Kuro: Well, another chapter approaches. I hope you all will be fine with this one. X3
Sashi: I most certainly enjoyed it!
Kuro: O.o Wait, you're not supposed it . . . YOU LOOKED INTO THIS DIDN'T YOU!?!
Sashi: (smirks) Yep!
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DISCLAIMER: I do not own this stuff.
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Chapter VIII.
Interesting Twists.
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Vincent looked around. He could only feel a bit strange as he was in the crowded air bus. He did feel some shifty eyes, but that was all. He intended to go to the Industrial District. One of the guards who were "brave" enough to speak to him told him of a synthesis shop. He intended to buy tools for the repair of his gun.
The door opened, and he waited as the other citizens of Lindblum exit out, all going forth in their own business.
"Oof!" Vincent felt something, or rather, someone accidentally crash into him. He looked down to the boy, whose black hair blocked his eyes. "Sorry mister!" The boy pulled himself up, before running off as well.
Vincent watched as the boy went, but noticed immediately.
His wallet was gone.
He shook his head, and briskly walked forth, not looking the least bit angry at what had just happened.
---
"Heh heh . . . damn, that guy's loaded!!" The boy smiled widely, looking into the wallet. But he also found a plastic card, one that read something different from the ordinary Gaian language. In the eyes of the current beholder, it was nothing more but strange writing and scribbles besides the strange picture. "What the—"
A hand came out of no where, snatching the wallet and all. The boy gasped at first, and before he could run, he looked towards the man he had stolen it from.
Tall.
Dark.
Sinister.
The boy could only imagine these words, before taking in a sharp breath as he was locked by those blood crimson eyes.
They weren't normal.
They couldn't have been real.
So . . . did that mean . . . he was . . . a vampire?
---
Vincent did not glare at the boy. As the boy fell back in pure shock, he noticed the boy's rag for clothes, his dirtied face, and the state of his body, which showed obvious signs of malnutrition. Instantly he knew that he was a street rat, a boy without a true purpose or home.
He slipped out 1000 gil and threw it to the boy. The boy caught it, too shocked to possibly say anything else. He didn't even notice the shine that it produced, or the luster it had, as if it was newly made.
"Next time you pickpocket, do not draw attention through unnecessary actions. Target distracted fools, and not sharp fighters."
Vincent turned around, exiting the alley. The boy only remained there, speechless. But he watched the man with red eyes disappear from his sight, before falling to his knees. Warmth was in his breeches, but he didn't care.
For the first time, he felt that close to hell.
What that man knew . . . it wasn't . . . humanly possible to know.
He didn't know this, but he felt it.
But he looked at the large amount of gil, and could only feel confused.
Was the man serious? Was he being kind?
Or was it a pity gift?
He looked at the place where the man had once stood. Feeling it, he knew instantly, that the man had given it to him not as a gift of pity, but as a gift of warning.
He gripped the gil hard, before muttering softly. "Thank you."
And with that, he ran away.
---
Vincent walked down the long street, his eyes searching for the given sign. He knew how to read Gaian, but it was still more than his usual hassle. He had found it odd how the language in itself had been twisted so much. Nouns were at the end of a sentence, while actions were in the first. His name was written in such a way that made it sound female-ish, while female names sounded manly. However, once he translated it, it did make sense.
Well, in a crazy, Gaian sense perhaps.
This made him somewhat nostalgic of his former life's ease. He had no need to relearn the basic skills of language. Then again, he did have to adjust to the change of not only language, but also, the cultural changes.
And as he reminisced in his thoughts, he noticed a specific weapon shop. He intended to continue his little exploring, when he felt a specific pull.
To be more specific, a pull from Chaos.
'What is it?'
"Something . . . in this shop. Something . . . familiar."
Vincent raised a curious eyebrow. Deciding to be obedient, he looked in the direction of the pull. He was staring into the window of a weapon shop, and remained small-eyed as he peered at the weaponry that lined the window like toys in a store. He felt the need to roll his eyes over at the children with wooden swords, and the boys who whined to parents for such unnecessary things. But upon looking past that, he found exactly what Chaos had sensed.
His eyes widened, and as calmly as he always was, he entered the shop.
---
Veering from the usual crowd of men and children, he took sight of what had caught his eye.
It was held upon the wall by prongs, and if made to stand, would stand at 4.5 feet. It's thick and yet thin shape was familiar, one that made him feel a bit . . . nostalgic.
For during his journey with the "heroes of the past," the leader of their group had carried it upon his back, though he had had no need of it in the beginning of the journey. It was the man's burden, until he finally defeated the man whom he had set out to destroy. It was the trademark of his "former self," before he became the true man he was, leaving the sword behind in his late friend's place.
It was Cloud's sword.
However, as he wanted to make sure that it was truly what he thought it was, something had began to unfurl before him.
"I am sorry sir, but this sword is not for sale." He looked at the man. He was the shop's owner, and he did not look too happy about something.
In fact, he looked annoyed by the man who was standing before him, and the man's rather gorilla-like cronies. His clothes were too elaborate to be a fighter, perhaps a swordsman, but that measly rapier he had hanging on the side wasn't much. Sure, there were orbs of shiny metals upon it; however, they were merely a decoration.
He looked like a pathetic medieval mannequin on display. Except he was alive, breathing, and holding a lot of hot air in his lungs.
In other words, a stupid noble.
"I MUST have that sword! It belonged to the legendary fighter of ancient lore!" The man said, before taking out a heavy looking pouch. "I'll pay double, triple this amount. I need that sword!"
The shop keeper however looked against it. "No. I'm holding this for a specific person. My father has held this weapon, and my father's father. I shall not sell this sword to anyone, no matter the bid you may hold." The man glared at the rapier-holding noble.
Unfortunately, Vincent could feel the amount of hot air, and the rising temper of the man. His face practically glowed red. Something was going to happen.
"I don't want to step in . . ." Vincent whispered to himself. The cloak collar softened his voice, not allowing others around him to hear. And like a silent shadow, he slinked slowly towards the scene.
As said before, the Noble was beyond infuriated. The two men by his side slowly stepped away, unknown to the shopkeeper. The man growled, slowly moving a hand to the rapier. "You insolent fool . . . . . you dare refuse me, Remiel of the Ludocrav family?"
An immediate darkening flash appeared in his eyes.
Vincent moved.
---
"You will pay!!" Remiel lashed out his rapier with practiced ease, swinging it at the face of the shopkeeper.
The shopkeeper was frozen, but his eyes stared at the rapier's length. The flat edge was going towards his face, but the amount of force placed behind its course would be more than enough to have adverse effects. The shopkeeper waited for the pain to approach, closing his eyes to at least keep his pain from worsening.
But instead, he only heard a sharp sound. The sound of metal to metal.
The shopkeeper opened his eyes, and found his vision overrun by red. Crimson red to be precise. However, he noticed the dark ebony hair.
A man stood in his place.
Vincent turned his head slightly, looking at the shopkeeper with the corner of his eye. The man remained still, but nodded his head, as if a way to signal him.
Vincent turned back.
"Hitting the shopkeeper shall only call for consequences noble." Vincent said this in a low tone.
---
Remiel questioned what had just happened. And what had happened remained strange to him. A tall man with pale porcelain skin stood before him, clothed in dark black clothing and a brilliant crimson cloak. His left arm was up, blocking the attack to the shopkeeper.
He knew he head a metallic noise upon contact, so that meant the man had some sort of armor on his arm. However, he couldn't tell of the design or build, or even if he could conclude what the man had used.
He was a noble, a man with a lineage that ran back to even before the creation of Lindblum. He had the blood of those who crusaded before the true induction of Alexandria, and should have belonged to the line of royalty.
With such lineage, he was only met by respect. Those who were commoners, leeches of the nobles were to pay their respects to them only in gratitude. If not . . . they were eradicated, or merely pushed back down.
The shopkeeper himself had showed defiance, and needed to know his place. Why, how insulting and lowering was it to be hit by the weapon that originated from the shopkeeper's own hand?
However, another showed defiance. And here he stood before him.
Except, there was no sign of respect, or any sign of fear and lowerment from this man.
It was daunting.
---
The noble faltered ever so slightly, but remained strong. Well, to most of the public's eye. Vincent however saw his falter easily, and remained still. He kept his clothed arm up, making sure not to show the golden exterior, or the claws that pierced the flesh of so many creatures.
"How . . . how dare you get in my way!" Vincent eyed the man, who was questioning his own action.
"Acting like a child will not get you anywhere." Vincent glared his eyes at the man. "Can you not see that he does not intend to give it away?"
Remiel glared at Vincent, before withdrawing his rapier. "Stop your tongue cur, and allow me to give this man his just desserts!" At this, Remiel thrust the rapier forward, intending to pierce through the red cloaked man.
Vincent with obvious ease, moved to the side, and gripped onto the rapier, not fearing its specifically sharpened edges. His grip was that of pure steel, and remained unmoving. He was undaunted by the attack, and remained calm, his two eyes still locked onto Remiel's.
But upon gripping the rapier, his cloak no longer covered his left arm. And the reaction was expected.
There were sudden gasps, and also looks and stares at the golden claw. As if on signal, it shined in refracted light from the weaponry in the room. But Vincent made no notion, as he tightened his grip on the rapier blade, before shifting his grip on it. With his human hand, he slapped the hilt of the sword hard, causing it to fly and clatter on the floor.
He turned to Remiel, who's face was no longer red. He saw the blood drain from the man's face, one which had changed from beet red to pale white.
"What . . . what in the name of Gaia is that!?!" Remiel pointed at the claw arm with disgust and shock, or perhaps, pure fear.
Vincent looked at it casually, and looked back at Remiel. "Only an arm."
Remiel took a step back, his eyes widening. "DEVIL!"
"A fool of a noble." Vincent only agreed with Chaos, before taking a shallow breath inward. He shook his head, before turning to the shopkeeper.
"Are these men bothering you sir?" The man remained silent at Vincent's question. For a second, he felt fear. The appearance of the man, the power the man expelled, but most of all . . . the aura that he possessed. It was one of an otherworldly force, one that only those who have become empathetic could possibly feel or achieve.
But as if by some strange force, he felt . . . secure, and safe. It was as if the man in the blood red cloak was giving him the security that he so desperately wanted from the Noble.
He opened his mouth, and mouthed. "Yes."
And Vincent closed his eyes. "Understood."
"Don't turn your back to me demon! Guards, apprehend this demon and this ignorant fool!"
Vincent heard blundering footsteps, and turned.
The two men jumped into the air, their obvious strength powering giant muscles.
If anyone who hadn't experienced, or weren't experienced enough in the stage of battle, one would expect the thugs to win.
But if looked closer, it was Vincent who had the advantage.
The shopkeeper watched as Vincent shifted his feet. He saw the muscles the man's legs had. They were lithe and strong, and as hard as steel. The mere movement of his feet showed the solidity of the muscle, and also the ability that his legs held in attack.
The shoulders of the thugs were uptight, strictly held back. That meant that they had no ability to turn or weave through an attack in itself. Thus, the name thugs suited them.
Vincent's shoulders were relaxed, and they showed no sign of restrain or tightness. And if he imagined the state of the man's arms, they were also relaxed as well.
When comparing the two different types of body types, and body reactions, the shopkeeper knew immediately who had the clear advantage.
The man in the cloak.
And he watched as the scene before him unfolded.
---
"Let's crush this twig bro." Thug 1 on the right said.
"Okay brudda!" Replied Thug 2.
Thug 1 came first, intending to get a full swing at Vincent's torso. His large arm was more than enough needed for Vincent, as he used his human hand to grab hold of the wrist. Pulling it down, he caused the man to slam into the ground, allowing inertia to be thrown into him.
"Why you—" Vincent heard Thug 2 cry out angrily, and stared at the man lashed out an arm as well. The arm was as useless as his friend's own, and his attempt to grab him was futile.
However, he remembered the shopkeeper behind him. If he was to move even an inch, the lug of a human would be injuring him as well.
He didn't want to involve civilians.
This time, he grabbed hold of the man's wrist, but not to use as support. He kept his grip on firmly, and allowed the man to approach him. And with a simple jump, he initiated a side kick into the side of the man's ribs.
Thug 2 literally spun around, and as Vincent spun from his kick, he released Thug 2's wrist, allowing him to sprawl down wherever he pleased. With kicked in momentum, he used his human hand and gripped onto the collar of the fallen Thug 1. And with ease, he threw the man at Thug 2.
Thug 1, who blinked, felt pain as he crashed into Thug 2. Thug 2, who was groaning, yelped in surprise and pain as Thug 1 fell atop him. And by reaction, both looked up at Vincent.
Vincent's eyes seemed to glow. He said in a cool, but dangerous voice, "Leave, and dare not enter."
From that moment, they urinated, but ran, leaving the one who had hired them.
---
"Hey! Wait!!" Remiel cried out as he watched his bodyguards abandon him. He grumbled, before looking at Vincent. "Damn them good for nothings. Don't send in thugs to do a man's job."
Vincent watched as Remiel began to make way to him, running at a faster speed. His hand went to his side, and he readied himself for a weapon.
However, what came next wasn't predicted, or expected.
Remiel released what was in his hand.
Black dust.
Vincent's eyes widened.
And the dust entered his eyes.
Vincent grunted, feeling pain and was immediately blinded. He squinted his eyes as tears ran down, in hopes to release and free the particles from his vision.
Remiel watched as Vincent fell to a knee, shielding his eyes with his human hand. He smirked as horrific hubris built within his human shell, and began to once more poison his mind. It shrouded his cowardice, replacing it with a fool's courage. "Just like that, bow down, and remain down cur."
Although Vincent was blind, he wasn't deaf. And he wasn't stupid, or ignorant like the man before him. He remained still, and allowed the pain to dull away, listening to the movements of Remiel.
He heard a shift, and reacted.
---
Remiel brought out a knife, one that was hidden behind the rapier. "Die insolent pig!!"
He expected to hit flesh, but instead, felt pain in his wrist.
Vincent grabbed it with his golden claw, and thus, caused flesh to be pierced, and bone to be crushed.
He screamed.
"Esuna." Vincent whispered, and allowed the magic to overcome the blindness. Tears rushed out, and the black dust made the salty tears black as well. Riding down his high cheek bones, it looked like as if the fluids were poisoned, escaping his eyes.
He looked at Remiel, who was writhing in pain. With a simple gesture, he released the man's wrist, and revealed the mess that it had become.
It was twisted, and showed the white bone beneath. Of course, it was painful, and of course, it meant that there was a need for an intensive white magic spell to heal it.
He looked around, and sighed. There was no white mage amongst the crowd. He had to do it himself.
As he raised his human hand, which had the bangle with the Restore Materia, he made way to the noble, who was blinded by the pain in his wrist.
However, someone beat him to it.
---
"You stupid man."
---
Vincent snapped his head to the voiced comment.
He knew that voice.
He had become familiar with it from the long trek before arriving at Lindblum.
And yes.
Standing at the doorway of the shop, going through the crowd and piercing the empty "fight" circle, was a man that stood at 6 feet. Brown hair, dark black eyes, and an attitude of a carefree bastard.
It was Nataku.
---
"N—Nataku?" Nataku nodded. So it seemed that they knew each other.
Apparently, Remiel knew Nataku, and Nataku likewise. However, the hopefulness in Remiel's voice made Nataku frown.
"Stupid, don't move, or you'll be cutting the damn thing." Nataku barked at Remiel. Remiel, who had lost all conscious thought, merely nodded, allowing his tears to fall down, and his teeth to grit. The brown haired and black eyed man groaned, before putting down his pack. It made a thud noise, but he paid no mind as he went through the contents.
"Let's see here . . . ah! Here we go!!" Nataku emerged from the giant bag, revealing a rather dense container. "This should do the trick." He turned and poured the contents on the man's wrist.
Vincent watched with curiosity as the wound began to heal. Muscles around the wrist regenerated, restoring itself to its natural state. Following the muscle was the color within it, becoming its familiar blood pink. And finally, skin wrapped around the muscle, becoming the reinforced barrier.
It looked as good as new.
What . . . was that? It was powerful enough to heal it completely, and had the same, or perhaps, more healing ability than the mastered Cure spell.
Was that an Elixir?
As Remiel recovered from his stupor, he saw Vincent. "Stupid fo—"
But upon trying to insult Vincent, Nataku did something rather odd.
He hit Remiel on the head.
And this, Vincent found quite amusing.
"Baka! You do realize what you've done!"
Remiel looked at Nataku. He blinked.
Nataku groaned, before shaking his head. "You're still as dull as a mule Remy. Huh . . . no wonder you've specialized in weaponry." Nataku pointed at Vincent. "He's a good fighter, and if forced, could kill you."
At this, Remiel's facial color was white.
"And he's spared you, and I think he was going to heal you. Yet you did that stupid trick. You thank it's gonna work against a veteran like this guy?"
Remiel eyed Vincent, who only eyed back.
"What I'm saying is that you've just became the villain. You may be a weapon collector, but don't be stupid enough to attack the guy! If you can't read your opponent's ability, then the collection is all for naught. AND, attacking the shopkeeper won't possibly give you that sword! AND because of this, if the Lindblum Uppers heard of this, they'd be revoking your status and mar your reputation."
Remiel looked down in shame.
"In all, you'd be screwed, and all you've done will be destroyed. Got it?" Nataku said firmly as he put away the empty container.
Remiel nodded. "I . . . see . . ." He looked up at the shopkeeper, who was peering over Vincent. "I'm sorry . . . it's just, when I see something amazing and valuable, I go berserk. And I've not come across a man or woman who would refuse such a large amount of payment. I saw red."
The shopkeeper frowned. "You better get better self control young man."
Remiel nodded, before looking at Vincent. "And I'm sorry for attacking you."
Vincent shook his head. "It was merely a mistake on your part. If you had injured this man, you would have known far worst pain and suffering, both physically and monetary. With this, your reputation and future would have been destroyed. I do not think that the Regent would give you mercy if he heard of your treatment to a commoner." Vincent peered over the where the shopkeeper stood. "And I believe that if this man was cut down, then a lot more would have risen and taken you down noble."
Remiel's eyes widened, before darkening with shame.
"I'm sorry . . ." Remiel rose up, and placed the pouch of gil into the shopkeeper's hand. "Take this as a token of apology. I'm at fault here."
Remiel took his rapier, as well as his dagger. He turned, and began to make his way out of the shop. The crowd itself made a pathway.
And at the frame of the door, he turned slightly. His attention was directed to the shopkeeper. This time, the rage in his eyes were gone, and a broken spirit was obviously overflowing from those eyes. "Is there any way for me to get that sword from you?"
The shopkeeper shook his head. "No, but there are a variety of swords and weapons that I can show you during the off-hours that may show interest."
Remiel shook his head. "No . . . that sword is beyond value. Anything else would be worthless in its place." The man then looked at Vincent. "I'm sorry for my own attack. You are correct, and my actions were immature, and could have proved fatal." Remiel gave a low bow to Vincent. "If you are ever in the Business District, come over to my residence in the area. You have saved me from true dishonor."
And with that, the man left.
---
The crowd had dispersed, but the shop had emptied. It seemed that the actions had caused more than enough trouble for the public, and keeping away from the scene of excitement was the cure for the trouble.
And because of this, Vincent and Nataku were left alone in the crowded weaponry items. And of course, this little reunion began.
Vincent looked at Nataku.
Nataku looked at Vincent.
Nataku smiled.
Vincent frowned.
"Yo, Vincent!"
Vincent felt the need to whack his head profusively now. But unfortunately, he couldn't.
"Huh . . . hello Nataku."
Nataku smiled. "Cool, you remembered my name!"
Vincent rolled his eyes.
Nataku smirked, before showing a cheeky smile. "And you're probably thinking, of course you damn bastard, after talking non-stop for hours!"
Vincent felt his eye twitch.
---
While this little . . . interaction was taking place, the shopkeeper was watching with some interest. There stood two men, one who showed the experience of a fighter, the other, the enthusiasm of a child. He looked back and forth, confused at first.
How did they know each other?
But his attention veered away from the unusual reunion of these two men, and he laid his eyes upon the sword.
His father had told him, that long ago, there was a man who had given his ancestor the sword. The sword itself was what represented a crucial factor of the man's life.
The man, who was thought to be the hero of ancient lore.
It was a clumsy looking blade, but if mastered, could cut down 5 men in one blow with the flick of the wrist. If truly taken and given to the hand of a skilled warrior, one could fly through the battlefield and cut down more than a quarter of the soldiers in the given group.
But that took true skill.
However, not only the skill of a warrior, but of a man with a calculated mind.
Such a blade was deadly, and yet beautiful all at once. Irregularly horrific, and uniquely elegant. One could say that it had too many opposing sides to possibly be considered one or the other.
And thus blade came into the hand of his ancestor.
And the man who had given his family the sword had told them of something rather interesting.
Besides the blade, the man had also given him a strange orb-like object. It was rather odd, and yet, rather beautiful as well. And the instruction was this. Upon keeping it in its given position, the orb would be fitted into the first slot of the blade. The second slot would remain empty.
The second slot was meant to be filled with another orb of the same color.
And no matter where his family had looked, no one could find a matching sphere.
That was, until now.
For on the red-cloaked man's wrist, was a bangle. And the bangle held a translucent green orb, showing a clear similarity to the orb in the sword.
He knew immediately.
This was the man.
And he approached.
---
Vincent saw the shopkeeper approaching, and remained silent, waiting for the man to speak. He readied himself for the questions that were waiting to come through. And perhaps, his expulsion from the store.
He had seen a rather interesting weapon that he wanted to purchase as Nataku began to talk of nonsense. And it would prove rather useful.
He went up to the shelf, and took it up. A slim and thin dagger, one that had a strap capable of adjusting to wrap around any arm/leg thickness. The sheathe itself was black, and the strap was of leather.
Perfect.
He turned to the shopkeeper, making the man jump back. He raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing in concern of the man's behavior. "I shall buy this."
The shopkeeper nodded, before going behind the counter. Vincent went up, taking up his wallet. He noticed the shopkeeper and Nataku eying the wallet, before taking up paper currency.
---
NOTE: I decided that if 1000 gil is still a coin-like currency, then 5,000 and up valued gil will be represented through that of a paper bill. That is all.
---
"One two-slice dagger. That'll be—" Vincent gave the correct amount before the man spoke it. He waited as the shopkeeper came out, giving him the paper and coin gil as change. However, he also noticed the man eying the materia in the bangle.
"Does this interest you?" Vincent asked, nodding at the bangle. He did not wish to reveal his claw arm again.
The shopkeeper nodded. "Yes, it's the same stone embedded in that sword." The shopkeeper pointed to the Buster sword, and Vincent's eyes followed.
Upon closer inspection, it was indeed true. One of the materia slots was filled with a green orb, while the other remained empty.
"Does this mean anything?" Vincent inquired.
The shopkeeper nodded. "Does the name, Strife, have any meaning to you?"
Vincent's eyes widened momentarily. He nodded.
The shopkeeper smiled. "Then please, come with me."
The shopkeeper came to the resting place of the sword, turning to Vincent. "This, was given to my father's father's father's . . . well . . . my great ancestor. And, it was given to him by a man who was known as a hero of the Planet. A man who had stopped someone bent on the destruction of this world."
The man brushed a hand against the hilt of the sword. "The strange orb has done something odd. It keeps it in place, locking it as is. I believe that the orb has a will of its own."
The shopkeeper pointed at the orb. "I believe that what you hold is the key. It is the identical color, shape, and obviously, holds the same qualities of this jewel. So if I'm correct, you need to insert a second key."
Vincent looked at the sword. It was once Cloud's, and instantly, he felt memories of the lost man in his mind. Remembering the man's hardships, torturous mind games and fragile soul, he only felt a pull to the sword.
Perhaps, the sword was calling to him.
Vincent nodded. "Cloud Strife . . . too long have I not heard his name . . ." Vincent went to use his left hand, pulling the orb from its given position. He looked at the orb. "To think his sword would be here . . . . ."
He gently placed the orb into the empty slot of the sword. And as if by signal, it became whole.
The first orb began to glow. The second followed. And before long, a strange feeling of power escaped from the sword. Vincent felt it, but remained still, as the shopkeeper, and Nataku annoyingly, had not.
Vincent felt hesitation. Was it right for him to take the sword? Did this sword want to be taken from it's place?
What if it wasn't meant to be in his possession?
"Just take the damn thing Vincent!" Vincent felt a prick of annoyance. But then again, Nataku was right, why hesitate?
With his human hand, he took hold of the hilt. His artificial hand held fast to the blade, and he lifted it.
He heard a click, and instantly, it came off from the prongs. For some strange reason, the sword itself was as light as a feather. Was it even heavy? Or was it merely his own bodily functions that allowed him to pull the sword away so easily?
"You . . . you truly are the one meant for it." Vincent turned to the shopkeeper. "All others have tried to take the sword from its place, but to no avail. Nothing could move it. In fact, this very wall had to be moved because the damn thing didn't want to budge from its place from the Industrial district."
Vincent nodded, before finding the special leather bindings that held the sword against the back. "What is the price for this sword?"
The shopkeeper's eyes widened. "No, this cannot have a price."
Vincent made a notion to reply, but the shopkeeper stopped him. "This sword isn't meant to have a value, and if it moves for you, its yours. And besides, I finally have space for the dagger rack that my wife's been complaining about, so you've done me a favor!"
The man chuckled, before shaking his head and turning away. "You have a good day sir, and I wish you luck!"
Vincent was questioning the last words of the man. "Of what?"
The man smirked. "The man who held that sword before you told my ancestor something. You've been traveling for a long time, and you still need it for what's to come. That's all."
---
Upon securing the sword, Vincent found a funny discovery. Due to his tall nature, the sword itself could hide beneath his cloak. So that meant that no one could see it unless the cloak blew away from his body, showing it within the cloak folds. While Cloud had his sword upon his back, it seemed to be larger than his own body, making it difficult to hide. That was probably the reason why he had created the seven piece sword.
"So . . . where you going now?"
That voice had once more pierced his thoughts.
Vincent turned to a smiling Nataku, frowning behind crimson collar. "Do you not have business elsewhere?"
Nataku nodded his head. "Well, I'm going to the South Gate later, have to take a trip back. But not now, I have to get something to eat."
That was right, it was becoming dark, which meant that supper wasn't for long.
If he had estimated it right, then the others would be awake in less than an hour.
"A piece for your thoughts?" Vincent looked at Nataku. "That long barrel really helped, especially against that Zaghnol huh?"
Vincent felt something tighten. He remained silent.
"Well, considering your ability, it's amazing, and you have better accuracy than my previous customers." Nataku was in thought. His eyes brightened at some unknown realization. "Oh, that's right! I almost forgot!" He went back into his bag, before pulling up a package. "For you!"
Vincent looked at it. Another set of magazines. He then looked back at Nataku.
Nataku was gone.
Vincent shook his head. The child might be young, and foolish, but there was something else about him.
But what?
And what previous customers?
With these thoughts, he made his way back to the Regent's tower, in hopes that he may find answers as time passed by.
And for him, time passed by very quickly.
---
End of Chapter VIII.
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A/N: Now I know, you're probably wonder, why the hell does Vincent have the sword?
Well, it connects to what's to come in the future. AND, I just love the fact that they make connections like that from one Final Fantasy to another. It makes me smile to remember this rather interesting fact. And it's been about . . . 2 years since I finished playing the game altogether . . . X3 Yep, great times, great times.
And yes, Nataku's back, but only for a short time. X3 Now, how shall HE be placed into all of this you all must wonder . . . XD
As I have almost forgotten, I'm answering the reviews of anonymous reviewers right below!
Nowhere Man: Thanks a lot, and Sashi/Reiko's doing great! X3
Yuffie Kisaragi123: Heh, college my friend? X3 I'm going after this summer, so yea! But anyways, don't get caught, and I hope you enjoyed this story as well. And yes, Reiko, or rather, Sashi is doing fantastic! XD
Selbiene Raveren: I know, I shouldn't have made him sneer. Perhaps squint, but that's probably it. XD
dxp: Well, we shall see. But Vincent's pretty good at adjusting, but some surprises may hold more than he can stand. X3
That's all, and I hope you enjoyed this "filler" chapter!
Sincerely,
Kuro