Cloud's Reminiscence

I never heard of this hatchery. I knew there were fishermen who went to the falls, but there wasn't anything about a fish hatchery in my memory of Nibel.

I don't even think I knew what one was.

The falls came from a high, black peak – it shot up from within the caves of the Nibel Mountains. They called it an 'aquarift.' The cliff face was steep and foreboding. Jagged spikes stabbed through the waterfall, blanketing the large plateau with a fine mist. Most of the water splashed into the north end of the pool, but the air was wet and the cold bit a little harder.

Along the southern curve of the pool, the water was less tumultuous. It flowed steadily down towards the bay.

At harvest time, nibelfish would spawn in the pool – it was said that their eggs glowed in the moonlight, but I'd never been to see.

It was crowded – some people came from town to fish, and some people lived in smaller houses nearby.

"There seem to be two camps at this pool," Sephiroth thought. "We'll split up and investigate. The guide – Tifa was it?"

She nodded, her smile broadening.

"You'll be with me."

Then Sephiroth told me the basic questions we needed to ask these people. We were to meet at the other end of the pool in an hour.

Sephiroth took Tifa and one of the MPs with him around the north end of the pool, into a crowd of fishermen standing ankle-deep in the water. A huge rock face loomed above them – a few steep paths led up into the mountains. Some were ancient and marred by rockslides.

I headed around the southern curve of the pool, to the place where the water continued down towards the ocean. The sun was still coming up behind the mountains and the stream was flickering, thin trees peppering its banks. There was a bridge at the summit, and guys with nets. No one was fishing over here.

I walked up to a person not doing anything. "Hi!" I said.

I had Sephiroth's questions firmly in my mind, but this was a chance to do some investigating of my own.

"Oh," he said. "Hello."

"Pretty cold for September," I smiled.

"You're tellin' me, pal… That is one hell of a sword."

"Thanks. I'm a hunter."

"Is that so?"

"It is. And you fish?"

He laughed. "No, I hatch."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

I shrugged. "I have no idea what that means."

He laughed. "Nor did many of us, before a year ago. Some folks have been here for decades on, but they were always the hermit type."

"What's with the sudden industry boom?"

"Mayor Lockhart," said the hatcher. "Since the monsters started appearing, the nibelfish have had twice as many predators. We're here to make sure they get to the lake so they can lay their eggs."

I thought that was really cool.

"Anyhow, as I said, there were already some folks doing it on their own, so we joined teams and built a small settlement just yon. We could use a hunter."

"I'm just passing through, but if I see a monster I'll kill it for you. You seen any yet?"

That was the first question Sephiroth wanted me to ask.

The hatcher shook his head.

"I saw one," a woman nearby lifted a net out of the water. Inside was a foul crab. She dumped the crab into a bucket of water beside the pool.

"You did?" I asked.

She nodded. Her eyes darkened. "About six months back. It came in the night – the makonoid. Almost human, but discoloured – glowing like a ghost – and howling, howling as if it were a… It's head… I can't describe to you its ugliness."

"Where is it now?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I'm no hunter. I fled."

"Is that the only incident?"

"Not by a long shot."

"How many have there been?"

That was the second question Sephiroth wanted me to ask.

"Well most people quit after they have an encounter. In a year, let me see… thirty-some-odd people have quit so around that number. I don't talk to the fishermen," she glared across the way, where Sephiroth was chatting with a few men. "But I can assume they've seen the makonoids too. Unless…" she stopped. "Hold on. You don't think the monsters are attacking us because we're trying to save the fish, do you?"

"I doubt it," I said. "But I'm just passing through."

"Sure you won't stay for a day or so?" she asked. "We'll feed ya."

"I should be going," I insisted. "But I will make sure to run into as many monsters as possible on the way out. Which way do they typically come from?"

That was the third and final question.

She pointed north, and upwards.

I followed her finger. The mountains looked like a million clashing swords rising up above us. The water trickled down from the aquarift, but beyond, just a little higher, was Wyrmshead Peak.

The mountain looked like the horned head of a dragon. Nestled between the two tallest spires was the original mako reactor – a huge complex with pipes exploding out of the building and stabbing into the ash-gray rock of the mountain around the complex.

"We're going there?"

I was more or less accepted by the hatchers, who all seemed desperate for a mercenary. I wore the mantle of a travelling do-gooder. Their answers to my questions were all rich with detail.

Some of the monsters sounded pretty bad. Hovering six-foot tall worms, with eight eyes and needle-pointed tentacles. The green dragon had been here a week ago – most of the hatchery's deserters left after that night's attack.

As of yet, only one or two claimed to have seen the makonoids, but that didn't stop everyone else from talking about them at length.

Eventually I met up with Tifa, and Sephiroth, who asked me what I had learned. I told him everything. I think I was word-perfect.

He watched the water while I told him the story. The pool-water was clear and full of darting nibelfish. When I finished, he pinched his chin thoughtfully. "The mayor funds them, you say?"

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

Sephiroth laughed to himself. "No."

"What did you find out?" I asked.

Sephiroth gestured widely to the north bank. "The fishermen are upset at the hatchers. Apparently fishing here has been a traditional pastime in Nibel for generations, but recently – the last few decades – hermits have been trying to stop the fishing activities. Until this year, there were only a few and they could be ignored, but obviously, more hatchers means increased tension, and now is spawning season, which is making it worse. This is the best time of year to fish, but the hatchers are making a louder protest, and they have set up a camp nearby… Strange that the mayor would fund a hatchery but continue to allow unrestricted fishing."

Tifa shrugged. "Maybe he wants to reduce the predators so that there will be enough for the fishermen. It explains why he didn't do anything in the twenty years before the monsters came."

Sephiroth stopped, and regarded Tifa with the most curious expression. "We are talking about your father."

"So?"

Sephiroth turned his gaze back to the water. "It's likely that banning a beloved tradition on account of fish welfare is political suicide, but we came here to learn about the monsters foremost. The stories the fishermen told seem to correlate with the hatchers. Monsters typically come from the mountains to the north, at night, and vary from aggressive wildlife to dangerous monsters to dragons. An unusually aggressive greatbird – the zuu – has attacked people on the road back to Nibelheim. One fisherman claims to have seen a makonoid, and his description matches the mayor's. I also found out other things."

"Other things?"

"Things that only interest me."

I wonder if he was telling the truth. He very well could have been. It was just as likely he was hiding something, but you could never tell.

"Is that what we came here for?" Tifa asked. "We came all the way out here so you could fact-check my father's story?"

"I'm a curious sort," Sephiroth replied. "Shall we go? We'll be back through Nibelheim before lunch."

We went back around the south, and Sephiroth couldn't help but stop and ask people some more questions. I don't remember what they were, they didn't seem to be all that relevant to what we were trying to accomplish.

At one point, he was talking to a hatcher – looking up at the top of the aquarift, when he suddenly announced. "It is limestone."

"Sorry?" asked the hatcher.

"Oh, never mind. Thank you for talking to me," Sephiroth began to walk suddenly back towards Nibelheim.

We hurried to catch up. The pool disappeared around a pale, jagged stone spike.

"Sephiroth?" Tifa caught up with him before I did. "What's that? What's limestone?"

"The Nibel Mountain region," he said. "It's made of limestone. I could not see it at first and was wracking my brain at the answer as to what mineral it could be if not limestone, but then the answer came to me that it must be petrified – and the Nibel rains have sculpted it into all of those sharp-sided pinnacles."

I wondered, "How do you know so much about a type of rock?"

Sephiroth tapped his temple. "The most vital organ is the brain."

Fair enough.

"So you're saying that the Nibel Mountains are a terrifying labyrinth of doom because they get wet?" Tifa asked. "I knew that earth and water were opposite elements, but that's extreme."

Sephiroth furrowed his brow. "I do not think earth and water are as opposite as you think. After all, limestone is made primarily from very old seashells. The rock formation that makes up this entire region was formed underwater."

Tifa shook her head. "What… does this have to do with the monsters?"

Sephiroth sighed. "Nothing. Some things truly interest me alone."

We came around a bend and saw the Titanshead – now lit with almost a full day's light – the eye holes looked starkly black.

Tifa hummed. "So let me get this straight – a bunch of seashells killed the great Titan?"

Sephiroth laughed quietly. "You can't possibly believe the legend… can you?"

Tifa shrugged. "I believe what I want. I don't care what Shinra says."

Sephiroth kept laughing. "Of course."

Tifa laughed too.

Sephiroth smiled, like a thought had just occurred to him. "Guide, you have earned my trust," he said plainly.

She beamed. "Whoa. People should say that more often."

We spotted the zuu circling the sky above. The bird's black feathers were each as long as me. It could swallow any of us whole.

Sephiroth closed his eyes, and a single green materia glowed in his sword.

As if yesterday's storm had been saving its strength for one last gasp, the clouds above the zuu darkened and rumbled.

Sephiroth opened his eyes and watched his work.

A lightning bolt was forged in a tall fist of clouds. It cracked down earthbound – striking the bird mid-flight. The zuu made no scream or twitch when the lightning passed through it on the way to the ground. The wings froze and the bird plummeted, crashing into a long row of spiky rock. If it had survived the spell, it was surely dead now.

Tifa watched the glow of Sephiroth's materia fade. "That's… that's impossible."

The skies returned to normal. Sephiroth tapped his temple again. "With a mind that's focused and a heart that's true, all things are possible."

Tifa led us along the back of the Shinra Mansion's great acreage. We turned upon our original path – north, into the peaks.

The ascent was long. Lesser peaks dropped away from us. At first, a few short spikes, only as wide as a car. Then, as the path wound, whole mountains with hundreds of pinnacles. Behind us, Nibelheim looked like a toy house.

The air thinned. Sephiroth broke for a rest a few times – it was a courtesy to Tifa, even though she said she didn't need it. It was the early afternoon before we got to the bridge.

"Wyrmshead Peak is the tallest peak of Mount Nibel," Tifa explained. "This bridge will lead us up almost to the top. It's old though, so be mindful of your footing. Just watch how I do it and you should be fine."

Ahead, the mountain path we were on dropped away into a chasm too deep to see the bottom. A stone's throw away was the vertical face of Mount Nibel, peppered with spikes.

A rickety old wooden suspension bridge led from the edge of our path up to the peak – the bridge was at an impossible angle, almost straight up.

Sephiroth strode onto the bridge. A wind whistled up through the chasm and his hair flickered behind him like a long cape.

Tifa went onto the bridge at a near-run. I chased her.

No.

Wait.

I was in front.

Sorry.

I was the one who was keyed up. A climb like this was an adventure waiting to happen.

The incline began easily enough. The mountain path I had been on dropped away. The hundreds of pinnacles looked like a briar patch, cutting up through a haze of cold mist beneath the wooden boards. Ahead, the incline became so steep that Sephiroth was completely above me.

"It gets harder from here," Tifa warned.

I needed to hold the rope handrails. They were old. Frayed.

The boards creaked underneath me. They were tied together with ropes as well. I wanted to ask how long it had been since they built this, but I didn't want to know the answer, so I didn't say anything.

I pulled myself up along the incline. Flecks of dust drifted out between my fingers every time I grabbed the rope. Sometimes, enough of it would crumble that my hand would slip.

"The bridge—" Tifa started.

I heard a loud cracking noise. The rope in my left hand became limp and I almost lost my footing.

I grabbed harder with my right hand and steadied myself.

The bridge wobbled. Even Sephiroth stumbled.

Successive snapping sounds happened all around me. The boards under my feet were coming loose.

I looked up at the top. We'd never make it.

I looked back at where we came. We'd never make it.

We bobbed up and down for a brief moment. Sephiroth crouched low and held on to the boards.

A final dooming snap broke the bridge in two.

We all fell.

I tried to grab for Tifa but my stomach lurched and I tumbled away from her.

I heard the two sides of the bridge slap against the walls of the canyon – above me.

I fell for an impossibly long time. When I hit, everything went black