Back to the Very Beginning
Iceland
I peered out through my tiny oval window, and gazed at a white shoreline. Dark rocks dusted across the white land, tiny homes and little buildings clustered together into tiny white webs of a city known as Reykjavik.
The small twenty seater plane readied its wings as a stewardess announced both in Icelandic and English, "Welcome to Iceland."
I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes, hands settling over my belly where I was slowly growing a child. I calculated to be barely three weeks along, haven't had my period in almost a month.
Every time I closed my eyes, I was either seeing a memory of Aerith, or of Cloud. Often enough, when my hands touched my belly, I would think of Cloud, first his blue eyes and all that he displayed in them. That time, I found them staring at me seriously, digging deep into mine to search in his own way, to carefully make sure what he was looking for was or wasn't there, depending on what it was. He had a way of holding an intense gaze, how he used to be capable of pulling me out of our surroundings and dive into a small, secret dwelling that is his secret feelings. Like pulling back layers of his tape, Cloud still had many more before opening the door to his inner world, though if I'd ask him, he would probably just hand me scissors.
Promise me, you'll stay,he had whispered, a distant voice in the darkness.
My heart thumped faster the closer the plane was to landing, and I took deep breaths to try to relax.
"It's okay. You're fine," I whispered to myself, closed eyes up to a fan blowing cool, dry air into my face, my hair neatly combed in a loose braid. My hands rested there, and I eventually smiled softly to myself. The idea of having a child used to seem like a horrifying idea, but knowing that it was Cloud's, a young man too far away, practically non-existent. I didn't know whether to be grateful I returned home with something, or to panic, feeling like a crazy person stuck with phantoms growing inside her body.
I tried to take it as a blessing. Aerith would've wanted it.
Flashes of just the two of us huddled together, a tiny lamp to give a soft light in the darkness of the ship.
He was in SOLDIER. The Mako. It makes those boys sterile. It wouldn't have worked anyway, I explained to Aerith, not understanding why she thought I could make a child with someone under those circumstances. Aerith said nothing. She closed her eyes and shook her head quietly. A small smile appeared, one that I should've taken a hint to, that somehow, she knew it didn't matter, for me anyway.
Why, I wasn't sure. Was it a miracle? My Ancient blood? Cloud not sterile after all? Many questions fermented, but it didn't matter in the end. It wasn't going to undo the pregnancy.
I sighed, bitting my lower lip and feeling partially insane. If I kept this going, everyone was just going to assume it was Isaac's, leaving me in the clear temporarily. I could go back to a normal life, eventually working my own practice at a clinic while raising a child on my own. Of course, it wouldn't be long before Isaac's father questioned the child's features, why they didn't match up to Isaac. Where did these blue eyes and blond hair come from? Our family is mostly Jewish, he would exclaim, and then it will all come out. I would be banished from Isaac's family, the lie undone, and left to leave New York as a fraud. Rumors would've spread, and Dr. Goldman would make sure I wouldn't be able to find a decent job practicing medicine in the states again.
I didn't want any of that to happen. That's partially why I left. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I couldn't stand the thought of aborting it, especially since it was Cloud's. I loved him too much. And that meant I loved the little cluster of cells inside me just as well. Getting rid of it would mean disposing a piece of Cloud, and I refused.
So instead, I decided to go back home. To the very beginning.
To the one person who would understand me...
I rented a car and immediately drove along the shoreline of Iceland, heading West. It was evening, around seven. The time difference didn't help, jumping ahead a few hours. I yawned as I gazed out at the harbor of Reykjavik, slowly disappearing behind the back window as a land of distant lights. No radio on. Just the silence and the Earth's hums.
Stars were out, leaving the air freezing as snow thickened into ice along the edges of the road and into the hills and small mountains. The North Atlantic Ocean was calm under the stars, almost a still blackness beyond the road.
By heart, I remembered the address, and passed the green sign that welcomed me into Arkranes after the bridge.
Just as I remembered, the little harbor town was still small. Only a few lights laid upon the main road that cut through it. There was the Old tiny lighthouse to my eleven o'clock vision, whirling a light that signaled to me that I was really home.
My real home.
My body heated in my car seat, casting warmth to my cheeks and belly as I turned left, almost heading straight towards that lighthouse as it grew, but then I made a quick right, and stopped the car.
For a long time, I didn't move. My hands gripped to the steering wheel, purposely parked a house away from where I was meant to go, and breathed heavily. I rubbed at my eyes, already watery as though smoke was inside the car. I gazed out into the dark, the neighborhood quiet looking, nothing but lovely houses with their quirky personalities resonating from their rooftops, paint and front yards, aligning a well-made asphalt road and street-lamps. The house I looked at, was like a small white box with a smaller box on top of it. It seemed to have gone through a remodeling phase. When? I wasn't certain. The white paint appeared recent, new windows installed. But the bushes hiding the front yard were still there, only dressed white from heavy snow. That green house was still hanging in the side yard, protecting the herbs and produce from the icy soil. Light fell from the windows, telling me there was life inside the home. It looks like a new four wheel drive SUV was in the driveway.
Seeing an unfamiliar car sank my stomach through my seat, afraid that I've made a terrible mistake, that I should've called fist or emailed or something, just in case.
I rubbed my face roughly with my hands, sucked in a deep breath, and opened the car door to be greeted by freezing air.
My feet crunched into hard snow when I stepped out. Instantly, I was greeted with a familiar icy fish smell with chimney smoke and I began to see small flashes of color in my life again, even in the dark evening.
Doubts resurfaced as I shoved my hands into my wool coat's pockets, stepping towards the house like a long, lost child finally back home. I tucked my chin into my turtleneck, shivering to the coastal winds tossing my braid aside, and walked around the icy crusted bushes to the front door.
Jazz music played behind it, and I hesitated.
What if she didn't remember me? What if she remarried and forgot to tell me? What if she sold the house? I could be knocking on a stranger's door, declaring I used to live here, and be shoved back out into the cold.
I trembled, and with a freezing hand, knocked cold knuckles to the door.
The music stopped.
I sucked in a shaky breath, eyes stinging, and licked the cold from my lips.
The locks on the door clicked. The door knob turned, and then, finally, it opened.
Light escaped, almost too much to look at, until someone emerged, blocking the ceiling lamp and casting a stretch of shadow onto the walkway.
I squinted when the porch light came on, and then a gasp.
A hand came to her heart under a white sweater, followed by a huge smile in between her round, pink cheeks. I recognized those sparkling blue eyes instantly, and they shimmered from moisture.
"Aqua?" Maria Emaline breathed, tears falling down her quaking chin.
She was everything as I remembered, not a day older. As soon as I croaked, "Mamma," I broke and dove straight towards her with open arms. She opened hers and took me in, stunned as well as overjoyed to finally have a hold of me after ten long years.
"Oh, my little elskan, I was so worried," she whispered, her translation for "darling" in Icelandic just as I remembered, and she tightened her hold.
"I've missed you so much," I wept, rubbing my cheeks into her warm, wool sweater, smelling her same jasmine perfume that she's worn since I was small.
"I'm so sorry," I added, and I repeated that over and over again, even when Mum told me that I was being ridiculous.
"Come, let's get you out in the cold," she encouraged, taking my bag even though I was capable of holding it myself. The house was warm and cozy, and I inhaled a smell of warm biscuits.
"You still making those biscuits?" I asked, trying to smile with my face soaked from tears. Mom nodded, gesturing me to follow her in the kitchen. Her slippers flapped through the wood floor, her hair in a jumbled messy blond bun.
"Every week," she cheered, setting my bag in a chair, and I sat in the other.
The kitchen was mostly the same, besides the upgraded appliances.
Mum noticed my watchful eyes as she set out some plates on the small round table.
"Ah, yes. I got a few new things since you've left. A dishwasher! Finally!" She sang, and I actually laughed, her facial expressions always animating and full of life. She was a lot like Aerith, seeing the flower girl vibrant through her in a different reality.
I rested elbows on the table, unable to stop crying, especially when Mum settled a plate of cranberry biscuits under my nose.
Despite the nostalgia, the smell made my stomach vibrate, and I jumped out of my chair and rushed to the sink. Plane food spilled down the drain, leaving Mum perplexed in her chair until I was done. I let the water run, and took a few handfuls into my mouth, slurping and gasping.
I dried my hands with a kitchen towel, turned around, and saw the look on Mum's face.
Her eyes told me what I was afraid of, and I sniffed, not yet ready to tell her, but knew the sooner, the better.
We sat together at the kitchen table all night, my appetite coming back, and I devoured four biscuits before I got the chance to grow sick again.
I sighed as I held a warm mug of tea in my hands, my engagement ring still on my finger, and it glistened under the kitchen's lamp.
Mum kept glancing at it, but she was too polite to ask, and waited instead.
"Ever since getting on that plane, I had practiced inside my head how this would go, and yet, I can't seem to find the words," I began, and took a sip of chamomile tea.
Mum's wrinkled hand squeezed mine, and her eyes lit up at me.
"I'm just so happy you're home," she gushed.
"You still live alone?" I guessed, noticing how quiet the house was.
Mum flicked her hand.
"Well, Mittens is gone, but that's okay. There's Mittens Number Two, now," she gloated, and I laughed.
"You gave your new cat the same name as our old cat?" I cackled, and she nodded.
"He doesn't seem to mind, wherever that bushy cat is," Mum groaned, her eyes wandering the kitchen, hoping to find her cat.
My fingers tapped nervously on the glass mug, a gentle song to the quiet house. Voices floated around my head, and I looked up at her as I said, "You were right, Mamma."
She cocked her head at me.
"About?"
"About everything," I clarified. "The voices. The Gods. I didn't believe you for the longest time. I thought I was just sick. And you were stuck in your old Norse Gods ways, always claiming that the voices were the Gods talking to me. I hated you so long for that, believing that my sickness was some kind of miracle. But now..." I sniffed and dabbed at my eyes with a napkin.
"I believe you," I wheezed.
Mum was too stunned to speak, a hand close to her heart where she fiddled with her long-time amulet, The Viking's Compass.
"My little elskan, I didn't care if you believed me or not. I just wanted you to be happy. You were always upset about the voices, and I didn't like it when your father and I had to put you on those medications. They made you..." she was lost in thought, her eyes telling me she was reeled back into a difficult time.
"You didn't seem like a child anymore. Like you grew up too quickly."
She shook her head to herself, eyes falling to her tea.
"I just wanted to help you, telling you all the stories of the Gods, and helping you believe that your voices weren't a symbol of shame, but of protection, a guide. Just like when the Gods brought me to you."
She laughed to herself, in almost a sad manner, and leaned her chin over a hand, elbow resting on the table. Her eyes were lost in the past, and she smiled deeply.
"I know I've told you this so many times, but I still find it incredible. I remember, during that hike, a white fox appeared. Oh, what a rare site it was. Your father and I wanted a closer look, when it began to trot off. But sometimes, it would turn around, its blue eyes on us, as though wanting us to follow it. And we did. We followed that fox up the slopes towards that lake, when we heard you cry."
"That's when I knew, that fox was a guide from the Gods, a fylgia, and they guided us to you, as though you were born from that lake. It glowed, like the auroras from the sky came and fell to earth. Such a beautiful, rare moment. We were so happy. After trying for so long, finally, we could have a child. And we knew you were special."
She sniffed, ready to cry.
"There was always this fear of returning you. Like, at some point in time, they wanted you back, though I never went there to that lake again. I didn't want to find out," Mum added, shaking her head at such a thought.
She finally looked at me, back to the kitchen and in the present.
"And what do the Gods tell you, my elskan?" And a pure smile came to her lovely pale lips.
I smiled back, tears coming again.
"They told me to come back," I whispered.
I leaned into Mum, quietly weeping into her, and felt like a child all over again.
She held me, kissing my head.
"And I'm so glad you are alive. I was so worried when I found out. They told me you disappeared, but I prayed and prayed. And here you are. Oh, you can stay as long as you like," she told me, rocking me in her arms.
I held her tight.
"Until the Gods want me back?" I asked.
Mom nodded, her chin over the top of my head.
"Yes, until the Gods want you back, whenever that may be. I hope its years and years from now, when you're older than I am, and ready to go," she replied.
Gods, it felt good to be back home.
"I'm so sorry I left you the way that I did. I'm sorry for that fight, for being so mad and blaming you for everything!" I cried. But Mum shushed me, shaking her head.
"Stop that. It was a difficult time. You were upset over our father's death, and just wanted to understand it all in a different light, a science way of things. We have our different beliefs."
I was so glad Mum needed little explanation, but after a long break of quiet, I decided to tell her anyway.
"I'm pregnant," I whispered.
Mum only held me tighter, nodding her head as though she understood. Her thoughts whirled quietly, but all she really asked was, "Is that doctor the father? The one who's also missing?"
Uncontrollably, I sobbed and, at the last second, shook my head. I could've lied. It would've made it all easier, and Mum would've understood. I would get her condolences and kind words as she told me Isaac will turn up at some point. But I didn't want to lie to her either.
"No," I sniffled.
Mum gasped. I could just picture her eyes wide across the kitchen, latched onto a wall as her thoughts whirled with disbelief.
"Aqua," she breathed, and then added after processing the news, "Then who's the father?"
"It doesn't matter, Mamma. He wasn't ready. He was a remarkable person, but still too young, still figuring things out. But that's okay. I..." I took a deep breath. "I want this. This is my choice."
I pulled back, and used another napkin to clear my eyes and nose until the table was littered with rumbled napkins and tissues.
"I came here to think. I needed to get away from there, Mamma. New York isn't my home. It never was." And that was the absolute truth, Mum could see it in my eyes.
There was no trace of resentment in her gaze, just of worry when she rubbed her hand down my back, another to my hands at my belly.
"Stay as long as you need. I would be happy to help you get back on your feet again. Let the Gods guide you when you're ready," she preached. I took those words securely and kept them for safe keeping, perceiving them as something special to my journey.
We talked for a long time in that kitchen. I told her about New York, what it was like, and about life as a physician in one of the best hospitals. Mum asked about the ring, what I was supposed to do with it, and I wasn't sure. To keep it for now until I was ready to depart from it, I suppose. She asked me about Isaac, and I explained to her how he and I had a big fight before we went missing.
"Where did you go? What happened?" Mum asked, her hands fiddling with half of a biscuit she wasn't going to eat. The big question was all over her face, the one that everyone would truly like to know. Was I trapped somewhere in some sewer system? Dragged along the ocean's currents? Held captive? How does a young woman come back after disappearing out of thin air for two months?
I looked inside my tea mug, fingernails tapping outside it, while I watched my tea bag sink into the shadows of my half finished drink.
How do I even tell her?
What would happen if I told the truth? Mum has always been the dreamy, fairy tale type, with her old religions of Norse Gods and obsessing over literature. She might believe me. What I do know for sure, is that she's the last person to lock me up in the looney bin, and that's why I thought it was best to tell her.
The absolute truth.
I shook my head, loose hair fluttering to the movement.
"You won't believe me," I trembled, a dark warning.
Mum's eyes widened.
"Whatever for?"
I closed my eyes, trying to visualize how it all began. Falling. I remember falling, and then a green light, taking me like soft branches coiling around my arms and legs. Isaac holding my hand to keep me from getting sucked in.
After a long sigh, I sat back in my chair and looked across the table at Mum. With a forced smile, I cautioned her, "Are you ready for a story?"
Mum had a hand to her heart.
"Goodness, should I get the wine? I mean, for me. Not you," she fretted, and before I could tell her to get what she needed, she jumped out of her chair and snatched a bottle of Pinot Gris from a wine rack on the counter.
A glass poured later, Mum settled in her seat, and watched me, ready, while she tried not to appear too alarming. Before I could even start, she began taking sips, and I stared at her, and then to the glass.
"Mum, I haven't even started," I muttered.
"Sorry. Go on," she squeaked, hands in her lap.
My stomach began to hurt, and I cradled to it, afraid to get sick again, but I felt no need to vomit. It could be anxiety, lurking in the same dwelling as my baby, and I feared it will be born as anxious as I am. I tried to take deep breaths, and closed my eyes.
Ironically, for humor, I began with, "Once upon a time, there was a young man and woman walking along the streets of New York, when suddenly, the woman began to fall into a pool of green light."
Mum hooked, a hand under her chain, elbows over the table.
I told as much as I could without dragging too many details. I kept it fairly brief, and yet, an hour had already passed by the time I got around the end.
When Aerith died.
My eyes couldn't stop leaking, and when I turned to reach for another tissue, I could see her there. Aerith, standing in the corner of the kitchen, the blood all around her dress, her hair loose and wild, eyes distant. And fucking smiling.
I swallowed, trying not to hang onto that ghost for too long. Mum looked with me, unsure as to what I was looking at, for she may just see nothing but a corner.
I blinked a few times, and looked away. However, I still felt her there, a fresh, dead Aerith loitering around, keeping me locked inside a small pocket of recorded time, never to roll forward nor backward. She followed me, back to my world, instead of up in the clouds, in heaven where she always looked to belong with her angelic features. More tears sniffed up, eyes rubbed with more tissues.
"Even if I were to go back, Mum, she won't be there," I shook. My words came out wet and sloppy, and I was shaken by where my thoughts went, at the last part before being transported to New York CIty.
Flashes came. The White Materia fell from our hands, and bounced against the crystal floor, a beautiful wine glass "tink" sound, and lost to the waters below that altar.
We failed.
I fell into thoughts of how horrible that plan was, Aerith's and mine, to go alone like that, but Mum reeled me back when she settled her glass down. She was already half a bottle of wine in, and ready to pour more, her hands shaky as she did.
"So, you were brought back, to keep you safe?" She reached to clarify. I nodded, my tea cold, and eyelids heavy.
Silence fell. I waited and waited for what Mum's thoughts were, squirming in my chair as I observed how her eyes blinked on and off, her thoughts kept to herself while she corked the bottle of wine, save the rest for later.
As she stood up, she couldn't stop blinking.
"Well, that's…" she walked the wine bottle over to the fridge and slid it inside.
"That's an interesting story, Aqua," her tone told me she didn't believe me.
I sighed, rubbing at my eyes until the skin under them were raw and red.
"You don't believe me," I complained.
Mum closed the fridge door, her back to me.
"I believe you went through a traumatic experience, and lost someone very close to you. I believe that you were lost for a long time, in a dark place, and somehow, you made it out," she justified.
I was getting deja-vu having this talk with Mum, very much the same as how it went with Aerith when I told her I was from a different world. My hands squeezed at my jeans, trying not to cry again as my world continue to sulk in its grey tones.
"You don't believe me," I repeated, more to admit to myself.
"Aqua," her hand found my shoulder, and I looked up at her small smile.
"Whether I believe you or not, I want you to stay as long as you need to get through this. I hope they find your friend, even if he may not be the father. But it sounds like he loves you, despite how you two went through a rough patch."
I know I can't go back home but, I want to find a way, for you to go back,Isaac told me, our private talk on that beach in Costa De Sol a welcoming memory. It may have been the deepest talk we've ever shared, and I was thankful for it.
I sighed, vaguely watching Mum settle back in her chair, taking my hands into hers.
You got your wish, Isaac. Somehow, you figured it out, and got me back home.
Don't come back.
Those were his last words. He didn't look afraid as he shoved me away to escape Sephiroth's sword. He looked…complete? A real smile, eyes wet, glad to have finally accomplished what he's always wanted since that night on the beach. Not a care to take the blade into his enhanced body, if it was meant to keep me safe.
Isaac, you saved me.
I pulled my hands away, and slammed them over my eyes, ready to spill all over again.
Mum scooted her chair close to mine, and pulled me into her, resting her chin over my head.
"My elskan, it's okay. You're safe now. Odin will keep you safe," she breathed.
As I sobbed quietly into her arms, Mum talked of enjoying her time teaching mythology at the Reykjavik University, as well as helping with the festivals and taking a side job as a guide to those day trips to Mt. Esjan.
"It's spennadni!" Mum's thick accent slipped through, but I was glad she knew English, though if she wanted me to, we could speak in Icelandic.
I sat up, sniffling, and grabbed for my thousandth tissue.
"Mum, did you forget, I can still speak Icelandic," I reminded her in our native language.
Mum's eyes grew big.
"Oh yes, I forgot. Silly me. How wonderful!" She cheered in Icelandic, and it was almost like I never told her my bizarre story.
She laughed, while I just tried to smile, but it was still too difficult to lift my lips. It was more like a forced one-second smile before the weight of my lips drooped again, and I began to close my eyes, ready for sleep after my flight and chamomile tea.
I traveled up the stairs, and hung around the hallway, eyes glued to all the photos of me as a child. There were many of them, still hung in the same spots before I ran away. Me gardening with Mum. Me, Mum and Dad smiling together with the snowy peaks behind us after a hike, me on Dad's, of course. Many little portraits of me, a cute little girl with white hair and big green eyes, used to believing the voices in her head just made her magical. But then school started, and the little girl noticed the other children couldn't hear them. They judged her as crazy, until the little girl eventually believed them. The voices were no longer something to behold, but to be afraid of. She screamed around the house, demanding the voices to go away, until her parents finally agreed to have her on medications. There were few photos after that. The girl wasn't as happy, and Dad was gone.
Footsteps creaked behind me, and then a long sigh.
"Ah, looking at the old photos, ya?" Mum chirped.
I tried not to linger too much on Dad's photo, and nodded to her.
"We were a family for a while, weren't we?" I asked her, tossing my red eyes to her smile. It only grew when she looked at me.
"We are still a family, silly," she chuckled, and settled a hand on my belly.
"And growing!" She cheered. Again, I forced a smile, seeing Mum all grey, her smile too bright for me.
"Thank you, Mummy," and I really meant it.
She handed me a bundle of fresh blankets.
"Stop that. Oh? By the way, I have a hike group to guide tomorrow, but if you want, you can come. I leave here at six in the morning. You kids even wake up that early?"
I nodded, heaving a small laugh.
"I would like that," I admitted. The fresh air, the hiking, the snow. All of it.
I laid there in the twin bed, posters of popular American 90s bands still up on my walls. The Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears,NSYNC,Third Eye Blind, oh my gosh, and the Spice Girls. I groaned, hiding my face under a blanket, tempted to take down all the posters.
A small heater kept my room warm as I settled in the quietness, even still using that same nightlight in the far corner, to take away the shadows that used to come out and keep me awake. Blinking up to the ceiling, I again, raised my hand up to it. Every night I did that, hoping that someday, another hand would reach, taking me back. Green magic swirled to life around my arm, and dripped down my shoulder, keeping the cold air away.
"Aerith," I whispered, imagining her long hand, outstretched, and taking me with her into the Lifestream.
What of her world? What of the others? Of Cloud? Did Sephiroth kill them all? Did he summon meteor? It wasn't until now that I pondered these things, for the first time since returning to Earth, finally dwelling in what was going to happen to them, even if I was no longer in the picture. For a few days, I thought it didn't matter, but I had some belief, that maybe, I could go back. Like how Aerith prayed everyday for me to go to her world. I've been praying every night to return, my hand reaching for the heavens, hoping that my prayers would be answered.
I'd expected a hole to open up in the ceiling, green arms of light coiling around my body and taking me back. But of course, nothing happened.
The whispers told me what to do, if I wanted to go back.
Return to where you are from,they said to me.
I sighed, hands behind my head.
"I am where I'm from," I muttered, unsure what those words meant. But then something Mum had said about being afraid to return me, gave a pulse to something startling. I flirted with a new idea, but knew it would be awhile. If it were to work, then I may not come back, and my chest fluttered something coming alive, the pulse quickening. Hope.
I closed my eyes, but couldn't sleep, not even when it was the darkest of hour. It felt odd to be sneaking in my Mum's house in the middle of the night, to her room and crawling into bed with her, still quietly weeping. Even when I startled her awake, she quietly rubbed her long fingers along my arms and hair, pretending that I was her little girl gifted to her from the Gods. For the first time since my night with Cloud, I actually slept. Such a rare gift it was to sleep in his arms, even when I had to peel away in the early hours before Aerith were to wake up.
I daydreamed myself to sleep, falling back to that early morning, how I got maybe two or three hours of good, solid shut-eye. When I woke to find Cloud rubbing his fingers around my chin, my neck, and pushing back loose strands of hair. The hotel's special effects of thunder and lighting never waned, so when I opened my eyes, a flash fell into the room, giving me a glimpse of Cloud's face, a tired smile present. I wanted to wake up to sunshine, birds chirping, and all fresh-faced and groggy, and yet, ready for love making again. But instead, I got fake thunder and lighting, and grinned to myself at my ideal wishes versus reality. Honestly, it didn't even matter, it was still heavenly, no matter the outside world.
"Did you sleep?" I whispered to him in the dark. My fingers met with his, and together they danced between our lips.
Cloud's eyelids dropped a little, smiling shyly.
"Not even a wink," he admitted through his smile.
My eyes grew.
"Why not? Is something wrong?" I asked, lying on my stomach. Cloud pulled me closer to him, pressing his bare body against mine. I turned into him, sinking my cheek into his chest, and inhaled his scent.
"No, nothing like that," he replied, fingers tickling my back.
His heart was beating fast in my ear, and he sighed on the top of my head before kissing it.
"I just can't believe this is real," he shyly revealed. "It almost feels like a dream, and when I wake up, you'll be gone."
I kissed his scars quietly, lips following their length for as long as my neck let me.
"This is real, silly," and I smiled against his skin.
We stayed like that for a while, Cloud's heated body too comfortable to leave. I peered over his shoulder at the dark grandfather clock in cobwebs, the time a little after six.
"What time do we leave?" I ask, settling back into his chest.
Cloud rolled on his back, one arm free and hanging over the bed while he looked up to the tall ceiling with reality swimming over his face.
"If no one has a bad hangover, I say, probably seven, maybe eight. What do you think?"
I bit my lower lip.
"The later, the better," I wished aloud. "Noon?"
Cloud chuckled, and his chest rattled under my ear.
"Only if you want Shinra to infiltrate that temple before we get there," he teased.
"I know," I grumbled, and slowly, I sat up and pulled the covers away. Cloud tensed when I slipped to the foot of the bed, sitting along it to get ready to stand up.
"Where are you going?"
"I have to get back before Aerith wakes up," I worried, standing naked in the dark, my hair falling over my back.
Cloud's hand gently took my arm, stopping me from taking a step towards my dress on the floor.
I froze as he said, "Stay here. Who cares if she wakes up and you aren't there. She'll understand. This isn't something to hide."
I swallowed.
"I'm not trying to hide this," I assured, and turned, the lightning glowing my body before Cloud's eyes. Thunder cracked before I added, "I just know she will be so hung over, and I should be there for that."
It was a lame excuse, but I wasn't ready to tell Aerith. This was private, even though I knew she would just squeal with delight if I told her. Cloud wanted to believe me, and he dropped his gaze with a long inpatient sigh.
"She'll live," he muttered.
I chuckled, "Cloud!"
He threw a mischievous smile before reeling me back to bed, and I collapsed into his naked arms.
"Just a little longer," he breathed, lips resting at my forehead. And I did stay, just for a few more hours. Whispering more secrets, making love for a third time, though with careful gentleness, the both of us feeling sore, and yet, we didn't want to stop either. It wasn't even fully engaging, more of just feeling connected, and moving so slow, the intimacy of it drawing us to the tightest of embraces, lips soft and eyes resting.
I fell back asleep, smiling in his hold.
Gods, I missed him so much. Will I ever see him again? Was I going to have to get used to the idea of never going back? Will I grow old, forever trapped with ghosts of a world that no one else knows about, pointed fingers at me claiming that I have dementia? Should I accept that this is my life now?
I felt stuck in between. One foot in one world, one foot in the other.
Even when I did fall asleep, my dreams were nothing but Aerith's death. Her horrid face could be on the ceiling for all I knew, but whenever I closed my eyes, she was there, dead and smiling, following me wherever I went.
"Okay everyone, let's take a break!" Mum declared, stopping after a group of eight of us huffed and puffed up a snowy slope. Mum led a group of mostly tourists from America, speaking in English, and smiled at their terrible shape. I, too, was in bad shape, but more out of poor diet, and morning sickness. I stopped, resting my hands on my knees, and gazed out beyond the rivers and bays, towards the view of Reykjavik. It was thirty degrees outside, and the wind brought frost to my nose and cheeks, even when I huddled in a scarf under my old, fifteen year-old snow jacket.
Snow came in flurries, people taking photos of the breath-taking landscapes of the Highlands behind them, left for another day of hiking. I sat on a bench, marveling at the view of the city miles away, falling behind a white haze of falling snow. Grey clouds dispersed slightly, giving only small spaces of blue sky, but the snow kept coming down. I welcomed it even as I shivered. There was something to being out in the cold, out in nature that seemed to nurture me in a way I didn't know I needed. I smiled to myself, finally seeing the grey world slowly dissolve just a smudge. I could see just traces of blue in that sky, a teaser to a world of colors I may or may not see again. Reykjavik sat like scattered dark wisps over white water, little broken white islands and bays around it. The air was thin up here, and I inhaled it through my scarf, like sucking on a sharp mint.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" I heard Mum asked over my shoulder. I found her brushing snow off the bench and sitting down next to me, her fifty year-old body still in great shape from all the hikes, but she still breathed heavily, her heart not as it used to be. It just came with age.
"I'm glad you came," she gushed, and handed me a warm thermos of kaffi. The liquid was still hot, its heat steaming out of the little mouth opening when I took a sip.
"Not too much," Mum warned, taking the thermos back. "You don't want baby bean to get jumpy."
"Mum, it's nothing but..." but I stopped short, almost ready to argue my science brain to her mythology one, and decided against it. I didn't want to go there anymore. If I did, then that would mean I hadn't changed in ten years, and that scared me.
"But a little baby bean, you're right," I corrected, flashing a red nose smile at her.
Mum returned it, and she looked out at the view. Her messy braid held loose strands, tickling her red cheeks, and when she exhaled, her hot kaffi breath let out white clouds.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"Yeah," I agreed, trying to see the beauty she did easily, but all I could really muster was a world of grey being run over by white.
"Ya know, I was lost once. After you were gone," she was saying. "It happened during summer. I didn't hike, I didn't teach. I didn't leave the house. Nothing. I felt alone, depressed, ya know? If was one thing losing your father, but then losing you, too, when you ran away like that. Well, I didn't react to well to that either. A few years later, I fell into a deep hole of despair. I thought I would never get back on my feet again. I prayed and prayed. But then, you know what?"
I looked at her as the sun snuck in a few glimpses of light over the city.
"What? Did you get a visit from another guide? A voice?" I teased, expecting as much.
Mum ducked her head as she chuckled to herself.
She looked back at me, freckles across her nose and wrinkles under her eyes. And she said with a mocking grin, "I woke up, put on some clothes, got my ass out of the house, and walked. Walked as far as my sneakers would let me go, and after hours, I ended up here. That's when I knew, I finally got out of that dark hole. I dug myself in it, and I got myself out of it. I haven't been here since you were still a little girl, and almost forgot the first time my parents brought me here. Now I give tour hikes here once a week! There's something about going to old places, it just hits you someplace hard to reach, and it seems to wake you up."
She looked back out to the view, greeting it with a sparkle to her eye.
"And I never get tired of looking at all of this. Not even for a second," she finished. A pat on my shoulder and rising from the bench later, Mum left me to ponder on her words while watching the city get swallowed up by snow. Millions of white bullets came from the grey sky, non-threatening ammunition. I let some of them tickle at my cheeks when I looked up, breathing out many breaths of fog. The snow came so hard, I could even hear it smacking the covered ground, millions of baby claps around me. Whispers came to visit, easer to listen, telling me the same thing over and over.
Where you came from.
That pulse again. Something was slowly waking up, similar to how the world was slowly turning vibrant for me.
I stayed with Mum, taking it day by day, enjoying the time to think, to daydream, and just being home. I ate better, thanks to Mum's cooking, and slept just a little bit better, despite nightmares of Sephiroth trying to kill me or of Aerith's death. There were times I transported to that church in the slums, waiting for Aerith to come, for anyone to come. But no one ever came. I tried to focus on finding Cloud in my dreams, but it was no use. Too far away, lost, distracted, I couldn't find him.
My nightmares of Sephiroth were only of memory, not him actually visiting. It felt maddening to be stuck, like someone obsessing over a story and trying to live it, a distant outcast claiming the characters were all real.
I sat alone on a pew, head bowed between my legs, and took in the absolute silence of the church. Nothing but a darkness existed outside, a black world where I dared not venture to.
"Aerith, please," I whimpered to the dead air. I lifted my head, eyes reaching to that hole in the ceiling spilling a barren space, not casting any light nor shadow. The flowerbed was there before me, beautifully groomed as though Aerith may be tending to them in secret. But she didn't show up.
I stayed there all through my sleeping hours. Hugging my knees. Touring the nostalgic space. Running my hands into the flower bed to remind myself of the silky feel of petals. Waiting.
I sat on that flower bed, knees up to my chest, and laid my cheek into them, eyes lost to the space beside me. A ghost of Cloud laid there, still asleep after our fall off the Sector's plate. Or of Aerith fretting over her squished flowers. My chest ached. Each time I inhaled, something sharp impaled between my breasts.
"Cloud," I whimpered. "Aerith. Somebody. Please. Please don't let me go mad. Please don't let me keep going on like this. Take me back."
But, of course, nothing. Not a whisper, nor creak. Not even a breeze.
In the early afternoon of day eight, I walked towards the shores of Langisandur beach, only a fifteen minute walk before I could touch snow and sand. No one was out in the frigid afternoon. Snow took a pause, as though to give me a moment to stare out at the horizon of dark bay and distant sandbar.
Waves lapped gently, taking in inches of snow at a time, until an outline of sand remained around the world of white. Under a sky of grey, the untouched snow appeared too radiant for me. My thick rubber boots dragged across the inches of it, hitting into pebbles and sinking into wet sand. A cold breeze blew my loose white hair back, sneaking into my coat and scarf. I sank my hands into my pockets, forgetting gloves, and stopped. I stared out at the overcast, watching the black water lap towards me.
This is where I've wanted to be all along. I showed it to Cloud in a dream state, my goodbye to him before setting off with Aerith alone. I almost expected to hear his voice again, asking me where we were. This is the place. No sunset, but still, this is my home.
I've come full circle.
I looked over my shoulder at those same houses that I remembered, the white hills behind them. Just for reassurance, I dug my nails into my palm inside my pocket, until it hurt, and I stifled a small gasp, wide awake. This wasn't a dream. I'm really in Arkranes.
I looked back out to that water, and observed it for a long time, thinking, until finally, determined. Even with the sunset hiding behind the clouds at three in the afternoon, I studied it as though it was there, glowing orange. I stood there, even when my cheeks were frozen and my fingers and toes were beyond numbing. Through all of that time, I knew what I wanted to do, even if it sounded bizarre. But before I were to do that, I took my time. I waited until the lighthouse to the West flickered on, shining its little light for fishermen to come in. The snow couldn't wait any longer and began to fall, melting on top of my head.
That was my cue to leave, and I twirled back towards home, shuffling my heavy feet along.
When I entered Mum's house, I could hear her humming that song she's been in love with since I was a child. She was sitting in the living room, her laptop on her thighs, when she was humming "Moon River" to herself. When I stood there in the entryway, watching her smiling to herself while a lamp cast a soft glow on her wrinkled cheeks, she stopped, and glanced up at me.
"Aqua, what is it?"
She kindly closed her laptop, ready to dive into a deep conversation if I needed one. I stood there, looking at the walls of more photos of us, of Iceland landscapes, and Hollywood celebrities. Mum especially enjoyed "Breakfast at Tiffany's", so there was a photo from the movie in almost every room. I smirked a little at how Audrey Hepburn ogled her eyes over diamonds behind a glass window, dreaming of someday gliding into Tiffany's jewelry store. I felt like her, boring my eyes into those diamonds, how I've wanted to reach for them and feel them in my hands.
But of course, it wasn't diamonds I wanted.
I blinked my eyes away from the framed black and white photo, and settled them to the thick carpet.
"Mum," I began, fingers curling and uncurling inside my snow jacket's pockets.
"I want to take a hiking trip," I declared calmly, taking a notice to Mum's surprised expression. She wedged her laptop between the couch cushion and arm rest, blinking up at me.
"Okay. Sure. If you think you're up for that. How far along are you now?"
"Just a month now," I answered. A month pregnant, and yet the only difference I've felt is the morning sickness and the way smells kick my ass so hard, I get sick again. No bulge tummy, not yet. Tender breasts, a bit of fatigue, but nothing too troubling.
Mum considered this, her fingers up to her teeth, tempted to bite her nails.
"And where do you want to go?" She asked, the correct question.
"Lake Langisjor," I replied. The word rung heavily in the air, until it thunked hard in the middle of the living room, terrifying Mum like a bomb.
She immediately shook her head, gripping her hand rest.
"Nope. Nope." She rose from the couch, hands up in the air like she was stopping me from throwing a punch.
"Nope. Absolutely not!"
I bit my lower lip, head dipped low to avoid the worry flashed in her eyes.
"It's where I want to go," I assured stubbornly.
"In this weather, it's at least a three-day round hike, Aqua," Mum mentioned, a hand on her hip.
"And for mostly advance hikers. I don't know if that's something you should-"
"Please? I want to see where it was I was found," I fretted. If Mum wasn't going to go with me, then I would find someway to go alone. I voiced this to her, and the color drained from Mum's cheeks.
After a minute of silent tension, she finally snapped, "Get a check-up." Her tone was firm.
I ducked my head as though she threw a punch.
"Mum, I don't need a check-"
"No check up, no hike. Final answer," Mum laid out in a solid tone. I preferred not to argue with her, not when she's taken me in, fed me, and all without any judgement for what's happened.
My shoulders sagged when I sighed.
"Okay, Mum. I'll get a check-up. If I have the approval to go on that hike, will you take me there?" I offered.
Mum had a small smile, and her cheeks grew back color.
"Yes. I can do that. I'll find someone to cover me for Friday's day hike, and see what to do about my two class days," she explained.
I smiled at her before we fell into a tight embrace, and there it was again, that jasmine perfume smell, transporting me back to memories of Aerith and her floral scent. When I looked over Mum's shoulder, I found her again, standing in the middle of the living room, her blood seeping out of her wound between her breasts. I looked away, and whispered to Mum in a shaky voice, "Thank you."
There was this horrible fear that I may never escape Aerith's deathly smile, though I could never get used to it either. Even just a brief thought of her, delivered her cruel shadow into my vision, lurking in a corner, standing there next to me, or hanging over the ceiling. Everywhere I went.
I hugged Mum tighter, hoping to make Aerith's shadow disappear, but she was always there.
—
"It's a little soon, so we may not find anything too helpful yet," reported Dr. Glifford, a well-known family physician at a clinic in downtown Reykjavik.
I sat in a chair, hands relaxed over my knees of my jeans, watching Glifford write on a clipboard for some tests she wanted to be done, her young eyes fluttering long lashes behind glasses.
"We'll run a blood panel, to check your iron levels, along with a pregnancy test just to be certain. Do a pelvis exam, and get an idea of where your health is now before you come back in a couple of months," she confirmed with me.
Blood and urine were collected. When Dr. Grifford came back into the small, white room of nothing but cabinets, a chair with wrinkly paper and a computer, she closed the door and smiled.
"Well, it's official. You're pregnant, though you probably already knew that," and she giggled.
I endured the pelvis exam, my eyes suck to the ceiling, and of course, Aerith hanging there, watching me with her lifeless eyes. Blood dripped from her wound, tapping on the plastic floor like red rain drops. I closed my eyes, pretending to be back at home instead of having a woman run her fingers into my vagina.
"Well, I see nothing wrong. You want to go on a rough hike, you said?" Dr. Glifford asked, her head between my legs as she peered in with an adjustable lamp.
"Yes," I breathed, begging to have that speculum out already.
The lamp flicked off, and she finally pulled the stainless-steel tool back, my legs free to close.
"Well, I see no problem with that," she said in Icelandic, sitting on her stool casually. She pulled her gloves back with a loud smack, and smiled over my knees at me.
"Your vitals are normal. Heart sounds good. No swelling. Unless there are any issues we've discussed, be back in two months. Have fun."
And that was all the permission I needed. I did what Mum asked for, like an obedient child I never was.
The next early morning, Mum drove us in her new SUV, gritting her teeth as she took to the wheel. The drive was supposed to be five hours, though the snow delayed us. After five hours, the road turned rough, and I was thankful for Mum's four-wheel drive as the vehicle crunched and climbed over mounds of snow along route F235.
"It's going to take way longer at this rate," she grumbled, still peeved we were even going, but also frightened.
I watched how Mum's hands squeezed on the wheel, how her free foot tapped in a hyper fashion beside the brake pedal. Popular songs radio station played dimly in the background, Adele's smoky, heart-broken voice reminding me to go easy.
"You don't have to come with me," I told Mum, but she wanted none of that.
"Oh no. I'm not letting you hike three days by yourself, especially in these conditions," she muttered, the SUV jittery over the many pumps.
In between talks, I let myself get lost in the scenery. Iceland in December almost appeared like a fairytale, much of the white land pure. Under thin clouds, the flat outer lands was all white ocean, the spiky beauty of mountains ahead, a different world before we entered. It was rare to find another car on the road; easy to think Mum and I were the only two human beings for hours inland. There were a few skids and scares, but Mum managed to get us to the Sveinstindur hut, our starting point.
Mum wasn't kidding. The hike. Was. Unbearable.
Through the two feet of snow, we used snow shoes to help trek through the tundra, mostly ascending to the slopes. I was wheezing as the air thinned, my legs dying by the end of our first day.
I often had to take breaks, to vomit or to breathe. And each time I did, Mum reminded me we could go back. But I would shake my head and say, "No, we're doing this. I want to see it."
It wasn't until evening, when we made it to the high ledge. I was breathing hard, hands on my knees, when Mum and I paused. The air temperature dipped, probably in the low twenties, when I gazed out at the dying daylight behind a white land with a dark crack in the center. Heavy white clouds thinned out, displayed like white blinds giving us glimpses of hidden sunset colors of reds, orange, and purples in between. That dark crack was the lake, and it stood like an open monster's mouth, still, waiting for anything to wander into it to be swallowed into its clear depths.
Under her layers, Mum took a picture with her old digital camera.
"We're probably a thousand feet high from the lake," Mum was saying, her voice sounding a little fragile. I became watchful of her, how her eyes blinked constantly out at that distant lake, not realizing this was difficult for her.
"Mum…" I huddled closer to her as she tried to smile under her warm neck guard.
"I never wanted to come back, afraid of old memories returning, or worst, of the Gods asking me to give you back to them. But I know that's just nonsense. Even I can see that," she was saying before taking a long sigh. I knew better than to reassure her, unsure as to what will happen if I go near that water. A thrill buzzed around in my chest as Mum squinted to the high winds in her eyes, peered down the slope, and pointed to the South bank of the lake.
"There. That's where we found you," she declared.
Carefully, we descended the rough slope. When we finally got there, I was welcomed by a dark lake. No lights, nothing but the dark growing around us.
Mom took deep breaths to settle her heart, and she slumped her bag close to the quiet shore.
"Let's make a camp and add some lighting," she suggested, fogging up her lamp with her breath.
I stood just inches away from the water, my snow boots wedged deep in snow, before I inched my face closer to see nothing. There was this sudden disappointment as I paused there, waiting, but for what? I reached out to nothing, my hand hovering over the lake, expecting a hand to come out of nowhere and pull me in.
Mum unpacked our bag, and began to set up a fire in an old pit, when I heard her chuckle, "What on Earth are you doing, Aqua? Do you see someone out there?"
But out in the ragged up lake of darkness, I saw nothing. Only the water tickling the snowy shore with soft waves. I remained like that, even when Mum told me I looked ridiculous. My arm grew tired, thinking of Aerith, or Cloud appearing and taking my hand. My eyes began to burn. Soon, my body shook, but not from the cold, even as my rattling breath let out bursts of white fog.
I was never going back, was I?
My jaw shook. I swallowed, lips falling into my mouth.
Mum was right. I did look ridiculous. A blink later, a tear snuck its way around my cheek to the corner of my mouth. Finally, I let my arm slump to my side like dead weight, eyes piercing that lake so hard, I thought I could summon its waters to rise with telekinesis.
I sat with Mum around the growing fire, my bum on a log, and thinking how stupid this all was in the end.
"Are you certain this was where you found me?" I checked. The fire turned Mum orange, her naked hands rubbing close to the flames.
"Yes, this is definitely it. As isolated as I remembered," she whispered, her thoughts back to the first and last time she was here.
"It's really just a lake, my elsken. Were you hoping for more?" Mum asked, taking a sip from her thermos.
I shook my head, not in the mood to tell her what I've hoped for.
"No," I squeaked, suddenly ready for sleep.
Our tent unfolded, and then a mat to keep off the snow. I gave one last glance at the sky, more clouds dispersing until there were traces of stars. It feels like a long time since I've seen stars, left to wonder if I could see Cloud's world or other worlds out there in one of them.
—
Mum and I shared a tent, a sleeping bag to ourselves though, shoulder to shoulder. It was too dark and quiet for me to sleep deeply, left to fall in the in-between phases. While Mum just snored, deep asleep, like she's slept in the wilderness before hundreds of times. I feared what lurked out there in the pitch black world, stuck in my conscious thoughts until I drifted long enough to dream of Aerith's voice. It was the first time I've heard it in dream, since she died. She sounded so clear, over my head as I clutched to my tiny pillow, old tears smudged into the cloth.
You say you want to go back, even when you have it so well here.
I tensed, picturing her soft lips smiling sadly over me in the dark.
You have someone who loves you here. You have a home. And a child growing inside you. And yet…"
I could picture her mouth left open, the next words almost too heavy for her to say them.
You want to go back?
In my sleep, I nodded to her, falling into more awake by the time I flickered my eyelids open. It was odd to be able to see inside the tent, a once solid black place that made me bump into Mum too many times. But as I blinked and rubbed at my eyes, it was clear there was a faint light coming from outside. Was it already morning?
I shivered to the freezing temperatures outside my sleeping bag as I wiggled myself free from it, and slipped on a snow jacket over my thick wool pajama layers. I crawled towards the tent's flap and pulled at its zipper. As it opened, my eyes grew up at the sky.
I gasped, "Mum, wake up!" And shook her shoulder. She thrashed for a second, snorting and rolling to her side while garbling nonsense. "What? What?" She was slowly arousing.
My mouth stayed open as I stumbled out of our tent, not able to peel my eyes away. Quickly, I slipped on my snow boots, and crunched my way a few steps outside the tent to gawk over the green heavens.
Auroras. Green waves of them fluttered across the entire sky in aqua and green, reminding me of the Lifestream passing through. Lake Langisjor's waters were no longer dark and vacant, but alive, vibrant and green just like the sky, reflecting the Northern Lights.
"Oh my Gods," Mum gasped, her head poking out of the tent.
I studied the lake, observing how its waters were serene, and yet, lighting up in an aqua and green brilliance like bioluminescence belonged in its quiet ripples, expanding across the water to the white shore near my boots.
Mum huddled inside her thickest coat, shivering as she stepped out, mesmerized by the light show. But something else also stirred inside her, a fear. Her eyes showed it clearly as they fell to the bright lake, nose turning red and lips trembling.
"No," she whispered in a thick white breath, watching it all unfold.
Tiny green fireflies appeared, dancing over the lake's surface like jolly fairies.
I suddenly felt warm, goosebumps crawling up my skin in a tickling pleasure. My eyes grew, suddenly feeling it without able to describe it, a knowing that this was it.
Ripples grew, casting more glowing lines across the water. Little white stones protruded through, creating more waves, until I discovered they were fingers. Long, pale fingers stretched out, followed by three metal bracelets I was familiar with. The smell of flowers suddenly pushed into my nose, and I sucked in a breath sharply, feeling it trapped inside my chest as my eyes watered.
Her hand reached, followed by the short sleeve of her red denim coat, and I began to sob.
"Aerith," I gasped, taking my hand out.
"Wait, what's going on? I must be dreaming! This is a dream," Mum rattled, watching at how green magic coiled loosely around my extended arm.
I looked over my shoulder at her, in tears. And I really smiled at her.
"Thank you Mum," I whimpered. She stood there, wide eyed and lips frozen as her face lit up in green from the lake.
I turned back to my invitation in the middle of the lake, and stepped into its waters. It was warm.
"Wait!" Mum gasped, confused.
My legs brought me closer, until the water was waist high, still holding my hand out towards Aerith's hand.
My hand shook as I wept, her hand a pale green blob. It became harder to walk through water, when I decided to lunge forward, almost all of me sinking, drops splashing into the air like sparkles.
My hand touched Aerith's, and gripped as tight as I could.
Under the waves, I could barely see her, nothing but a blur of pink, when, suddenly, I was pulled in.
57