Chapter 1: Broken Sky

It was a cold day. The kind of cold that entered your body like needles and left its agonizing mark in every step just trying to get away from it. Tifa exhaled her breaths deeply and slowly as she tried to climb down the broken black and white mountain. Nibleheim was always a chilly place, even in the valley one could still see the vapor crawl out of you, taking the last bit of human warmth, draining you of vitality. It's jagged rocks tear at the sky, reaping hope as escape becomes more and more impossible.

Hope. That was the word Tifa was reflecting on as she passed another stretch of pine. There weren't very many patches of forest on these mountains, but when there were, it was a moment to rest, a moment to check some traps. Tifa never told anyone about them, her ritual of exploration and training. The need for refuge, of contemplation, and the overall need to find something...

Not here.

She lifted the manufactured weave of twigs and revealed no catch of the day. Nibleheim was too far out from most of the main highways that its inhabitants had to be self-sufficient. If anyone wanted to have something as luxurious as fruit, one would have to travel to Junon, because even the desert Canyon was without it's jewels. The world has changed. Paranoia and desolation was rampant and expected, but Gaia was not without its kind hearts. Tifa took pride in being of the light, and yet... Here she was in an empty house in a town she once called home.

It had been almost half a year since she left Midgar. Left the bar, left the people she had once called friends. It was only supposed to be for a month, staying with Barrett, making sure that Marlene was settled in her new home to be with her "Father."

Because God knows that girl needed a constant male figure in her life.

For a brief second Tifa thought of her own father. Her heart panged as it just barely managed to conjour a face. Does she dare think of her Mother? Tifa shook her head and looked up at the sky. There was no milky way, no stars. Just a grit grey of rolling clouds that dared to produce snow...

It was only supposed to be a month, until she came home and found a body on the floor, shards of beer bottles scattered about and all the picture frames thrown haphazardly onto the ground. Flashes of a family that never really was.

"What good are you!?"

Tifa jolted at the voice within her mind. She began to move again, clearing a boulder that marked her halfway point. If she kept moving, if she kept running, maybe the past wouldn't eat her alive.

"I should have been the one! I should have died!"

Tifa could never forget the sulken face that Cloud always wore. How many minutes, how many days, had she smiled hoping that maybe, just maybe he'd remember how to do the same?

"Sephiroth missed his mark. If she was alive..."

"Sephiroth never missed his mark", Tifa grumbled to herself. She unknowingly pressed her belly, the scar that would never fade lying silent underneath her clothing. There was no way to forget it. Sephiroth was a sadistic psychopathic soldier. He marked her, like He marked Cloud. Take away the most important thing, and you have a person's soul. But Cloud was too fractured to figure it out, and still belongs to his strings. Tifa whispered to herself. "You are still a victim."

"I want to go with her."

Till this day it bore down into Tifa, going too deep for her to bear. Was he in love with Aerith? Or was he so unhappy with herself that death was the only option?

Tifa looked up again, and instead of striking the mountainside with her fist she held a hand to her face, pressing her eyes to stop the tears from forming. How many drops has she shed for a Man that did nothing to change his predicament. Who in the end wanted nothing to do with her...

"No." Tifa almost shouted, correcting herself. "I have... nothing to do with him."

It was a scaled and layered thing. Picked away like a wound that failed to heal. Was there any way to find the truth, rehashing the past like it would bring something new? Was she hoping to find a portion of love that maybe she just got it wrong. That maybe he was doing things in the reverse way he always understood affection? Keeping away with his geostigma in hopes that she wouldn't be infected either. But was it more love to go or to stay, like Denzel had needed?

Denzel... Regret was a feeling that Tifa hated the most. But what could she have done? She needed to keep the boy away from Cloud's self-destructive behavior. It wasn't fair to him. And it wasn't fair for Tifa to lose her son to Reeve, because in some perverse way Denzel looked at her like she was the reason. Like she was at fault for Cloud's unhappiness.

"I did the best I could." Tifa stated. But the words were nothing but an excuse for the boy. Her anger had already passed and was replaced with a broken hearted sadness. Because she knew hatred wasn't worth it, because she knew only over time and over life would he ever begin to understand. It was a fight she just had to accept to lose.

Tifa tripped on a wobbly stone, and fell onto the frozen ground. The pain of scathed hands and elbows could never equal that within her heart. The past was the past. Blood was blood. And no amount of sacrifice to the devil himself could bring back the ones who truly loved her. If only her Mother and Father were here, then she could get by during the lonely nights in the shadow of the house that was once filled with their voices.

Sometimes in the middle of the night she could still hear Mama's songs, with her spirit still sitting there beside the piano she used to play. She could swear she saw her one night, but that proved to be nothing more than a moogle.

Yes a Moogle. And he liked to be called Moe. He was a silly little creature, and he wasn't as fluffy as the others. He was more... Roughed up and callous. Much like it's master, or so he says.

"Tifa?" She was still lying on the ground when she heard the familiar voice. He fluttered about in a circle above her, peering at her with his narrow eyes. "Are you ok? kupo."

She raised herself up and brushed the dirt off her bloody knuckles. "Hmm. Heiki. I'll be fine."

This time on her own... wasn't without its good moments. Finding a moogle was always a brush of luck, but this one was a little more special than the rest. Moe was a universal Moogle, a goods trader like all the others, but he had the power to go between worlds and time. Apparently not all moogles are granted it, let alone see the doors to other planes...

It took some whining and a week of hot dinners before she was able to convince him to show her his abilities. And it was just a glimpse. Just a few peeks through a window to another world. Fantastic and mysterious and far more advanced than her own.

It was called Pulse. Rolling hills and peaks and a sphere on a pole that housed millions of people... but this was all Moe's description. She had yet to go there herself, and even then... Pulse was always changing. Sometimes it looked haggard and war torn, other times it was lush and vibrant like a newborn.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Tifa looked at Moe, concern evident in his high pitched voice. The cold wind brushed against his ears, flopping one of them back. She gently flipped it with her fingertips.

"I guess this is it." What propelled her towards the other world was something more than her situation here in Gaia. She had made a friend. The invitation was unexpected and almost impulsive.. maybe. But, Tifa didn't mind. Moe's master was kind. And she needed a new adventure.

Tifa took one last look at her homeland's sky and wondered if her parents were watching her.

If her choice to live was enough to make them proud.

She entered into the golden light, the turning spire clicking and emitting a warm and vibrant aura. She hadn't seen this kind of power since Holy engulfed Meteor. Her bones chilled. Seeing her hesitation Moe bopped ahead and began to wave his furry paw.

"Come on! Let's go! She's waiting!"

For the first time in a long time Tifa laughed.

"Ok!" She jumped in, enveloped by the light.

To be continued...