Chapter 10
Convergence
Cloud paused, motioning for Tifa to do the same. The high bluff that was Gaia's Cliff towered above them, a massive wall of ice and rock. He and Tifa and the others had traversed it years before while in pursuit of Sephiroth. It had been a long and difficult climb, one Cloud did not look forward to repeating.
He and Tifa had traversed the glacier without further incident and had managed to avoid the storm as it billowed south. Hopefully Vincent would be able to navigate his way through it, as it was heading right for him. Though he would have liked to have had his friend here now, the snow leopards had kept them apart. Cloud and Tifa would have to face the ice witch alone, as she had originally intended.
They had left Fenrir at Holzoff's cabin that morning, as it wasn't that far from the grizzled old climber's home to the base of the cliffs. And the bike would have done no good here, anyway, as the slope was much too steep to ride upon. With fresh supplies and a renewed sense of purpose, Cloud and Tifa had traveled the rest of the way on foot. They were here, but where was the ice witch? Where was Marlene?
"Cloud," Tifa brought up her fists. Something was out there.
He nodded, sword in hand. "I hear it, too."
A subtle rise in the wind, a deepening of the icy cold, and suddenly she was there. Emerging from the trees with hardly a sound, her bare feet walking upon the top of the snow and leaving no tracks behind. She had shed her gray cloak, here in her native element, and wore only a shoulderless garment of deep blue that did little to hide her feminine curves. Curls of pale blue hair hung down her back, and her scarlet eyes gazed upon Cloud and Tifa the way those of a hawk might examine its prey.
Held tightly by one slender arm was Marlene, shivering and frightened but otherwise unharmed. "Tifa! Cloud!"
"Let her go," Cloud pointed his blade at the ice witch.
She made a sweeping motion with her other arm, and suddenly Cloud's weapon was torn from his hand by an unseen yet inhumanly strong force. The sword tumbled to the snow, but before Cloud could do anything, that same invisible fist slammed into his chest and he fell. A startled cry from Tifa told him the same thing had just happened to her.
The ice witch gazed down at them, her crimson eyes narrowing. "I'll do as I wish, Cloud Strife. And if you want the girl back, so will you."
"What do you want?" Tifa growled.
"There is something I need, something you're going to find for me. It's on the other side of the cliff, in the depths of the crater."
Cloud suddenly understood. "You're after the Black Materia."
"Very good," she confirmed.
"What makes you think it's even in there?" Tifa demanded. "And why do you want it? What are you going to do with it?"
The ice witch tightened her grip on Marlene. "That's not your concern, is it? All that matters is that I need it, and that you're going to get it for me."
Cloud got to his feet. "Why should we help you?"
"Because," the ice witch hissed. Suddenly in her free hand was a curved dagger of solid ice, vapor rising from the blade. She held it in front of Marlene's suddenly wide eyes so she could see it. "If you don't, the girl will die."
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Damn. What the goddamn hell were you thinking, Sis?
Squall tried his best not to show his irritation, lest the wedding guests suspect something was amiss. But he couldn't help worrying about Ellone. No one had seen her since late yesterday afternoon, nor even realized she was missing until this morning when she hadn't shown up to get ready for the ceremony. She was one of the bridesmaids, so it hadn't taken Selphie and the other girls long to realize Ellone wasn't there.
Nor had it taken much coaxing for Selphie to admit to signing out a chocobo yesterday for Ellone to ride. Sis had gone south, and while he understood why she might have wanted to clear her head, Squall guessed that there were other reasons for the trip. Ellone had taken her bladestaff with her.
It was his own damned fault, of course. He'd kept her out of the training center, but only because he'd been trying to protect her. Ellone had wanted to move too quickly with her training, but even with her unusual skills there were still a lot of things she had to learn. Squall had never expected her to go this far, though.
"Squall… —orry, but… had to go. I'm fine… —ent the night under… few trees. Had… battles. I'm on… way back… not sure… way to go. Storm's still going… —ard to see, but I'll… alright. Starlight… her way home. Tell Selph… —et herself married. I wish… could be there… see it. Don't worry about me, Squall. I'll… back… you know it."
Ellone's garbled call a few hours ago had calmed Squall's nerves a little. At least she'd had the sense to take her cell phone with her, though with the interference from the storm, Squall had only managed to catch bits and pieces of her words. But she seemed out of danger, for the moment at least. Squall wouldn't rest easy until she had come back safely to the Garden, however.
Hopefully, the search teams would find her before too long and bring her back. Kiros was leading them, so Squall didn't feel as much anxiety about the situation as he otherwise might have. If anyone could find her, Kiros would. In the meantime, Squall tried to enjoy the wedding as much as he could. Rinoa would tease him mercilessly if he didn't seem to be having a good time.
From her place at Selphie's side, Rinoa winked at him, all smiles. She and Quistis and Xu all wore fine strapless gowns of pale yellow silk with white lace, though in Squall's admittedly biased opinion, Rinoa was the most beautiful of the three, her dark hair spilling over her bare shoulders in loose curls. Selphie's dress was similar in style but completely white in color, and her green eyes shone behind the veil.
Squall, like Zell and Nida to his left and Irvine to his right, wore his formal SeeD uniform. His commander's pips shone on his collar, and had he looked down, he'd have seen his face reflected in his boots. It was a bit odd to see Irvine in uniform, as he wore it so rarely, and his head seemed bare without his trademark cowboy hat. But his cocky grin was as firmly in place as always. Some things never changed.
A quick glance at the crowd of guests seated in Trabia Garden's banquet hall showed Squall a few familiar faces near the front. Laguna, who'd given Selphie away, and Ward. Matron Edea was also in front, but Cid was busy conducting the ceremony. Squall doubted that Selphie would have wanted anyone else to do it. Zell's girlfriend—Sara, wasn't it?—a pretty green-eyed SeeD with a thick braid of blond hair. Dr. Kadowaki was here, too, and Mark Denham, the cafeteria lady's son. Lily Baines was with him. Did Zell know? Probably. But it was his problem, not Squall's.
There was an odd expression on the Denham kid's face, though, one Squall didn't like. Maybe he was just worried about Zell. Dating the ex-girlfriend of a guy like him was certainly a risky endeavor. Zell wasn't known for his sense of restraint, after all. And he'd never really gotten over Lily, much as he'd have liked to convince people otherwise. Even Squall could see it. He wondered if Zell's new girl could, too.
When had Squall started thinking about stuff like that? No doubt it was Rinoa's influence. He loved her to death, but sometimes he didn't realize just how much she had changed him. At least he wasn't telling people to talk to walls anymore. Once, Squall would never have imagined having a woman in his life, much less one like Rinoa. Now he couldn't imagine his life without her.
A sudden eruption of cheers and applause brought Squall to the present, and he turned to see Irvine and Selphie wrapped in a fervent kiss. So that was it, then. Husband and wife. Squall clapped along with the others and wondered when it would be his and Rinoa's turn. All he had to do was ask, right? Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.
With a little luck, Kiros and the others would find Ellone and she would be back to at least catch some of the reception over in the quad. The storm that she was struggling through hadn't quite gotten here yet, though had he stepped outside, Squall would have seen the lines of gray clouds piled on the southeastern horizon. Another day or so, probably, and that blizzard would catch up to them.
He would have to get the Garden moving again before that. Bad weather would hinder its mobility, and Squall had no wish to draw out the inevitable goodbyes. He would be leaving a pair of good friends behind, and it was something he did not look forward to. Selphie and Irvine had made their choice, and Squall wished them well here in Trabia. But his own Garden was going to seem oddly empty after they were gone.
Squall took Rinoa's arm and followed the happy couple out of the banquet hall as the ceremony concluded. He barely heard the music and the laughter, though, as an odd premonition suddenly struck him. Something wasn't right, although he could not have said what that might have been. Was something going to happen? Or had it already begun? Whatever the case, Squall's instincts told him to be wary.
He thought again of the odd expression on Denham's face, a sort of faint worry that even Squall had been able to see. What was going on? Suddenly, Squall wasn't so sure it had anything to do with Zell. But it made him uneasy. It was as though the kid was expecting something and not liking whatever it was it might be. But what?
Maybe I'm just seeing things. Or overworked. Probably both.
Nevertheless, Squall couldn't shake the vague disquiet that had settled within him. As he and Rinoa made their way to Balamb Garden's quad for the reception, that seed of doubt seemed to grow stronger with every step. But what could he do about it? Nothing, at least for the moment. Except watch and wait.
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The better part of a day had come and gone, and still Vincent waited in the clearing. The leopards were still out there. They hadn't moved, so neither had he. Their waiting bothered him more than a little. Hadn't they been after Cloud and Tifa? Wasn't that the point of the chase? Or was it something else?
Or were Cloud and Tifa not their intended prey?
Vincent straightened as though splashed with cold water. How could he have not seen it? It wasn't his friends the leopards were after. It was him. He had killed the grayback, after all. Their pack leader. They had sped north as though pursuing his friends, knowing all the while that he would follow without hesitation. But where were they leading him? And why had they not struck yet?
Maybe they were biding their time, herding him into an ambush somewhere. If that were the case, they could afford to take their time and wait for him. They couldn't be far off, though, and Vincent realized he'd been toyed with. He would wait here a little longer to see if the leopards knew he had caught on to their little game, but he would not be their plaything any longer.
The sun was sinking beneath the treetops, the close of another day, and Vincent could only hope his friends had reached the rendezvous in time. They were beyond his help now, though he would continue traveling north as swiftly as he could. With luck, he would find them before they had completed the ice witch's errand.
And then Marlene's captor would know true fear.
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Mark Denham watched with a certain apprehension as people gathered in the quad for the reception. At the staff table, the senior officers of both Balamb and Trabia Gardens, many of which had participated in the actual wedding, were sitting and chatting along with several VIP guests such as Esthar's President Loire. In the middle of that table stood the wedding cake, a three-tiered confection trimmed with flowers of yellow icing.
First would come the speeches, though, and to start them off was the commander himself. Leonhart rose, tapped a fork to his glass to get everyone's attention, and waited for the murmur of conversation to die down before starting. For a moment, though, as he looked over the crowd, his gaze fixed on Mark. Just a brief second and then it was gone. But in that moment, Mark almost warned him. Almost said what surely would have led to his expulsion and perhaps imprisonment. But something held him back, the fear of what would happen if he did say something. If she found out about his betrayal.
If that happened, others would suffer. Lily would suffer.
That sickness, that poison that had nearly consumed his mother, would come back. That woman would make sure of it. Mark had no doubt of that. He had seen the bite on his mother's arm, the swollen flesh of the wound that had looked so small when she had first received it. Mark knew well enough what had caused it. He had seen it himself when the woman had come to him later.
It was a snake.
A viper, its scales black and glistening, its eyes slitted and amber and not unlike those of its mistress. It had slithered around her arm, gazing at Mark with those terrible eyes, its forked tongue flicking in and out. And then the woman had handed him the device, whispering to him the deadly consequences of failure, her words punctuated every so often by the snake's hissing. Mark had understood at once.
He glanced to his left, where Lily was sitting next to him. She smiled, but he could see the worry behind it. Mark hadn't told her everything, not by half. He couldn't let her know the danger she was in. Bad enough the woman had threatened his mother, but she had seemed to sense his feelings for Lily and, while not directly, had insinuated that she too would pay should he not complete his task.
Mark had promised himself he wouldn't let that damned snake anywhere near her. Even if it did mean planting that device under the staff table, an act that was nothing less than a betrayal of the people and place he cared about so much. But he'd had no choice. Lily, his mother, and half the Garden's population would be poisoned and killed by that woman and her snakes. Mark hadn't thought for a minute that her pet was unique.
So to save the many, he had to let the few suffer.
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With his one task finished, Squall sat down and let out a relieved sigh. He still wasn't comfortable giving speeches, but he thought he was at least getting a little better at it. Irvine and Selphie had liked it, anyway, and the toast he'd given them at the end. The champagne felt good as he took another sip. Maybe it would help him loosen up.
Rinoa, as the maid of honor, gave the next speech, followed by Cid. The headmaster and his wife sat at the middle of the table, Squall and Rinoa to their left and Irvine and Selpie on their right. Zell was at Rinoa's left with Quistis, Xu, and Nida, while Laguna, Ward, and the Trabia Garden headmistress, her staff, and a few other VIP guests sat to the right of the bride and groom.
There was another call for silence, this time from Cid, as Irvine and Selphie rose from their seats to cut the cake. Squall wished there weren't so many cameras—it sometimes felt as though he was always staring at one nowadays—but at such a big event like this, he supposed it was unavoidable. He was just starting to relax, clasping Rinoa's hand in his, when a young SeeD, her face oddly pale, hurried over to him and whispered something in his ear. Now, of all times?
"Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you, but we just received an urgent message from Minister Kiros. I think… I think it has to do with your sister…"
Squall faced her immediately. "What is it?"
"I'm not sure, sir. He asked to speak to you right away."
"What's wrong?" Rinoa asked softly, not wanting to disturb the scene before them. Selphie and Irvine were just now touching a knife to the top layer of the cake. Squall didn't want to miss it, but he knew Kiros wouldn't have called like this unless it was absolutely necessary. And if Ellone was in trouble, Squall had to go to her.
He looked at Rinoa. "I don't know. I'll be right back, though. Don't go anywhere."
Following the young SeeD, Squall rose and hurried to one side of the quad, where a communications panel was fixed upon the wall. On the video link, Kiros was standing on the bridge of the Illumina, the sister ship of Squall's own Ragnarok airship. Behind Kiros, Squall could see the snowy hills of Trabia unfolding beyond the forward windows of the bridge. He didn't like how dark the skies looked.
"What's going on, Kiros? Did you find Ellone?"
"Not yet," Kiros shook his head. "But I just picked up some rather unpleasant news from my contacts in Winhill. I think Ellone's in more danger than we thought."
Squall leaned forward, all thoughts of the wedding gone. "What do you mean?"
"There's been a murder. A body was found in Winhill less than half an hour ago. I just got word of it myself."
"Murder? In Winhill?" Squall's jaw sagged.
Kiros nodded. "That's not all. The victim… it was Marissa Clark. Ellone's neighbor. A friend of hers, remember? Her throat was cut, and her neck was snapped. The authorities say it happened a few days ago."
"I think I met her once. But I still don't get it. Why was she killed?"
"There was one other thing. The killer carved something into her forehead. The initials 'E.L.' and… something like a snake."
Squall looked at him, his blood running cold. "Are you sure?"
"I saw a postmortem photo of it myself just before I called you. One of my contacts emailed me a copy. Squall, Marissa knew that Ellone was going to Trabia."
"Shit!" Suddenly it all clicked into place. Squall's eyes widened. "Kiros, you have to find Ellone. Find her now!"
Kiros understood. "I intend to. You coming?"
"The Ragnarok will be at your position in twenty minutes. We have to get to Ellone before Marissa's killer does. He's out there, I'm sure of it."
"I agree. See you then, Squall. Kiros out."
The channel winked off, leaving the screen blank and empty. Squall felt his earlier sense of dread return, this time magnified tenfold. Ellone was lost, trying to head back here, not knowing that she herself was being hunted. By who or what, Squall didn't know. He would figure that out later. Right now, all that mattered was getting Ellone to safety.
Squall turned back to the wedding reception, regretting what he was going to have to do. But Selphie and Irvine and the others would understand, would in fact insist on going with him. Ellone was their friend, too, after all. And saving her life was more important right now. The rest of the celebration could wait.
But Squall had taken no more than a single step back toward the gathering when an eerie, high-pitched whine abruptly cut through the air and was gone. What the hell was that? Squall looked up, seeing the sudden unease on Cid's face as he and Matron Edea stood at the middle of the table with Selphie and Irvine, who had paused in the act of cutting their wedding cake.
In that seemingly eternal moment, one that would haunt Squall for the rest of his life, the full meaning of Mark Denham's odd anxiety suddenly hit him like a wendigo's fist. He tried to call out, his wide, frightened eyes moving from the headmaster to Matron and Rinoa and the others, but it was too late.
The staff table exploded.
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Ellone shivered, not looking forward to spending another night out here in the cold. But try as she might, she couldn't seem to get her bearings. Starlight was heading north, alright, but the hills all looked the same in the snowy haze of the storm. Wherever she looked, sheets of whiteness were falling from the skies. The clouds had darkened to an ugly gray that was almost black, and the occasional rumble of thunder crashed through the air as twilight drew near.
She looked over her shoulder again but saw nothing. Yet for the last hour, Ellone could have sworn something was out there. Or someone. Her intuition warned against making any sort of contact, however, and so she had pressed on, hoping to reach Garden before nightfall. Yet even that seemed unlikely now.
A sliver of dread shot down her spine, and Ellone glanced back again. Still nothing. But she could have sworn she wasn't alone. She felt behind her with one hand until her fingers found the shaft of her weapon. Funny how it made her feel safer now. After this morning's fight with the gaylas, she was starting to get used to having it around. But she would never like using it, never care for the bloodshed and death the use of such a weapon entailed. Ellone wouldn't let it change who she was.
Her stomach rumbled, but Ellone rode on. She hadn't eaten since leaving the Garden late yesterday afternoon, nor had she brought anything with her. She hadn't thought she'd be out so long, after all. Ellone's mouth watered at the thought of the food that everyone at the reception must have been enjoying by now. If only she hadn't been so headstrong, Ellone could have been there herself.
Yet part of her wondered if this wasn't somehow where she was meant to be. Ever since she'd woken up this morning in that little stand of spindly pines under which she'd made her meager camp, Ellone had felt herself carried along on some unseen current she could not name, driven by fate or the heavens or who knew what else. It wasn't dangerous, exactly, but it frightened her a little. It was as though everything in her life before this was pushing her to some defining moment not far off, but what that might be, Ellone did not know. It was strange and unsettling and exciting all at the same time.
And then there were the voices.
Ellone didn't think she was crazy, but neither could she deny what she was hearing. Not with her ears, but in her mind. A soft chorus of whispers, like a group of people talking in a far off room with the door closed. Sometimes one or another of the voices almost became distinct, but then they fell away just before Ellone could pinpoint what they were. She had first begun hearing them late this morning, little by little until it was an almost constant presence in her mind.
Beneath the current of voices was a larger one, soft like the others but vast and without words. It felt somehow familiar to Ellone, something she had known or should have known on some deeper level. The other voices were a part of it, filled it yet were separate from it. The many were dependent on the one, and the one on the many. Ellone didn't understand and yet she did. It was almost like a part of herself was coming home, something inside her that had slept for most of her life was finally waking up.
But what was it? And why now?
Ellone shook off her thoughts as that feeling of dread returned. But this time when she looked back, her fear was justified. Something was there. A figure, tall and hooded and dark against the storm, stood on a rise watching her, the edges of its cloak fluttering in the wind. The thing met her gaze, and Ellone had to choke back a sudden urge to scream. She tried to reach for the bladestaff, but fear froze her solid.
The shape walked toward her and faded out, gone one moment and there the next, only now it was closer, less than fifty meters away. In the midst of the storm, it looked at her, its pale face mottled and gray, something twisted and tortured yet undeniably and horrifyingly human. But it was the eyes that held Ellone in place, that cause her heart to pound and her body to shake with raw terror.
Or rather, where its eyes should have been.
There were none, only empty pits of deepest black. Ellone shivered, paralyzed with fear by that eyeless gaze. She saw death in those dark sockets. Her death. One moment, the shape was there, a hideous sight in the gloom of the storm. The next, it was gone. Ellone found she could move, though she was still shaking quite badly. She urged Starlight into a trot, trying to put as much distance between herself and that thing as possible.
But no sooner had she started moving again than the shape came at her again, this time appearing right in front of Starlight's beak. The frightened chocobo squawked madly, her wings flaring out as she stumbled backwards so violently that she threw Ellone from the saddle. Ellone cried out, tumbling into the snow with a thud, and before she knew what was happening, Starlight bolted off into the night and was gone.
Ellone rolled to her feet and pulled the bladestaff from its harness as her pursuer closed in. The thing wasted no words, instead brandishing a pair of wickedly curved blades. It moved with inhuman speed, darting from place to place and slashing with expert precision. Yet by some means she could not explain, Ellone found herself parrying blow after blow, steel clanging against steel in the midst of the storm.
Her blood burned, the soft tingling of her power now stronger than Ellone had ever thought it could be, seeming to flow seamlessly from her body into her weapon. Or was it the other way around? It felt as though something or someone was guiding her, fighting through her, and with every stroke and every thrust, the power inside her grew stronger. Though still afraid, Ellone found she could face her enemy without faltering.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
The thing's voice was like ice. "I am your death. Call me… Sa'miel."
"She sent you to kill me."
"It is our Queen's will," he agreed, cutting at her again with his swords. "Your power wakes, but it will not save you."
Ellone blocked his attack, spinning low to thrust upward in an attack of her own. Yet the assassin's reflexes were faster than she had anticipated, parrying her strike with blinding speed. He spun, his blades descending toward her, but Ellone was fast, too, rolling aside and slashing in at him with a powerful backhand thrust. Sa'miel had his swords there instantly, however, slamming her weapon away with his own before it could connect.
Metal clashed against metal, the sound ringing in the frigid night as Ellone and Sa'miel fought. Neither gave any ground, and neither took any. The battle raged, Ellone thrusting and slashing for all she was worth. The power burned inside her, setting her blood on fire as it continued to build. She spun and ducked and dodged, escaping Sa'miel's vicious attacks even as he parried her own.
Ellone braced herself as Sa'miel fell back for a moment, spinning his blades in his gloved hands. He didn't attack, though, but looked at her with that horrifying, eyeless gaze. Ellone swallowed but didn't let down her guard. What was he planning? His cloak, bulky and thick and as black as the night air, swirled around him. Sa'miel, standing a few meters away, pointed the tip of one sword at Ellone's heart.
"Enough play."
He rushed at her, swords raised, and Ellone whipped up her bladestaff to counter the blow. But the attack never came. Sa'miel disappeared in midthrust. What had just happened? Ellone lowered her weapon and took a step forward, looking at the place where he'd been, when suddenly she froze, her head whipping up and her eyes widening.
Sa'miel was behind her.
Ellone gasped in shock as he plunged one of his swords into her back. Pain ripped through her body as the cold steel sliced through her heart and punched through her ribs. Dimly, she managed to look down and see the blade as it broke through the skin of her chest and the fabric of her jacket.
She managed to bring one trembling hand up to touch the blade that had killed her, the steel slick with her own blood. Everything was swimming, the world falling away like a mirage. There was a sickening wrench as she felt Sa'miel slide his sword from her body, and then her legs could no longer support her.
Ellone crumpled to the ground, her blood pouring out onto the snow.
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It was done.
Sa'miel looked with silent satisfaction at the girl he had just killed. She had proven as much of a challenge as he had hoped, though in truth he could have ended her life at any time. But letting her believe she could win, then cutting her down just as she realized her foolhardiness, was so much better.
Gravheine would be pleased. Now there was no obstacle for the her dark Queen's rebirth. Once more, the planet would know her true Mistress. None of her guardians now remained to protect her. Sa'miel had seen to that. The girl might have come to know her true heritage in time, but he could not have allowed that.
Sa'miel unfurled his feathery wings, what the girl had mistaken for a cloak. In the near darkness of the storm, it was not surprising. Sa'miel ran a finger along the length of the bloodied blade and brought it to his mouth. The girl's blood was sweet, though not so much as he had hoped. Her family's bloodline had been diluted by many generations of human ancestors. But it would do.
Yet as he was about to leave, Sa'miel paused. Something was wrong. A flicker of white light pulsed over the girl's body. First one, then another. And another. The girl's weapon was still clasped in her dead hand, but now it was glowing, the intricate scrollwork engraved on the twin blades flaring to life in a brilliant flash of light.
Too late, Sa'miel sensed the hidden will within the weapon, the life pulsing within it. Those who had once been his people so long ago had forged a few such blades, powerful armaments capable of harboring a part of their wielder's life force, but Sa'miel had thought them all lost over the centuries save the one Gravheine possessed.
Light raced from the bladestaff and down the girl's arm to envelop her body, diving into the wounds like a swirl of miniature shooting stars and restoring the sundered flesh and bone. Skin and tissue knitted itself back together as light pulsed and flared within the girl's corpse in a blinding corona. And then Sa'miel saw the impossible happen.
The girl moved.
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I'm dead.
Not quite. You still have a lot to do. More than you know.
I don't understand.
You will, in time. You'll remember who you are. And what you are. And when that happens, you'll know what to do.
Who are you?
A friend. I've been waiting for you a long time. Your family and I have a long history together. Your real family, that is.
I never knew them. I wish I could have.
I know. And maybe you'll have that chance. You can hear those who've returned to the planet if you know how to listen.
What do you mean?
You'll understand. But right now we have work to do.
Alright. I'm ready.
Good. Then wake up. We'll talk again soon.
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Ellone gasped in a lungful of air, blinking snow out of her eyes as the world returned in a rush. The storm thundered around her, the cold air bit at her ears with sharp teeth. Smells assaulted her—rain, wet grass, sweat, drying blood. Ellone rolled onto her back, her vision coming into focus as she realized she was alive. Light glowed around her, and in her hand the bladestaff pulsed with warmth.
Her power surging within her, Ellone rose to her feet, and before Sa'miel could recover from his shock, she lunged forward and thrust the glowing bladestaff through his chest. He screamed, his wings fluttering as his weapons fell to the ground. There would be no escape this time. Ellone would see to that.
Her blood burning, Ellone finally gave vent to her power, letting it flow through her body unchecked and into the bladestaff, setting it ablaze with white fire. Roaring in a voice that was not her own, she drove the weapon deeper into Sa'miel's body. A body not of flesh but of some dark nether substance that slowly unraveled as the bladestaff's fury consumed it.
The wraith that was Sa'miel burned.
White fire ripped apart his spectral body in a blinding explosion that hurled Ellone into the air like a rag doll. Light was everywhere, everything. The snowfields were gone, the storm was gone. Everything was gone in that instant. Ellone was still holding the bladestaff, but its own light was fading in the wake of Sa'miel's destruction.
Ellone was falling, still falling. Falling into the light. It was as though the world had suddenly been ripped open and she was tumbling through a hole to the other side. But where? She couldn't see anything, just the light. And she was still falling as though some giant had picked her up and thrown her like a ball. But moments later shapes began to appear before her as the light faded. At first she wasn't sure what they were, but as her vision cleared, Ellone recognized them at once.
They were trees.
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The hairs on the back of Vincent's neck stood on end as he glanced warily around the clearing. Something was coming. He brought up Cerberus, his thumb cocking the hammer back, and waited. The wind picked up, whispering through the trees and scattering fallen leaves and pine cones in its wake. There was no other sound, but that didn't ease Vincent's mind. Snow leopards were cunning and silent killers when they wanted to be.
Vincent walked, guided by an impulse he could not ignore, to the middle of the clearing, his eyes watching the perimeter as he moved. What was going on? He gripped the Death Penalty in his other hand, his finger nestled against the trigger, but nothing showed itself. The leopards still seemed to be waiting.
So if it wasn't them, what was it?
There was a sudden flash of light almost right in front of him, and Vincent had just enough time to see the outline of someone falling toward him before the light vanished. Startled, he dropped his guns and threw up his hands just as a warm body collided with him and sent him sprawling onto his back in the snow. Vincent blinked, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed for the first time upon the person lying in his arms.
It was a woman.
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Ellone stared at the man underneath her, everything else suddenly driven from her mind. She found she couldn't speak, so stunned and overwhelmed was she at what had just happened. The bladestaff lay in the snow nearby, unlit and for the moment forgotten. Right now, Ellone couldn't take her eyes from those of the handsome stranger.
Her heart hammering against her ribs, Ellone searched for words but found none. She was acutely aware of the warmth of his body beneath hers, of the sensation of his arms still holding onto her. She could feel his heart beating not so far from her own, and it was racing as fast as hers. His eyes were attractive reddish-brown pools that Ellone thought she would lose herself in if she gazed at them for too long. Yet she was helpless in that moment to do anything but that.
Words came to her, a thousand things she wanted to say, but nothing came out. She was almost afraid to break the silence, and from the look of it, the man beneath her was having the same struggle. Why was it so hard? Every time Ellone opened her mouth, her heart leapt up in her throat. Her skin tingled with goosebumps, and a host of butterflies fluttered lazily in her stomach as she finally spoke.
"…Hi…"
