Aeris Gainsborough was the last Cetra. Until she wasn't any longer.
Vivid and strange, the world abruptly smaller, quieter and peaceful. She still breathed (inhale, exhale), still knelt at the edge of the dirt mound in the broken church in Sector Five. The preceding sensation came again; a sense of pressure, her ears popping as a wave of something passed over her. Her head spun and the room threatened to pitch her to the floor. A sensation of freezing cold the length of her spine, a warming heat in her cheeks, the air abruptly too hot around her. The second occurence was as short as the first, fading away leaving her with a light and inexplicable sweat.
But she was different now. The whispering voice of the Planet diminished and faded to nothing. The surge of Lifestream energy she coaxed into the flower mound was gone. Or perhaps not gone; perhaps she could simply no longer sense it. Silence. No, not silence. The distant sound of wind through the shattered remains of Midgar. The distant drips of burst pipes and falling water. Faint stirrings of scavengers – both human and inhuman – out in the surrounding sectors. But so little in her head.
She was empty. Those strange quirks and those things seemingly making her something more than human were gone. Her mother's voice was gone. Would the flowers suffer? Could they continue to grow without her influence? A minor concern right now. The Last Cetra was no more – and the Cetra cared for the Planet. She did what she could but at such a small scale. Hard to do anything more when there was only one of her.
No one had ever said anything, but the thought remained; she was the only one who might be able to prolong the Cetra race. Not an appealing idea. Some likely thought her selfish for not becoming a mother, but she was not ready – might not ever be ready – to parent. Was it possible she was no longer required? A weight lifted. No. It would not do to get ahead of things. All she could be certain of was she could no longer hear the Planet – and her skill with plants would reside on a much more mundane ability than before. This might be temporary; influenced by the movement of tectonic plates, an eclipse on the other side of the Planet, a meteor shower – something. It could be some unlooked for vestige of Sephiroth in the Lifestream.
Perhaps things would pass, perhaps the Planet's voice would return and she would be again looked to for her heritage. Little concern for her own aspirations and dreams. Her knees ached; she had not moved since the event occurred. With a groan she rolled onto her feet and got up. The flowers would cope for now; leaving them as they were for today would not – should not – cause irreparable harm. She needed time to think, time to adjust to these changes.
Aeris wandered back home to Edge, slower than normal and empty handed. The shift between the dead city of Midgar and the living city of Edge was less clear-cut than before, but the presence of more people was welcoming. The world carried on around her; the world did not seem concerned about her change. A few familiar faces on the way; she smiled and nodded, her face more mask-like, hiding the churning thoughts beneath.
Marlene greeted her eagerly when she reached the Seventh Heaven. All Aeris wanted was to sit at the bar and drink until this feeling faded. Something to distract her from the changes. But Marlene insisted, proud, so proud of something outside. Tifa shot her a sympathetic smile as Marlene tugged at her hand. It seemed as if Marlene wanted her to use her ability to grow something. How to break the news to her when Aeris was as yet uncertain how to broach the subject to Cloud or Tifa?
There was a pile of dirt in the corner of the yard, dotted here and there with green growths. Marlene let go of Aeris's hand and asked her to keep watching. She crouched beside the pile, tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth, her brow wrinkling as she stared at the dirt. Realisation came with Marlene's success; as soon as she reached her hand out over the dirt. A green stalk sprouted from the ground. Marlene grinned at Aeris; Aeris for her part expressed amazement and applauded the effort.
The Planet had no need of the Cetra. Or perhaps the Cetra were not truly a race, but more a state of mind. The Planet would have its guardians still. Avalanche of course, but who amongst the youngest of them would now gain the ability to do as Marlene? Who could say? The pressure came again; the Planet whispered in her head once more.
Aeris Gainsborough was formerly the Last Cetra. Now there were others.