Cloud's Reminiscence

I headed to the inn. The sun was setting behind it to the west – the tall spires of the Nibel Mountains were slicing into the light, casting long straight shadows towards the town.

An MP stood outside of the inn, not on patrol. "What's up?" I asked him.

"Man," MPs always had to raise their voices to talk through their cloth masks. "I'm nervous."

"Nervous?" I asked.

"Uhh, dragons! Aren't you?"

I laughed. "I'm excited."

The MP cocked his head at me. Then he shifted the semi-aut in his hands and rolled his shoulders. I couldn't see his face, but he took a less friendly tone. "…Right. Don't blow your chance to become a hometown hero."

I moved inside.

The main floor of the inn had a staircase leading up the right wall. A small, unoccupied desk was between the stairs and a short hallway into the dining room.

I headed there. Inside, a stranger leaned back in a wooden chair with his bare feet on the table – crossed at the ankles. An old guy – fifties maybe – with tied back grey hair and a red cape.

'What the hell?' I thought. He wasn't a townsperson – I didn't recognize him.

He lifted a mug of beer as if to greet me.

I had no interest in him. 'I thought we were supposed to have the run of this place.'

The innkeeper was behind the bar. Roger Innsman. The inn had been in his family since… since before they had a family name, I guess.

I turned my back on the stranger and took a seat at the bar. It was weird, knowing that he would give me whatever I asked for, just because I was with Shinra. Two years prior, he laughed at me and told me to shoo on home.

"Whiskey," I said. "Over ice."

"Of course," Mr. Innsman said.

He made the drink quick and slid it to me. No one ever slid me anything on a bar before. I almost didn't catch it.

I brought the short glass up to my nose. I wasn't ready for whiskey back then. But I took my first sip of the stuff – it was like acid in my mouth. I managed to cover my face so that Mr. Innsman couldn't see my reaction.

"Is Shinra here to get rid of the monsters?" the stranger asked behind me.

I turned around. "How do you know I'm with Shinra?"

The stranger raised his glass again. "You're wearing the uniform, son."

He was right, I suppose. The First Class SOLDIER uniform is traditionally combat gear of deep indigo. But no one around these parts would be able to tell on sight what a First Class SOLDIER looked like – even in uniform. It wasn't every day I was recognized – even in Nibelheim, it seemed.

"Who's asking?" I stood and faced the man, who still had his feet propped up on the table.

"Have a seat, and I'll tell you all about it."

I went over. The table was a large wheel of brown-red wood, with enough space to put my whiskey down far away from his feet. I sat to his left.

"I'm Zangan," he made no move to shake my hand. "I'm a tutor."

"You work at the schoolhouse?"

He laughed. "I'm a private tutor."

"Oh. What do you teach?"

"The martial arts. I specialize in unarmed combat."

'Fighting without a weapon?' I thought, but I asked instead, "How busy does that keep you?"

"I have one hundred and twenty eight students around the world," Zangan said cheerfully. "That keeps me mighty busy. I travel more than anything else. I try to have as many pupils as I can in each town, but in Nibelheim I only have the one. Usually, one student – even a talented one – isn't enough for me to make the trip, but the mayor here makes sure it's worth my time."

"The mayor is paying for the lessons?" I asked. "Who is it?"

"His daughter."

"His daughter? Mayor Lockhart's daughter?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. "Her name's Tifa. She has good sense – she'll be a powerful fighter. But who knows with kids, in a moment, they might decide to do some other damn fool thing."

I took a small sip of the whiskey, even though it burned my tongue.

"I would like to see some Shinra techniques," Zangan said. "All the fancy weaponry – guns, magic – it wasn't around when I was mastering the arts. I would see if I can incorporate some of your techniques into my teachings, or at least show my pupils how to defend themselves against them."

"Defend against Shinra?" I asked. "There's no need."

He laughed. "I hope you're right."

"I am right. Now that the war is over, SOLDIER is completely devoted to preserving peace and justice, all over the world."

Zangan smiled. "Of course."

I took the rest of my whiskey in one large gulp. My chest felt hot shortly afterward. "Are you staying at the inn?" I asked.

He nodded. "What do you say?"

"What do I say to what?"

"My inquiry. I would observe you and your party. I would accompany you on your adventure."

I refused. "No tourists on the mission."

"Tourist?" Zangan laughed. "Boy, I could crush you like a bug."

"You're welcome to try," I shot back.

"You should reconsider," Zangan warned. "You could learn a thing or two from travelling with me."

"I know enough."

Someone walked into the inn – another townsperson, wearing suspenders and a brown tie. Augustus Swiftfoot hung his hat on a rack near the door, heading into the dining room. "A beer, Roger," he called.

Mr. Swiftfoot's family were long-time couriers. His son left Nibelheim the same year I did, but I never ran into him.

Mr. Swiftfoot was holding a camera. He owned the general store, so he had access to a lot of the new technology in town before everyone else. I had seen handheld cameras in Midgar and Junon, but this was the first in Nibelheim.

"I heard Sephiroth was here," Mr. Swiftfoot said. "So I got my camera ready."

"Whoa. Sephiroth is here?" Zangan took his feet off the table.

I stood up. "Return to your home. It's dangerous."

Mr. Swiftfoot mumbled something like "All right." He turned to go, then paused. then he paused. "Cloud?" he asked. "Cloud Strife?"

He used my father's name. I don't even know where my father got a last name like that.

"Yeah," I said. "Long time, Mr. Swiftfoot."

"Little Cloud. Damn, eh? So that's how it is." Swiftfoot sat at the table – Zangan didn't seem to mind. "You've grown up to be a nice looking lad."

I shrugged. "Then take my picture."

Zangan laughed – a single, boisterous, "Hah!"

Mr. Swiftfoot took me seriously. "Hey, now that's not such a bad idea! Our own hometown hero with the great Sephiroth. Let's do it."

Was he being sarcastic? But, "Sure. We're heading out at first light tomorrow. For now, it is dangerous, so you should return home before it gets too dark out."

"Sheesh!" Mr. Swiftfoot left, muttering to himself. His tankard had just arrived on the bar.

"What's the big idea?" Mr. Innsman scowled at me. "You're killing my business!"

I took the beer. "Charge the mayor's office." I put it down in front of Zangan. "This is in recompense for my refusal. If it were up to me, I'd say the more the merrier. But Sephiroth is rarely afforded privacy, especially when he's working."

Zangan nodded. "I get it. Sephiroth, eh?" He whistled.

I headed upstairs.

Sephiroth was standing in the hallway outside of our room. He was looking out the windows to the west. I glanced out of them. No monsters in sight.

"What are you looking at?" I asked him.

"The scenery," he replied. "I feel like I know this place."

The sun was now fully behind the Nibel mountains. The peaks were scariest after a storm, when the light was red behind them and they reached black and pointed into the sky, still glistening with rain like swords on a battlefield. The bay separated the Nibel valley from the land further west – all was cast in the same dusky light. A chocobo skirted across the plains.

One of the MPs came up the stairs and headed into the room.

Sephiroth looked at an old clock near the door to our suite. "We'll have an early start. We should get some rest soon."

I took that to mean it was time to sleep now. I started into the room, but he stopped me with a small hand gesture.

"Whiskey?" he raised an eyebrow.

Did he smell it?

I felt so guilty. It wasn't like that. I wanted to say something, but all I said was. "See you tomorrow."

"I'm not going to wake you up," he said to the scenery.

Sun rose through the mountains to the east, hitting my face through the windows of the inn. I pulled my eyes open. I sprang out of bed in the empty room.

'Late!?' I cursed, and pulled on my clothes.

…I had both pauldrons back then. I wonder what happened to that other one.

I ran out of the inn into the town square. There was no one near the mayor's house, nor mine – but on the wide stairs leading up the hill to the north – Augustus Swiftfoot!

I tore up the stairs past him. "Hey!" he shouted instinctively. He almost dropped his camera.

The stairs ended at a wide, rocky plateau. The town continued its slow crawl up out of the valley and into the mountains.

My party was not far ahead. Sephiroth was walking with the mayor. The MPs tailed behind, searching the skies and the alleys.

They stopped at the base of the old mansion. Nobody lived there anymore. They say it belonged to the Shinra family once, but as long as I could remember it was abandoned.

Haunted, some kids said.

The mansion was surrounded by a rusted fence made of thin iron bars. Barbed wire lined the top of the fence, but the gate's lock had rusted off long ago. The building was a grey, ghostly wood that sagged from the rain and the years. Tall spires reached from its steep rooves, mimicking the Nibel mountains that loomed beyond the buttresses and parapets.

Sephiroth regarded the mansion. I arrived panting.

"Once the guide gets here, we're heading out," Sephiroth said at the mansion.

"Now, Sephiroth," the mayor insisted. "In case something happens—"

"Trust me," Sephiroth said at the mansion.

"It'll be all right, dad!" said a girl catching up with us. "I have two men from SOLDIER with me."

She was a bit shorter than me, in brown hiking boots, skirt, vest, and a wide-brimmed farmer hat. She had dark russet hair that went almost to her waist. And…

She held out her hand to Sephiroth. "I'm Tifa. Nice to meet you!"

"Tifa!" I blurted out. "You're the guide?"

She put her hands defensively on her hips. "I just happen to be the number one guide in this town. You shouldn't judge someone by their age."

That wasn't what I…

I didn't say anything in response.

"Mayor Lockhart," Sephiroth smiled at him. "Beyond here the town ends, correct?"

"That's right," Tifa's father replied.

Sephiroth furrowed his eyebrows. "Then you should probably head back, there are still monsters around."

The mayor nodded. "Of course."

Sephiroth's brows furrowed some more.

Mr. Lockhart left us there, but Mr. Swiftfoot was running up to us. "Sephiroth! Please let me take one picture for a memento!"

Sephiroth didn't look enthusiastic about it.

"Tifa," Mr. Swiftfoot pleaded. "Will you ask him for me too?"

Tifa struck a pose for the camera. "Come on, boys!" she laughed.

We joined in – Sephiroth didn't smile, but he stood still and rested his wrist gently on the hilt of the Masamune. I knew he was posing a little.

"Cheese!" urged Mr. Swiftfoot.

I didn't expect the flash to be so bright. I must be light sensitive or something. It hurt, I mean, physically hurt. It hurts even thinking about it.

Sephiroth was already walking away by the time my focus cleared. His white hair waved like a thick cloak behind him.

One of the MPs shooed Mr. Swiftfoot away. "All right, you got what you came for."

The mayor turned and went back to town. He kept looking back over his shoulder.

Sephiroth walked beside Tifa, speaking forward. "I will be talking about classified Shinra information during our time together. I must ask you to swear that you will not repeat what you hear today."

"I swear," Tifa didn't skip a beat.

"Excellent," Sephiroth gestured along the east wing of the mansion, where an enormous stone chimney rose from the ground like a round tower. "This was owned by the Shinra family?"

"Yes," Tifa said. "Until they discovered mako. I have a whole tourism speech about it, but it's nothing you won't find on a pamphlet at the inn, and we have some more interesting things to see. Come on."

She led us north into a long inclining path. Rocky outcrops soon covered the shrinking view of Nibelheim.

As soon as that happened, Sephiroth said, "Stop."

Tifa turned.

"I would like you to take me to the hatchery," he said.

"The fish hatchery?" Tifa asked. "That's a bit out of our way."

"I'm altering our way."

Tifa shook her head. "There's only one safe way to Wyrmshead Peak, if we go to the hatchery, we have to come all the way back here before we start again."

"Life only ever moves forward."

Tifa had to think about that one.

Sephiroth smiled. "Are there any further objections, based on your knowledge of the region?"

"On the way back from the reactor, we'll lose the light," she said plainly. "Dragons can see in the dark."

Sephiroth replied, "So can we."

Tifa didn't react as positively to that as I had hoped. She kind of cringed, like she tasted something bad. I didn't say anything.

Sephiroth turned to the west – the path led behind the Shinra Mansion. Then it wound back north into the mountains before curving back west at some unseen point.

"Shall we go?" Sephiroth asked.

Tifa smiled demurely. "Of course."

We headed down the new path – it wound us away from the valley and northward. I breathed in the cold air of the Nibel Mountains. It hadn't changed at all…

The path twisted around jagged grey spikes of hard stone. We were soon so immersed in the mountains that every direction looked like an endless array of monstrous thorns.

Tifa stopped at the crest of a large hill. Ahead were the falls and the hatchery, but she turned to face the way we came. She gestured to the landscape.

"If you stand at this exact spot," she gestured. "You can see the Corel Mountains, just between those eastern peaks. See how different they look from the Nibel Mountains? There's an old legend that says that the West Continent was once three different islands, until a great Titan pushed the top two together. That created the brown Corel Mountains and the black Nibel Mountains."

"What happened to the third piece?" Sephiroth asked.

"The Titan tried to pull it up, but Mount Nibel stabbed him. He died just north of here. That's why the Great River separates Nibel from the south."

"Is there a skull of the Titan?" I asked.

"Close enough," she pointed. "There's a mountain with eye holes. But that's good enough for me."

It did look kind of like a skull.

One of the MPs said, "I heard seeing a skull was a bad omen."

"The universe doesn't work like that," Sephiroth replied, but he gazed at the Titanshead with a look of worry.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He didn't say anything.