28

The silver threads of the gravity spell were almost undistinguishable from the natural and artificial lights shifting throughout the crystal pillar. Crossing the reinforced lattice structure of interconnecting bridges, Lightning encompassed the winding roads with tense observation, noting the conspicuous lack of Cie'th and thinning wisps of dust with the increasing elevation.

In the midst of the mid-afternoon rays, tremors ousted the bitter gales from their prominent occurrence, climbing the spine of Cocoon's foundation and bringing down scatterings of stalactite slivers. The base and foot of the pillar would endure the brunt of the shuddering force, as the catacombs therein experienced the most detriment and weight of the Cie'th swarms. Debating how to counter the predicament had resulted in a second division of paths; Serah took to retracing their steps in order to retrieve Hope from the threat upon him, while Lightning continued to the Oerban's chamber.

She had imbued the survival knife with a blizzard spell, capable of immobilizing any foe that came within a five foot radius of Serah, yet reluctance still curdled her conscience. Even though the situation was far from their favour, the former soldier warred with the notion of allowing another of her wards to brave the labyrinth alone. All the same, the glow of the pillar's strength remained halved, and their proximity to their destination had fuelled Serah's insistence for her to clear the final stretch of obstacles before them.

With a leap and a somersault, the former soldier alighted on the crinkled edge of a paralyzed tide, mapping out a route to the cluster of crevices that led to the column's core. The hollow nostalgia of distant, roaming Wyverns did not hold so much as a wick to the chance, the slightest glimmer of hope before her, that she would hear her voice, strong and clear.

The search for answers was wavering as her guiding motivation, evolving into a smouldering determination that hearkened back to the strides preceding the prevention of widespread massacre and bent fate to her design.

Her will unrestrained, Lightning pressed on. Unless perceived otherwise, the lifeblood of the malicious influence that dared to compromise the martyred heart of the structure would bathe the blade of the saber.


Hope retied the kerchief around his left wrist as the cure spell faded from his right leg, leaving no trace of the gash in its wake. His thanks to Vanille was delayed as he scrambled to keep up with her pace, unsure whether to be glad or wary of the pent-up energy from her stasis. The catacombs had branched out into a passage pocked with frozen air capsules, the walls on each side shaped into protrusions resembling a misaligned ribcage. Through here, they sought to leave the recurring, rattling shivers that afflicted the pillar at their heels.

Nearly stumbling into the amiable Oerban, Hope tried to ignore the unsettling development. "Do you think we're any closer?" he asked her, disliking the downward slope of the floor.

"Well..." Vanille wondered aloud, meandering in a semi-circle before she crouched down near the uneven wall to her left, pressing both palms and the side of her head upon it.

The silver-haired teen frowned at the sudden sense of a change in temperature radiating from the tunnel, as though a warm breeze or the heat released from a hearth had overcome imprisonment within the structure. However, the subsequent exchange prompted him to recall Alexander's rumbling greeting earlier in the day.

Vanille gave a flustered sigh, "Yes, yes, I know we didn't start on the right foot, but Brynhildr, I'll never bother you ever again if you give us one tiny little indication of how far Light and Serah are from us...?"

After a handful of seconds flew by and the essence of the Eidolon's attention subsided, Vanille returned to her feet, "Away we go!" she smiled, gesturing to a cavern that curved into a system of burrows, all flanked by crystal panes gazing at the horizon. Somewhat comforted that his friend retained the traits that did not cease to amaze him, Hope ran alongside her, soon broaching the foremost thought on his mind.

"So," he said, "What did it take to come out of... you know."

"The Steppe fal'Cie had a part in it," she told him, "He went on about how I had to 'reclaim my place in the balance of life'. I only started to really listen when he said I should 'heed the tidings of my comrade'." Scuffing her heels over the banks of crystal dust, she went on, "But I've been doing that for months, now."

The tint of colour drained from Hope's face as the Cie'th wail pierced the tunnel. It was not the shriek itself that incited the pair to track it - rather, its transition from a vicious to frightened sent them jogging down the Eidolon's advised path.

Deprived of their earlier hunt, the penanggalan had taken to the prospect of new quarry with reckless vigour. The cost of their desire for prey was strewn about the wide tunnel in two different states. Those farthest from their target had met an icy demise, whereas those who had flown closer currently lay crushed beneath the very stalactites their razor wings had dislodged.

Realizing the identity of their intended prey, Vanille's expression lapsed into short-lived shock before she seized the hilt of her weapon, pinning the aerial Cie'th with a dire glare.

"I've had it with these rotten old ghastlies!" she declared, brandishing the binding rod. She flung the wires at the poison-spewing penanggalan that lurched towards Serah, fastening the four hooks into the fiend's granite fringe and sent it bowling into the formation of its accomplices.

Bringing in the wires, she sped up the Alicanto and Hawkeye's flight with an aero spell, giving the boomerangs enough force to concuss two of the fiends and throw the remaining trio on a collision course with a grounded stalactite, under which half a dozen of their crystallized accomplices lay.

Catching the returning boomerangs, Hope approached Serah as she picked her way around the hillocks of corpses. Holstering the binding rod, Vanille felt the urge to wilt under a lingering sense of shame and stood apart from the two.

"How did you even manage to get the drop on them?" the younger Farron asked Hope, concern assailing her gratitude as her eyes fell upon Hope's ally.

"We sneaked, but that's not what I..." Vanille began, wringing her wrists, "You see, I've been meaning to tell you - properly, this time-"

She flinched when Serah took hold of her hands, willing herself to look up to the compassionate face of the once-stranger who had lent an ear to her worries.

"What matters is that you're safe," the younger Farron said. "You've already apologized, and if it weren't for you and Fang, we would never have the family that we do now." With a gentle smile, she added, "Besides, if you're ever feeling scared, or trying to run from something, you can count on us to be there for you."

At the sign of Vanille attempting to gulp back tears, the silver-haired teen placed a hand on her shoulder. "I might as well be trying to flood the Steppe." The amiable Oerban sniffled, earning a bemused look from Hope.

"Yeah," he explained, scratching the back of his neck, "About that. Titan beat you to it."

Vanille's wide-eyed astonishment gave way to peals of laughter, which soon befell Hope and Serah, as well. "He would do just that, wouldn't he?" she giggled, "I never saw him as one for-"

A thunderous shudder struck the pillar and almost brought the adolescents to their knees. Fractures crawled across the ceiling as the adolescents hurried to the wall of the tunnel, staying as close to it as possible.

"Where's Light in all of this?" the amiable Oerban inquired, her heart racing even as the worst of the quake ran its course.

"She went ahead," Serah informed them, "The tremors weren't as bad, where we were."

Hope spoke, considering the positive angle, "She must've met up with Fang by now."

At this, Vanille clapped her hands together, "Ha! That's... Oh," as her initial joy was withered by realization, "Not good."

The younger Farron paled, though Hope refused to accept the ill-boding words as they were, "What do you mean, by that?" he questioned, his voice laden with dread.

Vanille's response was dissonant with the cloudless sky, peering through the wall behind them.

"When Fang and I were in the chamber, the ground wasn't all that far below us. Problem is, it was so thin... I had to crawl my way out of there, but with this going on, I'm not sure if it'll be strong enough to be there for Fang."

With the arrival of another tremor, the cracks in the ceiling multiplied, spreading closer to the trio. Taking a breath, Serah turned to her allies, "We'll have to get to them from the outside," she proposed, "There were a couple fissures along the way I came - we've got what we need to stay on our feet, and tangle with those awful creatures, when it comes to that."

Beaming expressions confirmed Vanille and Hope's agreement, in which Serah revived her previous sprint and led the two along the winding tunnel.

As if spurred on by the rush of air that seeped in through the fractures, Vanille laughed, "I guess it doesn't have to happen just once in your life."

"What's that?" Hope asked, puzzled.

"Saving them!" she clarified, her mirth extinguished once more as, four feet behind them, the ceiling collapsed.

Covering their eyes from the gritty shower of dust, the trio backed away from the pile of frosted shards as spasms wracked the form of the forsaken soul, pierced by countless slivers. In the haze of dust, Hope and Serah assumed the bulky appearance to be that of a nelapsi. However, Vanille's vice-like grip on their wrists and insistence to run even faster was all that preceded the tell-tale screech of the seeker Cie'th.

"Normally, we'd love to make acquaintances," the amiable Oerban yelled over her shoulder, "But in this case... Ciao!"