three years, he'd spent much time with his mother and though he wasn't the most emotionally perceptive of people, he'd come to know the woman quite well. There had always been a nervous edge to Lucrecia, born of a lack of social skills and self esteem. The woman that approached him had no hesitation in her step and her eyes gleamed with strength. If it had been Ifalna, he'd not have been disturbed or surprised. Confidence of that kind, however, was a rarely seen in the mournful eyes of his mother.

"Mother?" he questioned, unsure as to why he was suddenly so uneasy.

"Yes and no," the apparition replied. "I was borrowed for the benefit of one who cannot speak for itself -- at least, not to you, not yet." The woman who was and was not his mother paused, a subtle change overcoming her, as if she was channeling another force. "We took this as our vessel because it seemed to bring you comfort. If it displeases you, we can assume another."

"No... what... Who are you?"

"We are that which is most concealed. Eternal, ancient and born of the stars; we are the middle ground between heaven and hell. We are that which you fought so hard to are what you and the lady summoner now should be fighting to save."

"The planet?" he murmured, his eyes narrowing with befuddlement. "I'm not Cetra. I shouldn't be able to speak with you at all..."

Lucrecia smiled, interrupting him. "Always questioning." She laughed then and it sounded like the tinkling of a thousand tiny bells. "No, this one is not Cetra. You are more human than you have ever been before. We have removed that which tainted you as best we could. And we have given you enough of the essence of the first ones so that speaking to you is made somewhat easier, though your connection is frightfully weak. This is why we must create an avatar to speak with you."

"Why would you want to speak with me?"

"Because this one wishes to abandon his purpose before it has been fulfilled, it cannot be allowed."

Sephiroth was annoyed now and asked, a bit too sarcastically: "And what purpose would that be?"

"This one must guide the lady summoner and see that she comes to no harm."

"This one -- why do you keep calling me that? I have a name..."

"Yes, and this one has a title as well but until you accept the purpose given you, we may not name you. This one still carries the lady summoner's gift. Why has this one not given it to her?" The planet through Lucrecia stopped speaking, regarding the former general with a gentle but appraising gaze. "This one thinks the lady summoner will not accept him. This one seeks death rather than travel the long and winding road to salvation. You are, of course, wrong."

"I'm not... I have no right. She'd been better off with anyone else..."

"Ridiculous. There is no one more qualified than this one," Lucrecia replied. "The lady summoner holds great power, having claimed what you once sought. It is so great that she cannot bear it on her own. We think this is why this one was chosen to be her guardian."

He snorted. "Because I'm strong?"

"No, it is because you are weak that you have been chosen. You understand the inherent danger of having so much power, having succumbed to it yourself."

"What do you mean by that?" he queried, astounded at the implications in the planet's undulating tones. "You mean. Could she?"

"Tear this world apart. Yes, you need only look at the storm she created to realize this." The planet's avatar looked at him pointedly then, speaking to him more directly, more firmly than it had before. "This is why your role as guardian is so important. Why you will not be allowed to leave. You are her knight and as such, it is your duty to help her shoulder this burden and keep it from corrupting her."

His expression hardened. "Help her? She won't accept my help. You know it and I know it. I can't do this..."

"But you haven't even begun. There are those who pray for your failure... who actively work for it. Accept you role now or let the lady summoner die and take all existence with her."

He hung his head despondently; wishing whole-heartedly that the planet would just admit defeat. He couldn't do this; the task set ahead for him was too difficult. This task was beyond his skill. What dangers lay ahead, he could face, but to try and soldier the will to help a victim of his hate -- to have to look the girl in the eyes and see her loathing. It was too much. And he'd never admit it, but he was disappointed to think that she would reject him. Disappointed but not surprised. So foolish, he thought with quiet acrimony. Useless... Why did everyone try so hard to save him? The planet's avatar came to him then, placing her hand on his cheek and gently tilting his head so that she could look into his eyes.

"Because we know you are worth saving. You are as much our child as the lady summoner is, and are just as important to us as she. We love all our children, even when they make mistakes."

"It won't matter..."

"Nonsense, you are a part of us and we are a part of you. Fate chose you as Lady Aeris's only guardian. You are as stubborn as she. Have more faith, Sephiroth." The avatar smiled then, a mysterious and rather unnerving gesture on a face that was normally open and without guile. "We name you Din, the ineffable. Go, protect the last High Summoner and let our blessings go with thee." She blinked and when her eyes met his again, the planet's presence was gone, leaving only his mother behind. "Good luck, my son...." she said as his vision faded away.

The warm presence of the planet receded and the world intruded on him once more, cooling the fleetingly blissful aftereffects of his conversation with the planet. Moments ago he'd wished for hell and now in a stunning turnaround, he wished to go back to the small bit of paradise he felt within the planet's song -- would that fate would be so kind.

This is madness, he thought, annoyed with the planet for having such high hopes and even more annoyed with himself, because he was going to do as it asked.

With a sigh, he turned his sightless gaze to the sky and let the rain pelt his upturned face. He stood there for quite some time; a completely silent, motionless figure that basked in the rain. It washed away the mud that had caked his face and hair -- and though it wasn't entirely gone, he was at least somewhat cleaner. The same could be said of his doubts. Somewhat washed away but still there. He made a promise to the sky. The girl would come to no harm as long as he still lived. If nothing else, he was useful for his physical strength and he would use it to protect her. He would be her guardian, no more, no less. His eyes opened just barely enough to see the smallest hint of jade beneath his lashes, opening wider as he tilted his head down. Through the broken haze of pounding rain, he left the gateway and strolled back into the city like a man who hadn't a care in the world.

He walked more slowly this time, setting a leisurely pace with intent that belied its purpose. His strides were smooth, unconcerned but they were forced. He was trying very hard to conceal how much pain he was in. For his own reasons, he didn't want the girl to know how changed he truly was. The last thing he needed was her gloating over his new humanity, his weakness. It was bad enough that his entire body ached as a result of his foolish attack on the barrier. He certainly didn't need to add her already aggravating derision added to it, though he was glad that Jenova's taint had been mostly removed from him. The slowness of his recovery and his physical exhaustion was rather disruptive but it was better than being a puppet to a demonic slave master.

This gave him new insight on humanity in general and he wondered how they did it. Being so fragile, so easily hurt. And they fought him like this? Lifting a hand to gaze at it, he was fascinated by the fact that it hadn't healed yet. How long would it take before it did? Would it hurt the entire time? Had Jenova still tainted him, the wound would have already knitted together. He wondered if he'd get any scars. Such random thoughts popped into his head as he pondered the quirks of humanity while he walked. The rain had been forgotten as he walked past the entrance to the chamber that held the ancient machine. He'd never been in the chamber itself, but he had known of it, having explored the city completely the last time he was alive.

Sound erupted suddenly and Sephiroth froze, his attention wavering from his hand to the chamber. He cocked his head and listened more closely to the raucous sound coming from the chamber. Voices, he could clearly hear voices. Curious, he drew closer, entering as quietly as he could, though it was difficult for him to manage his normal velvet silence when he hurt as much as he did. Not that the only other occupant of the machine's chamber would notice. The girl lacked anything resembling basic survival skills, most notably her apparent obliviousness to that which surrounded her.

He took a position behind a pillar, his gaze flickering to the large crystalline machine that was the focal point of the room. Slight movement in the chamber caught his eye. It was the girl and the look on her face was that of tearful anger. He realized it must have been her he heard. Though he wondered who or what she could have been yelling at in his absence. She approached the machine and with a flippant gesture of her hand it activated. Stepping back, she waited though her impatience was obvious. After ten full minutes, when the thing didn't do as she wanted, she began to berate it in a language Sephiroth didn't understand.

The machine whirred suddenly and an unearthly glow began to emanate from it. Her words caught in her throat and for a moment she seemed transfixed by the machine's smoothly churning gears. From this faded blue light stepped the ghostly image of her mother. Ifalna looked the same, almost exactly as he'd last seen her. He was tempted to stride down there right then and greet her, but he resisted the urge. Something important was happening.

What began was a rather long argument between the two women. Both speaking rapidly in the same strange language, and in various points in the conversation he could clearly hear his own name. He perked up and his annoyance was renewed as he wished he could understand what she said. Most obviously it was about him being her guardian but from there was anyone's guess. So he had to be content to just sit and wait. The argument was hard to watch, mostly because he was unable to follow the flow of the conversation. His name was mentioned several more times. Mostly by Aeris, and mostly -- he guessed -- in a negative light. He couldn't be sure, but Ifalna seemed to be defending him. Whenever she'd mention his name with that spiteful tone of hers, Ifalna would counter in an equally serene voice. Yawning, he decided there was no harm in him sitting down and resting for a moment. Whatever was going on between mother and daughter looked like it was going to take a long time... and he was tired. Sitting cross-legged, he closed his eyes and began to meditate.

Aeris had never been angrier in her life. After Sephiroth had left she had cried for a good twenty minutes, until she was too weary to continue. She found it hard to pinpoint why crying at that moment seemed the right thing to do or why she felt she needed to do it. Her emotions were confused and wavered between the hate she found hard to let go and the stupid sympathy she felt for her murderer. It was obvious to her that in some way he was sincere, she'd have to be blind not to see it. Underneath the bitterness of his words, she had felt real sorrow in them and an almost fruitless desire for forgiveness. Worst of all was the brief flicker of hope that shone in his eyes ...had she killed that in him? Did it matter? She tried to tell herself desperately that it didn't but it did.

That is what made everything so much harder. It was in the Cetran character to be forgiving and by their very nature they were compassionate. Aeris was only half Cetra and while a part of her wanted to forgive Sephiroth, her human heart could not let go of her hate. He had wronged her, and she wanted to punish him. But this simple desire now warred with her instinct to build bridges rather than burn them.

So now the waters were muddied and Aeris had no idea how to move forward. With a shaky sigh she wiped the tears from her face, pouting as she stared into space weighing her options. She couldn't just forgive him because that'd let him off easy. He deserved to squirm, to feel uncomfortable, especially if he was as sorry as he said he was. She paused then, kicking herself for even entertaining such ridiculous thoughts. Since when did it matter to her what he thought or for that matter, what he said? Who cared? And could she even trust his word or his actions? No! She was not naive OR stupid. She couldn't trust him as far as she could throw him. He was a liar and a manipulative bastard who painted pretense after pretense, it made for a pretty little picture but it was no closer to reality than a real painting was; just colored lines and shapes in the form of reality but not reality itself.

What an actor he was, mimicking so well the mannerisms and attitude of the penitent man but it was a facade. A farce. Meant to lull her into complacency, to feel sorry for him and when she let her guard down he'd pounce on her back like a wild tiger. The rotten bastard. She seethed and that fury she nearly let go of returned with a vengeance. And a voice that got smaller as her hate spread cried out to her. It begged her to listen, telling her that she was wrong. With a violent slash of her will, she quieted the calm that tried to claim her and let the storm run its fierce course, ravaging her heart as it did the planet's surface.

Her eyes snapped open and she hit the floor with both fists. This whole thing was one big load of crap. She'd had enough. First, she'd find out exactly what had happened. Why that bastard had been allowed to manipulate the planet's will. Second, once she found out why, she'd make them send him back. And if they couldn't do that, then she'd call an end to this entire fiasco. She couldn't -- NO -- she would NOT work with him.

Determined now, she pushed herself off the floor with eyes flashing. Whatever weariness that was in her fled and as she dusted herself off, the flames of her righteous anger burned that much hotter. She stalked out of the altar and into the main part of the city. Everything was a blur; she barely remembered ascending the stairs, much less exiting into the above ground portions of the capital. She hadn't even noticed the rain as she walked. None of it mattered. Her only concern was obliterating the object of her hate and she wouldn't let anything stand in her way.

She barely blinked as rain ran down her face, creating tiny rivers that mirrored the trail of her tears. Her hair was so wet that it was plastered to her skull, long bangs flattening alongside her face. A few limp tendrils fell wetly over her eyes and with a grunt she pushed them back. By the time she reached the ancient machine, she was completely soaked, looking very much like a cat that had been dunked in a bathtub. Finally noticing the rain and how cold she was, she let out a stream of vile curses -- most of which she'd learned from Cid.

She looked around the room, gaze lingering on the walls and the high ceiling. Momentarily she was impressed into silence. This place held the aura of ancient wisdom, far beyond her knowledge... If she stayed long enough and with enough patience, there were secrets here for her to find -- things that could very well save this planet, perhaps an answer to where her people came from originally or maybe the source of the gathering darkness. She shivered, replaying the planet's warning to her in her mind's eye. Yes, darkness and death loomed, she could feel it now, her bones ached with it and that tiny voice inside her warned her. You could become a tool of that darkness... let this unreasonable hate go... Aeris shook her head, not letting that voice get its last little jibe in. She was right about this, damn it. She was right.

Her gaze shifted to the stone in the center of the chamber. Humans had called it the ancient machine, a rather unimaginative name that conveyed its purpose without its mystery. In truth, it wasn't a machine at all. She had no knowledge of where her ancestors had found it but she knew its name. It was a stone that had long been prized by the ancients, most simply referred to as moonstone but this particular stone had been named Othila -- after the rune of the same name. The stone itself was large and quite clear, with only small stripes of opaque white running through it. The surface had an ethereal blue sheen to it that made it look as if the moon continually shone on it.

During the days when this city was occupied, Othila had been used as an oracle. It was consulted when no other avenue was open, when the entirety of the ancient's vast knowledge was unable to help. This very same stone had been petitioned to during the dark days of Jenova's betrayal. It hadn't done much good then. She could only hope it would do better now.


In consulting Othila, you called the spirits of the honored dead forth from the afterlife. And it was for this reason Aeris entered the ancient chamber. With a swipe of her hand, she telepathically called forth the spirit of her mother. Nothing happened. She stood back and waited and waited and waited and waited. She stood there some more. Still nothing happened. She stood there, her fists clenching in frustration and still nothing. She couldn't stand here any longer. With an exasperated cry, she cursed, so angry that when she spoke she slipped into her mother tongue. A habit that often happened to her when she lost her temper, something she'd tried to conceal when she was in Avalanche. Something she wasn't afraid to hide now.

In Cetran, she shouted, sure that her mother could hear and for reasons unknown, refused to answer her. "MOM! MOM! I KNOW YOU'RE HERE! MO--"

The stone whirred to life, the gears around it churned and from the opalescent depth of the machine a light poured forth. Her mother stepped out of the light as graceful and beautiful as ever, emerging like a visiting queen. With a kind but concerned smile, she regarded her daughter, her head cocked to one side. "Aeris, what's wrong?"

"You know very well what's wrong!"

Ifalna bowed her head, unsurprised at her daughter's anger. She knew why the girl was so angry and accepted it. "I'm sorry that I didn't tell--"

Aeris didn't want excuses; she didn't care what the reasons were. "YOU KNEW!! You knew and you didn't tell me?!" Her voice cracked as she said it, tears flowing not far after. "I don't understand! How could you do this to me?" The torrent of emotion overwhelmed her and with her last words she pounded her chest for affect. To show her mother how this secret had been like a stab to her heart.

This accusation insulted the older woman. She felt bad that her daughter suffered but what had passed was not her fault. Ifalna refused to take the blame for a choice that was not her own and with careful regality, she answered back: "I have done nothing."

"You lied to me, twice. Sephiroth is my guardian. And what? You just forgot to mention it? You didn't feel it was important?! Explain it to me like I was a five year old, because I fail to understand how you could leave a little detail like that out but if I had known..."

"....You wouldn't have agreed, I know. But this was not entirely my choice. I took upon myself the duty to bear your cause -- to carry out the final will of your prayer and I have fulfilled my duty to the letter and by accepting it, I was bound by ancient celestial law not to reveal his identity."

"Don't put this on me! I didn't pray for this and just because you took on some duty it doesn't mean you have to follow it so blindly!"

Ifalna looked deeply into her daughter's eyes and was disgusted at what she saw. Shaking her head, she spoke quietly but with a commanding voice that brooked no trespass. "These rules have been in place since the beginning of time. Who am I to disobey them? Fact is, they were put in place for a reason."

"Wow, that's some genius logic going on right there. So, enlighten me. What possible reason could they have for handing me over to my murderer?"

"Well, considering that this mission concerns the end of all existence, I think choosing the person who came closest to doing exactly that would be a perfect choice to help stop it, don't you?"

"Oh, that is just rich. I can't believe this bull--"

"You watch your tone, young lady. Whether you like it or not, this is how things are."

"NO!" Aeris covered her ears and shouted angrily: "I DON'T CARE! I WON'T DO THIS! SEND ME BACK! I'D RATHER BE DEAD THAN WORK WITH HIM! I--"

"So, you'll punish all existence for your petty grudge?!"

Aeris drew her hands from her ears, eyes flaring with incredulity. "PETTY!? IT'S HARDLY PETTY! HE TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!!"

"And you, in turn, will take the world from everyone because you are too weak and selfish to let go of your hate." This quieted the girl and she looked up at her mother through red-rimmed eyes, full of shame and lingering anger.

"It's still... it's not fair... I... How could this happen? Why did you choose him?"

"I didn't choose him. Neither did the planet nor the powers that be." Ifalna paused, noting her daughter's confusion. "Long before your birth, the heavens chose for you a champion: A knight to guard you in your duty but fate denied you this first choice. Celestial laws dictate that in the event that the one chosen by heaven cannot fulfill his duty another is to be assigned. Normally, if this were before you came into your power... this choice would be made again by the heavens. But this was not the case."

"What... what do you mean?"

"You accepted your bond with Cloud, you awoke your power the minute his hand touched yours. When you passed, your bond with him was severed but your power remained. Once you accepted it, you took the power out of heaven's hands and into your own. Therefore, the choice of a new guardian falls to you."

"No..."

"Yes," Ifalna replied simply. With a curt gesture of her hand she summoned an image that played upon the shimmering light given off of the moonstone.

Aeris could see herself as she wandered through that dry plain she'd ventured into when she was still in the Promised Land. She saw herself approaching the shifting barrier that had held her hated enemy. Watched as her hand touched the surface and it revealed the hidden scourge behind it. Shaking her head, she blinked away her tears. What was this? This meant nothing. She had only been wandering and had accidentally stumbled upon him. There was no indication of her choosing him in the least... Couldn't they see that?

"No, I didn't choose him," Aeris said, her voice trembling as more tears poured down her cheeks. "That was an accident. A horrible, stupid accident... but I didn't choose him... I didn't..."

"In the Promised Land, you were a wandering spirit and therefore unable to travel between realms. You remember?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"So how was it that you found Sephiroth? He was in Purgatory -- a place you shouldn't have been able to enter."

"No, that's not... I didn't travel anywhere else. I was in the Promised Land the whole time..."

"No, you most certainly were not. Do you really think that Sephiroth would be allowed into the Promised Land? He might have been given a second chance but the heavens aren't that forgiving."

"I don't understand..."

"It's simple. You not only found Purgatory's border but you crossed it. You took Charon's ferry and entered the realm of temporal penitence. And what's even more impossible: Of all the souls in that realm, you found Sephiroth's and by your own hand, you released him. So tell me -- Whose fault is it now?"

Aeris could do nothing but gape at her mother in complete and utter silence. With another gesture she summoned a vision of the cherry orchard. She watched as the vision version of herself intertwined hands with her guardian. Showing clearly how easily she chose her own path and her unquestioning approval of her guardian. She had found him. She had released him. And she had accepted him; knowingly or unknowingly.

Quietly, Ifalna spoke: "You have no one to blame but yourself. You chose him."

Aeris backed away, trembling as she shook her head in denial. "No... No, I didn't. He could have manipulated me... some kind of mind control when I met him there...I..."

The older woman clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Pardon the language, but that is a load of bullshit. A soul imprisoned in Purgatory has even less power than a wandering spirit, you should know that."

"His soul isn't ordinary, though. He could have--"

"Oh, Honestly! Why do you persist in this... foolishness?" Ifalna asked with an exasperated sigh, torn between wanting to hold her daughter or slap her silly. "You chose him. There is NO denying it."

"Don't... Don't say that," Aeris hissed in a dangerous whisper.

"But it's the truth."

"No!" She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to believe her mother's words, but that damned voice in the back of her head just wouldn't shut up. You chose him... and no matter how hard she tried, that voice would not quiet. Not this time.

"Yes. I'm not sure why you chose him or even how, but you did. I don't understand it anymore than you do. Perhaps, if you search your feelings, you must have felt something for--"

"SHUT UP! I could NEVER feel anything for him! He's a monster and I wished he stayed dead! I'd kill him myself if I thought I could! I hate him! I HATE HIM AND I WISH..."

Ifalna let her hand fly out and slapped her daughter full in the face, closing her eyes as her hand connected with her cheek. Ifalna had been taken aback by the look of twisted hate on her daughter's face. It was frightening to see how close the girl was to losing all control. For a moment the entire room was deathly quiet, except for the reverberating echo of the slap. Aeris looked at her mother with dull surprise, holding her cheek with one hand. Ifalna's eyes slowly opened and with them came a tidal wave of tears. She hated having to do that, and her heart broke to know that it was the only way to save her daughter. But it had to be done.

"I never thought I'd see the day when my own daughter would embrace hate so willingly... I may be dead, unable to be as close to you as I'd like, but I am still your mother. I didn't raise you this way and neither did Elmyra." Her words were measured, said in such a quiet voice that Aeris could barely hear them. "Do you see, Aeris, what you're becoming? How far will you take this? What will you destroy in pursuit of your vengeance? You have to let it go."

Aeris could barely look her mother in the eye. The truth stung, especially since it was a truth she desperately didn't want to admit. For her own sanity's sake she couldn't believe she'd chosen that monster but the evidence was all too plain. Her face crumpled and for the hundredth time that night she cried, falling to the floor in a trembling heap.

Ifalna closed her eyes and knelt down, tilting her head as she gazed at her daughter. She smoothed the girl's hair tenderly. Aeris looked up, her eyes puffy and swollen from crying, seeing the unconditional love in her mother's eyes. With a sob, she threw herself into Ifalna's arms and wept. She had been so afraid, felt so alone and lost. For a brief moment she remembered that when she woke the world wasn't so cold. That same world now seemed devoid of comfort, harsh and cruel and just plain wrong. If this was the way it had to be, how in the world could she go on? Without her friends... traveling with her enemy, who she barely trusted, sent on a mission to save the planet, again, and with an apparent new evil waking that probably wanted her dead. It would never work.

"I-I... I c-can't do this, Mama. I ca-c-can't..." Her voice hitched as she tried to wipe the moisture from her face. "H-hu-he took evah-ev-everything from me! I don't care if I chose him -- I can't, please..." And as she breathlessly whispered the last words out, she burst into another round of fresh sobs.

"I'm sorry, munkin, but what's done cannot be undone. This task has been appointed to you and if you don't find a way then everything your friends fought so hard for is lost."

"But I can't. Not with him. Please, just take it away. It's too big... I can't..."

"Can't? There's no such thing as 'can't'. You're not just fighting for this planet. You're fighting for all existence as we know it. I won't deny that it's asking too much of you, but it doesn't change anything. You are the only one who can do this. So, ask yourself, is your temporary discomfort worth the lives of future generations?"

"It's more than just discomfort! How am I going to work with him? He scares the shit out of me! This isn't going to work!"

"True, this match isn't perfect. But he is trying. I was doubtful at first, but... he surprised me and if you give him a chance, he will make a fine guardian."

Laying her head against her mother's shoulder, Aeris sighed; too tired to keep crying -- too exhausted to object any more. They talked more. About her power and how with it came responsibility. She was now connected more intimately with the planet than she'd been before -- as the first and last High Summoner in generations, she would need an extra punch to help complete her mission, though how she was to do this was still unknown to her. Ifalna indicated that she'd soon receive a vision that would direct her; show her what she had to do. Until then, she was to learn about her power and control it.

Hours passed as she relaxed in her mother's arms and every moment counted towards Ifalna's departure. Aeris enjoyed it while she could, it would more than likely be the last time she'd be content for a long time. The bright light of the moonstone soon waned and Aeris knew her time was short.

"So, what will you do?" her mother asked.

"What I have to."

"So, then, you accept everything now? Even him?"

"Yes."

Ifalna smiled at the resolute look on her daughter's face and the determination in her heart. Gone was the anger and though quiet despair replaced it, Ifalna hoped that through the journey this would change. She stood as the light from the stone flickered, her form quickly become more and more transparent. Aeris held back her tears, she'd cried too much today. She wanted to be strong for her mother now. To let her know she could do this. With a smile, she embraced her mother tightly as she faded into nothingness, slumping slightly forward as Ifalna's apparition disappeared, melding into formless mist. Holding the air, she wrapped her arms around herself, stifling a cry. Tears were useless. For long moments she sat there as the sun just crested the horizon, signaling the start of a new day, a new life and an end to the restless night.

Aeris opened her eyes almost sorry that she was alive but for the fact that all existence now depended on her. Duty, she had a duty and it would have to hold her. Stiffly, she stood and stretched the night's exhaustion out. She had to find Sephiroth; finally accepting that her hate only brought more pain and striving to put aside all differences for the common good. It was hard and it would take time, but she'd work with it. Or at least try. With little effort, she called to the planet to help her in her task, glad that at least one old friend was still with her.

She walked despondently out of the chamber, unsure how she'd pull it all together, if she could pull it together at all. Aeris let out a long, tired sigh and trudged onward, deep in thought. She quickly collided with a solid form, cloaked in shadow and directly in front of her. The terrified shriek she let out was beyond her control and she couldn't help but be annoyed and embarrassed by it. The man who was the cause of it seemed unruffled. In fact, he seemed calm -- too calm, almost irritatingly so. It was, of course, Sephiroth who stood in the dark in her way and she wondered if he'd done it on purpose. Why else would someone stand around in the dark like that, all quiet and broody, only to jump out and give an innocent girl a heart attack? Did he work hard on being that intimidating or was it just natural? By the slight smirk on his face, she realized it was purposeful and she scowled. Tilting her head up with an air of defiance, she primly straightened her dress before stepping away from him. She realized she probably looked like crap and the maneuver was entirely purposeless but it relaxed her. Crossing her arms, she looked him straight in the eye.

"So," she began, quite proud of how firm and unafraid she sounded.

"So," he repeated, his smile fading as if it had never been there in the first place.

There was a moment of tense silence where all they did was stare at each other. Letting out a short breath and scratching her head, she tried to think of how to begin. What should she say and how much should she tell him? She thought of a million prefaces in a matter of minutes -- each stupider than the last. Giving up, she decided not to explain anything at all.

"Give me your hand," she blurted out in the bluntest way possible.

He arched an eyebrow, though the rest of his face remained coldly detached. "Why?"

Aeris had never heard one word said with such blatant scorn. Without a word, Aeris unwound his rosary from her wrist and clasped them in her hand. She held it up and dropped them in dramatic fashion, the string unfurling from her opened hand and dangling from her fingers, clacking together ever so slightly in the quiet hall. He looked from them to her and back again. Not a muscle moved. His expression remained blank and for a minute Aeris was unsure if he understood her gesture. Lowering his eyes, he held out his left hand reluctantly. A small cough brought his gaze back to hers.

"What?"

"That's, um, the wrong hand. I need your right..."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because it's tradition."

He continued to glare at her sourly, folding his arms over his chest to mirror her previous stance. As if somehow he could bar her out by holding such a defensive position. He wasn't going to budge.

"Just give me your hand."

"No."

"What? Why?!"

"Because you forgot the magic word."

She rolled her eyes. "All right. Fine. Please, give me your right hand..."

"You still haven't told me why it matters."

"Why does it matter why it matters?"

"It matters because I'm curious and I'd like to know -- additionally, you seem hell bent on not telling me and I can't help but wonder why."

"I already told you! It's tradition!"

"Tradition I'm unfamiliar with."

"Why are you being so difficult about this?"

"Why are you?" Her petulant silence spoke much louder than words. "Is a simple explanation really so out of order?"

She looked away, huffing in nervous frustration. "We're supposed to wear the beads on our right hand because according to ancient belief it's the sign of good fortune and it marks us as servants of heaven; plus it completes the stupid ritual which we have to do before we can go on with anything else. Satisfied?"

He paused momentarily, wiping his hand on the interior of his cloak. After a fascinating few seconds of this, he grudgingly extended his right hand and moved closer to her. It took every ounce of will power in her not to move back and instead close the gap between them. Sucking in a short breath, she gingerly took his hand, focusing on it rather than the rest of him. The dark black number one tattooed on the back of it stood out against his pale skin. He was ashamed of it no doubt. Who wouldn't be? It marked him as property -- as an experiment.

Just then, something else caught her eye and she curled her fingers more tightly around his, yanking him forward to examine it better. Blood -- a small trickle of blood came from wounds of different sizes on his knuckles like he'd been punching a wall repeatedly. Lightly, she touched them with an outstretched finger. Her eyes met with his and she noticed that he hadn't even flinched, as if he didn't even feel pain.

"You're hurt," she remarked softly.

Looking away, he shrugged noncommittally. "Are you going to put those things on or not?"

Careful not to drag the beads over his open wounds, she wrapped them around his wrist. Biting her lip, she still clasped his hand in hers and stared at it. A war waged within, she'd never liked seeing someone in pain, even a monster like him, and though he didn't seem to be suffering, they were still wounds and wounds could get infected. But... she began to argue with herself but the thought fell flat. But nothing -- wound was a wound no matter who it was on and she was, after all, a healer. For her own sake and for the promise she'd made to her mother, she'd try to forgive him.

Who knows? This might be the first step, she thought, the first hopeful thing that had passed through her mind all day.

Quickly, she closed her eyes and prayed to the planet, surprised by the speed with which it answered her. The planet seemed to laugh at her or maybe it was with her, in any event, it seemed too happy and gladly gave her as much of its own resources that it could. A bright blue light gathered in her palm, and with just a small push it drifted to his hand. Small orbs of light danced around his wounds like twinkling stars, knitting his flesh back together.

He stared at her with undisguised awe. Her eyes were still closed and the bluish light of the spell had yet to disperse, a slight breeze ruffled her hair and she smiled slightly as her eyes opened. Bright emerald peeked out underneath her dark lashes and as they opened wider, he could see the life in them. Upon helping someone they gained a richness they lacked before, but once they fixed on him that life seemed to seep out of them. Despite this, her smile remained but it was forced. Roughly, he snatched his hand back, secreting any hurt he felt behind the same imperious mask he'd always hid behind. Perhaps he should have thanked her, it was the proper thing to do but words seemed particularly useless to him right now.

Another long moment of uncomfortable silence passed before she was able to even look at him. It was odd but her heart was beating so fast. His hands were callused, probably from all the sword practice. Cloud's hands weren't as callused but he'd always worn gloves. Maybe Sephiroth didn't always wear his all the time, but it doesn't make sense because his nails were so neat. Maybe he just clips them short to keep them from breaking... ormaybe he bites his nails. Aeris shook her head. Why was she focusing on such minutia?

There was a strange feeling in the air and both could feel the energy building between them. Another knot in the spiraling energy that connected them wove together, knitting their bond to each other together more tightly than it had been before. They both shuddered, looking up simultaneously, their eyes meeting. She wondered and felt insane for doing so, but she wondered if his heart was beating as fast. Goosebumps stood out on her arm and she rubbed them away before lifting it tentatively. It had been hard enough to put those beads on him. She'd been dreading this part of it and with little effort she convinced herself that this was why her heart fluttered so quickly, though she was surprised that her hand didn't shake at all as she held it aloft.

Tensing, she felt his fingers as they curled around her own, taking her hand in his. She chewed on her lip and closed her eyes, to block out all feeling. It didn't do much of anything and served to only heighten the experience. Without benefit of sight, all she could do was feel. The beads clacked as he wound them around her wrist. He managed not to touch her for the most part but for the occasional slip of a finger. When this happened there was a pleasant tingle as his finger brushed against her wrist. She was surprised at his gentleness, yet again. The way he put them on was careful, almost tender, as if he was afraid she'd break. In fact, he was so gentle that she'd failed to notice that he'd finished and was no longer holding her hand. Her eyes opened wide and she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. How long she'd stood there with her hand held out like an idiot? A small cough startled her and she noticed the slight look of bemused glee on his face. She quickly lowered her arm, blushing fiercely.

"Well, then," she mumbled, trailing off as she rubbed the beads on the rosary back and forth; nervous beyond words.

He stared at her for a beat, his face draining of any emotion before turning and leaving. She wondered briefly what he was thinking. How he could go from showing a tiny spark of emotion to nothing at all? She had tried to read him, to get a sense of his emotional state but his walls were too high, but he kept her out just as he had in the lifestream. Only here, he wasn't so vulnerable and whatever pleasant dance they'd enjoyed non-corporeally was long over. This was going to be hard. She steeled herself, knowing that this was likely to be the most miserable time she'd ever had. When she didn't immediately follow him, he called back to her.

"Are you coming?"

The words were said gruffly, but there was hidden softness in them. Ignoring how just detecting that made her heart beat faster; she shouted back an affirmative before running to catch up with him. Once she was at his side, they walked out of the chamber together to meet the dawn.

Sightless eyes from below watched the figures as they crossed the abandoned city. The early morning sun tinting the scenery with rose colored light. Aurora's blessed rays draping over the couple like a heavenly quilt. She was the first of four to awaken; timeless and created with one purpose. She had a special hatred for the planet, but it was in her kind's nature to hate life. The earth withered beneath her feet and she longed to feel the sweet despair of mortal death between her fingers. Since the beginning she'd slept, waiting for the day she'd be released. The first ones had sealed her and they had chosen this time to release her. She had never been one to understand them. They were as unknowable as the creator itself and twice as unreasonable.

Though she was curious why the first ones should summon that which they'd sealed. They who had separated from the light called her from the darkness -- they who tired of the constraints of earth and wished to see the stars. They broke away from the collective consciousness long enough to order the death of one of their own. It was laughable. Yet they were screaming now for her blood. She wondered what the others still loyal to the planet would do if they knew? Not that she cared much. They couldn't stop her even if they wanted to. They were dead, their bodies long rotted away. She wasn't alive, not in the strictest sense of the term, but she had a body and that was enough to separate them from her. This time, she would be unfettered. Those who split cried at her, threatened her with peevish curses to get on with her duty. They were the ones who held the whip. She was their servant. How very presumptuous of them. They'd have to wait upon her leisure; she was never one to rush a job. Especially one as deliciously innocent and pretty as the girl -- oh, she was a sweet piece of flesh.

She was hardly a threat, really, and she couldn't see why they wanted her death to come so quickly. Such a frail thing; she had no conception of her own great power, being barely in control of what little she mastered as it was. At this rate, she'd destroy herself before anyone else could get to her. It'd only take a small push, and there were so many delightful ways to play with the human mind, so many ways, indeed. She'd already set up a nice little game for the girl. It was only a matter of waiting for her to be ensnared. The best part was that the only one who could save her from herself she barely trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself. They were a mismatched pair at best and she had nothing but congratulations for the fool who had put them together. It made her job that much easier.

Oh, she could strike now. Devastatingly so but to kill the girl so easily really took the fun out of it. There would be no challenge and she hadn't amused herself in a very long time. Yes, she'd bide her time. After all, she'd waited an eternity and now she had all the time in the world.