Chapter 42. December 30 (PM) – December 31 (AM),εуλ0007

The sleeping forest had welcomed her. Closed to most, it opened freely to her, recognizing her, sang to her a lunar music all its own. But it was behind her now.

Awaken it and it will open a path to you. It had responded to her readily enough, but she wondered if it would open up for Cloud as easily. She'd done the best she could to convince the forest to let him through; she was unsure if Cloud would, or even should, follow – but she couldn't resist leaving him the opportunity. Would he follow her to the City of the Ancients?

All she knew was that she needed to go, to learn how to use the White Materia; she knew little more that it was there to balance and oppose the Black. The inevitable tug pulled her ever closer to what had been the city of her ancestors, when there were still many Cetra. Now, it was only her going alone to meet her destiny.

She worried as well as desired that Cloud would follow; she was afraid he might bring Sephiroth along with him. Already, she could almost feel Sephiroth's eyes on her. But even so… she had the inexplicable sensation that Cloud NEEDED to be there. Why?

It was a risk… but also maybe an opportunity. The best chance for Cloud to break free of the invisible chains that fettered his mind. If anyplace could do that, it would be the Cetra city - the wisdom of the Ancients could save him – or tear him apart completely.

Which would be his destiny?

Making her way through Coral Valley, she clambered over desiccated stone polyps, the dried-up bed of what had once been an inland sea. Shells and sea-creature skeletons were testaments to a time when all of this was underwater; the decayed stone seabed was now devoid of life, only fossilized remnants left behind.

Even so, monsters had moved in the way they always did, mutating to adapt to their environment; she dispatched them with staff and magic, but not without some effort; still she pushed forward, a one-woman team versus the beasts, healing herself time and time again. In a way, she was grateful that he trip was not so easy, helping to keep her mind off what might lie ahead; in between, she soothed herself with memories – thinking through her friends, through Zack, and most of all herself.

Nanaki, a fellow guardian of the Planet, able to read it in a way not identical but rather complementary to the Cetra. He had been right, how much she had learned at Cosmo Canyon; she hoped to go there again sometime, to probe the depths of knowledge that Bugenhagen and the other elders possessed.

She backtracked to that last conversation with Vincent, he letting her go without objection - trusting her to know what she needed to do, even as she wasn't sure herself.

Barret, the man who guarded Marlene with such dedication and love. The man who led an AVALANCHE not out to use her – she regretted she hadn't had a chance to talk to him longer. And that last conversation with Tifa, fretting more and more the further she got away, that too much and not enough had passed between them.

Absentmindedly, she knocked some rocks off the path with her staff.

And then there was Cloud. She hadn't had a chance to say a word to him before she'd left. Fortunately, she'd had a chance to bridge those moments with him over dreams; pleased and relieved to say, if not everything, at least the essence of what she needed him to know.

He haunted her, his eyes, since she'd first really looked into them on the playground and saw what lay behind them. Hurt and vulnerability, under a masked veneer of strength. And as always now when she thought of Cloud and those Mako eyes, her mind traveled back to Zack.

It was with the utmost reluctance that she was slowly letting go of them both. Zack, Cloud, and the parts of Cloud that reminded her of Zack; all baggage she'd been hanging onto for too long. Distractions from her ultimate journey. Heavy-hearted, she wondered if she would ever have a chance to see Zack again. She hoped one day... In the Lifestream. To tell him everything she should have back then.

Which of course led her to Marlene.

She almost thought if she reached through the White Materia she could feel Marlene, halfway around the world; or perhaps it was the other way around. She'd given Marlene the materia to hold; now it knew her, understood her. Would Marlene be perhaps able to see through the materia herself as the years went on? She hoped it would help guide her - that, and the bridge she'd forged – a trove of knowledge that would unwrap slowly as the years went by, blossoming like a flower right along with her.

Follow the yellow flowers. Her final, unspoken words to Marlene – they were her wish for her daughter to find love and happiness. Seek out her own Promised Land, the way everyone had to find it for themselves; crestfallen, she wondered if her own chance was past. Was it too much to hope she might still find it?

An image rose of a flower in her hand, the petals dropping loose to be swept away on the wind. No one could shield her from what she had to do. She'd wished to escape loneliness, but now, she wondered if that was simply meant to be the story of her life. It was part of coming to terms with what it really meant to be a Cetra; among other things, now she understood so much more of what was and wasn't meant to be. The things she could do that no one else could.

It was the power of a Cetra to forge that connection to the Planet and the Lifestream that flowed in and through it. She considered if any other members of the party could do so, but though some had potential, it seemed it was only her after all. The Planet's loyalty was to the Cetra, not to humanity as a whole; she hoped to convince the Planet to give humans another chance. That there was hope for them yet.

She had to believe that.

Exiting the narrow canyon to a wider space beyond, she found herself descending a staircase of bone – as if the spine of some ancient, enormous creature, every vertebrae a step, when she rounded a corner and got her first glimpse of the valley in full. Layers of stone plates, protruding like lichens out of cliffs and spires, formed a semblance of trees; but as the path dithered further down into the valley floor, she saw an enormous bleached–bark tree. Its trunk spiderwebbed from node upon node to uncountable branches, reaching so far into the heavens that she could not begin to guess where the tree ended and the sky began. It sang to her across the valley, a song of life, and she knew inside that tree she would find what she was looking for.

As she reached the valley floor, the city itself began whispering to her, the same way the voices of the Ancients had spoken at the Temple - answering questions about her heritage, what it might have been like when this city was real. All of the Cetra, gathered together, when the great ocean – or possibly the Lifestream itself – first surged, then receded back into the earth. Stronger than at the Temple, she could feel how they had left their energy not so much in the rocks (though it was potent there too), but more so in the bones – pieces, once of life, that now reverberated with the pulsing energy of the Lifestream just below the surface, fighting back against the overwhelming emptiness that wanted to encroach.

This place, close to the Lifestream as few places were – who knows what could happen. Boundaries of space and time losing their meaning, in higher dimensions beyond human understanding.

In the trunk of the tree was a yawning archway leading directly into its heart; the path split, one branch leading straight forward, others forking to left and right. Circumventing for now her ultimate destination, Aerith detoured to the left, drawn by the temptation of more knowledge.

She entered what must once have been the residential area, circular storied houses swirling like shells, squared domiciles built into the cliffs themselves. Emptiness prevailed in the hushed interiors, but the darkness was broken by glowing globes emitting an eerie bluish light. On impulse, Aerith placed her hand on one; it burst to life, burning with the wisdom of the Ancients. Words no longer meant for any ears but those of a Cetra. She opened her mind and listened.

She drifted in and out, surfing that boundary of memory and dream where the Cetra spanned the gap. Near the beckoning edge of their resting place – the Lifestream. Deeper, they told her, go deeper. It called to her the sea of memories as deep and full as the ocean that had been here once, haunting, seductive. Drawing her in to become one.

And this, beyond all else, proved Sephiroth could never pretend to be an Ancient. Not one who tried to break things apart instead of bringing them back together.

The globes told her only the next step; she knew now the WHAT of the White Materia, but in the top tier of the city she would learn next the HOW. Spoken to her in feelings, a sixth or even seventh sense.

She thought distantly of Cloud. Did it matter if he followed herself or Sephiroth, if they pulled him to the same place? Was this where the final conflict would happen? She'd thought things would be settled at the temple, but now she was aware the conflict would not be that simple - more cerebral, not settled by swords.

Was Cloud ready? Would he come? Would he be afraid?

Cloud knew where Aerith was going – but she hadn't told him where the Forgotten City actually WAS. Still, with that uncanny, inexplicable sense that he had somehow developed, he was certain he knew exactly where to go.

Thanks to the Tiny Bronco, it was just a few short hours to the northern continent, the temperature dropping perceptibly as the day wore on. They disembarked and headed towards Bone Village, impatiently waiting overnight for the crew to dig up the Lunar Harp they'd need to find the way through the forest.

Tifa tossed and turned; the lodgings were comfortable enough if a bit rustic, so she could hardly blame her sleep disturbance on that. It was her twin sets of worries for the people closest to her. Aerith… and Cloud.

Worry for Aerith alone would have been plenty. None of them had any idea how she might have gotten ahead of them, but clearly she had – the villagers reported a girl of her description passing through – but now, she was wandering alone by herself and no one seemed to know what lay beyond the woods. Tifa could only hope that it wasn't more than her friend could handle, since there was no way to help her now – and the way Aerith had left without a word, perhaps she wanted it that way.

Truthfully, Cloud troubled her far more. She'd asked – insisted – nearly pleaded with him to come along, but she privately, she had to confess she was having reservations. What if there WAS something terribly wrong with him?

She battled within herself, nagging concern and persistent doubts warring with her need to trust. It pained her to admit that she simply couldn't believe Cloud could be anyone but Cloud. Even if some… discrepancies… were still unresolved.

Her sleep was fitful, the second night in a row spent anxious and bleary-eyed, but finally the sun came up – with no answers reached, no choices made but to continue putting her faith in Cloud.

The rest of the party was massing outside the inn, Cloud nowhere to be seen, when the man finally approached with a delicate silver harp tucked under his arm. Barret gazed at it skeptically. "That thing is supposed to let us through the forest?"

Cloud shrugged. "That's what they say."

They entered a forested canopy of delicately-leafed trees, and Cloud realized, with some surprise, that it was the same place Aerith had met him in his dream. They had made it; they were drawing near. As if he needed any more verification they were drawing near. He'd felt at times on this journey two tugs in different directions – but now, they were pulling him both to the same place.

What worried him was, he was certain one of those was Sephiroth.

So complicated. Beside him, the refreshing simplicity of Tifa's presence, not really a pull, no mystery about that. He smiled a little, thinking it needed no magic - it was Tifa.

He raised a hand to the instrument's hair-wire strings, wondering if he was supposed to play anything in particular, but before he could pluck a note, the dreamlike haze that coated the forest appeared to shiver and melt, leaving behind ordinary, everyday light.

The forest had awakened.

He heard words of congratulations and grunts of approval, but Cloud only stared at the tiny instrument, perplexed. "I didn't do anything…" He stared at it, waiting to see if anything else was going to happen; but after a moment, he only shrugged. Maybe he just had to HAVE the item, not actually play the thing. Didn't matter. The pull forward was still the same.

They traversed the delicate green of the forest, meandered through a barren fossilized landscape, crumbed bones and fossilized plants surrounding them. Solemnity and foreboding were their companions as they witnessed the absence of any normal forms of life. Monsters barely worth a swipe were quickly dispatched by the collective party, and they made swift progress forward. The path led them further downhill into the valley below, visibly closing in on the city itself.

They first went straight, entering inside the trunk of the enormous tree – large enough to have a small grove of its own nestled inside. Centered in the middle was a lake, a pond really, on whose shores sat a single building created to look like a spiny shell – but from there, there was nowhere else to go.

The middle was graced by a small fish pond, in which a single koi swam lazily. It was notable only for its in congruency with the outside surroundings, almost construed – but past that, nothing seemed to be wrong.

And no sign of Aerith.

"We should investigate the city itself," suggested Nanaki. "It seems more likely we will have some success there."

She entered next a grand amphitheater, like so many other structures here, built into the stone itself. Circling through the upper gallery, Aerith crossed a slender bridge held up by little more than faith and magic. Surrounding her, the writings of in the Ancients' script, one she was not familiar with; instead, she focused her attention on a strange crystal, bigger than she herself, hovered above a platform that was itself suspended entirely in midair. Its glow was reminiscent of the globes seen in the houses of the city, but its draw ever stronger, pulled her forward and she peered deep within.

Inside, she found a tale of a Planet in crisis, angry and afraid. Fearful of dying, but craving the end nonetheless. She could hear its cries so clearly now, pain and heartache touching her soul; she tried desperately to offer it some reassurance. But she was only one person – one Cetra.

The Planet had an answer waiting for her.

Holy, she repeated silently.

You must connect your mind to the Planet, the Ancient wisdom came through. If a soul seeking Holy reaches the Planet, it will appear. Do so without hesitation, for only then will the White Materia be activated; it will bond the Planet to humans.

She understood. I can do it, she replied. But what will happen then?

Meteor, Weapon, everything will disappear. Everything the Planet deems a threat.

Aerith gulped. Everything?

It is up to the Planet to decide.

Aerith wondered if she had enough faith.

And what happened after that? When her responsibility was done? Was the Promised Land to be a reward for all of this, how did it connect to it all? Where would she find herself?

Are you ready, the Planet itself asked with trepidation.

And her answer was a resounding YES.

Exiting to where the path originally forked, they took the branch to the right. A cursory exploration of the city, however, was fruitless, only reinforcing how dead and forgotten the city truly was. It was as dry as had been the path leading up to it, though strangely devoid of dust, as one might expect to find the legacy of decay. Cloud couldn't help but note irony - that the city of the Ancients, the guardians of life, could feel so desolate.

It felt like the Planet had abandoned this city.

A brief search of several houses turned up nothing; the abandoned stone structures had nothing to say. An amphitheatre seemed promising, but the altar in the center revealed nothing, the ancient script written along the edges devoid of meaning for them.

As the sun began to fall faster and faster, shadows growing long, adding to the haunted feel of the city, a weary group collectively called a halt. Little more would be accomplished in the dark; in the meantime, they could only hope for the best for Aerith.

They retreated to one of the strange shell houses, the one most closely resembling an inn. Cloud was still certain Aerith was here - he just couldn't figure out where. Absentmindedly, he reached out a hand to one of the globes illuminating the room – and he felt a crackle and hiss.

"What is it?" Tifa asked, seeing him jump.

"It's… as if the globe wants to tell me something." Words of the Ancients, but meaningless to him, no clearer than the voices he thought he'd heard at the temple. All that came through was a nondescript static. "No good. I can't get through."

"Let me try." Hesitantly, Tifa imitated Cloud, placing her hand on the globe. "Nothing. I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about, Cloud. I can't feel a thing."

Cloud shrugged. "The Mako, maybe."

"I'm beat," complained Yuffie. "Can't we take a rest?"

"Tired already?" Cid grumbled. "I thought you young people were supposed to have more stamina."

"She has a point," suggested Tifa, stifling her own yawns. One of these days, she'd need some decent sleep before she keeled right over. "We could probably all use a break."

"Nothing else we CAN do right now," agreed Cloud, frustrated. Nowhere else to go, a weakened tug – no clue either external or internal and those damn globes weren't helping out.

Even with dark slowly covering the city, it was still relatively early, and the party took their time settling in. Yuffie rolled over nearly immediately, snoring to wake any dead that might still be hanging around, but the rest…

"Why do you think Aerith went alone?" Tifa asked. They were assembled in a lopsided circle, some borrowing blankets and pillows to make themselves comfortable and ease the transition to bed.

"Perhaps she believed this was her destiny, and hers alone," suggested Nanaki. "Something she must face on her own."

Barret met Nanaki's one eye. "You really believe in destiny?

Nanaki met his stare. "And you do not?"

Barret snorted. "I'm not plannin' to let destiny boss me around if I can help it."

"Nanaki is right, but it is not that simple," spoke up Vincent. "Perhaps… it may not be one single destiny we are headed for, but instead, every one of our choices cuts off some possibilities, and makes others more likely. Each step we take brings us closer to an inevitable result." He looked around at each in turn, finally settling on Cloud, who fidgeted uncomfortably. "Can anyone here deny that their choices made certain outcomes all but certain?"

No one spoke for a long moment; Tifa wondered if they, like herself, were thinking about what happened at the Temple. But that wasn't really Cloud's choice, was it? Maybe further back though – heading out on this journey, the choices they'd made both big and small along the way. That talk she never had with Aerith. The things she STILL wasn't telling Cloud. Even before that, bombing the reactor, joining AVALANCHE – or even back in Nibelheim, Cloud deciding to go join SOLDIER and not being there to save her on that day; she extracting a promise back then that kept him with her now. And at every step, a life unlived, possibilities sacrificed.

But if that was all the case… what was her own destiny that lay ahead? She had made her choices, but neither she nor anyone else here had any idea what they might lead to. The only one who might truly have some idea of where destiny was taking her… was Aerith.

"Destiny is fluid," Nanaki finally said. "We've all defied destiny to some degree, and that's why we are here now." That, at least, was a bit reassuring.

"Well, that's great and all," yawned Cid, "but I'm getting fuckin' tired. Anyone else ready to turn in?" Tifa was the first one to nod, and slowly they all stood, reorganizing the mess they'd created, and finding spots to go to sleep.

Cloud lay back, considering all that had been said earlier. He'd been giving a big middle finger to destiny this whole time, but the way Nanaki had explained it… he was coming around to Aerith's point of view. Every moment matters. Because we don't know where destiny might be leading us.

He snuck a glance at Tifa; she was sinking into beautiful sleep. One thing that was mercifully uncomplicated in his life. No spiritual Cetra bond, just a regular human connection – but all the same he was endlessly conscious of every move she made.

And he liked it.

Whatever happened next, destiny or otherwise…

She'd be there with him.

Aerith exited the city proper, determined, resolute. Only one way to go. Forward. Armed with the knowledge of the Ancients had given to her of the next step, she was ready to enter the tree and find whatever destiny awaited her there.

Stopping just at the opening, she looked towards the sky that had once so frightened her; now, it seemed more like a familiar friend. The last rays of the winter sunlight glowed orange over the horizon, the green flash sparking across the sky before it disappeared from view completely, and night had officially fallen, settling darkness over the city as it had for thousands of years.

She entered the grove inside, the small house beside the lake , knowing that just as the sleeping forest, it would welcome her. Crystal stairs led her down closer to the center of the earth, she traversing a wide arc to the depths below. Down to the very center of her homeland , the place where she belonged – she knew she was coming HOME, the feeling ever stronger within her.

At the bottom, a castle, half-submerged, what must have once been the center of worship back when this city was alive. Watery light glistened on its rocky surface, coming from somewhere far above, refracted on the liquid's placid surface. All that was left of the sea into which splatters of the Lifestream once flowed.

The spirit energy here was astounding, nothing she had ever felt before. Holy glowed there, begging just at the edge of her higher vision. This close, her life just brushed it, a feather's touch away. And she knew how to bridge the gap.

She knew now; memories had power. She needed to connect her own memories to that stream of consciousness that carried the memories of all the Cetra – the Lifestream itself. To join her mind to all that energy gathered as one, was the power needed to summon Holy.

She shivered, suddenly wishing she'd brought Cloud with her after all. Once this was begun, she would not be able to stop it until it was complete, leaving her open and defenseless. Maybe he should have been there, to watch over and protect her.

She crossed to another altar in the center, no crystal here, but a thick ray of light focused in the middle, like an arrow pointing right to where she needed to be. She hopped across the water on stone pillars, climbed the few steps to the dais above. She stepped into the light, and turned around to face the way she had come.

She knelt down, folding her hands. She opened her mind and began to pray.

Cloud startled awake, shaken by – not a dream, but a reality. A yearning somehow, a desire to reach for the Planet.

"I feel it," he whispered to the desolate air.