Aeris's only joy was her daily Chocobo rides to find new and unusual plants. One day, she had dismounted and was rummaging through the undergrowth that grew right on the edge of Midgar, when three very odd figures approached her.
The smallest of the three spoke. He was very fat and balding, and he bounced nervously on his heels. "Hey-hey! We're lost circus performers. Is there a village nearby where we can stay?" The other two, an attractive young woman and the biggest human being Aeris had ever seen, remained silent.
"There is no one around, not for miles," replied Aeris, gesturing behind her to the vast expanse of wasteland.
"Hey-hey! Then there will be no one to hear you scream," said the fat old man, and the woman reached out and touched a few spots on her neck, instantly rendering her unconscious.
Aeris awoke to the sound of a whirring motor. She was on an airship. The fat old man was pestering the young woman, who was at the controls. "Faster, Tifa! We have to reach the Golden Saucer by dawn if we want the Prince to find her dead body when he arrives."
The woman called Tifa ignored him. "Shut up, Palmer. Fezzik, see if the girl is awake."
The giant poked her gently in the stomach, and ticklish Aeris sat up straight. "Okay, okay, I'm up. What's all this about killing me?"
"How did you know we were talking about you?" asked Palmer, astonished.
Aeris tossed her ponytail. "Come on. I may be dim, but this whole crossover's about me. And you're obviously not killing her" she gestured to Tifa "so that leaves me. Now why am I dying?"
Palmer bounced up and down nervously. "Hey-hey! Maybe I was lying, maybe we're not really going to kill you..."
Tifa kicked him in the shins. "Shut up, Palmer. I'm sorry, kid, but we've got our orders."
Fezzik spoke up. "Borders." He pointed to the ring of land visable from the ariship's deck, far off in the distance. Tifa nodded, turned the controls over to Palmer. She glanced behind her.
"Hey, Palmer? You sure no one's following us?"
"Of course they aren't. Before I stole this airship, I asked around as to what was Shinra's fastest ship and everyone agreed it was this one. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I just happened to look back, and something is there," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
Palmer squinted into the darkness. "Hey-hey! So there is." Aeris looked, too. She could see another airship in the distance, and a figure dressed in black standing on the deck. She shivered. For some reason, the lone, mysterious figure frightened her more than the three she was with, who were admittedly planning her death.
The sun was rising a few hours later when Aeris noticed they were beginning their descent. Tifa was fiddling with the controls, bringing them gradually into the center of a desert and simultaneously trying to ditch the airship that was still closely on their tail. Finally they landed. Aeris found herself and the two others strapped onto Fezzik's back, and suddenly they were climbing up a shiny golden wire she had not noticed before. The second airship landed next to theirs, and the dark figure got out.
"He's too late!" cried Palmer. "Only Fezzik is strong enough to go up our way, and by the time he realizes that, the last ropeway car will have left North Corel!"
As if to prove him wrong, the man dressed all in black ran to the wire, grabbed hold of it, and began climbing. And to add insult to injury, he quickly gained on them, cutting their lead by a little more each minute.
"Hey-hey! How's he managing that? Go on, Fezzik, faster!" Palmer shouted impatiently.
"I thought I was going faster," replied Fezzik meekly. But his arms flew up the wire quicker than before. Still, the man in black was gaining. He had cut their lead in half.
"He's still gaining," commented Tifa briefly, glancing down.
"It doesn't matter. We've only got a hundred feet to go, and he has five times that," said Palmer. Still, he looked worried.
Fifty feet.
Twenty.
Ten.
It was over. They had reached the landing area of the Golden Saucer, still deserted in the early morning light. The man in black was still climbing up the ladder, with maybe three hundred feet left to climb. The wire stayed taut with his weight. Plamer pulled out a pair of wire cutters, and began to saw through the cable. Moments later, the wire slithered off the ledge, into the sand of the desert below. Palmer cackled, but Tifa shook her head.
"I don't believe it....he's climbing," she said in awe.
The man in black was indeed climbing. Apparently he had used the wire to swing onto the main body of the support pillar that held up the pods of the Golden Saucer, and was now inching up.
"Hey-hey, he didn't fall? Then if he gets up here, Tifa, you finish him off. Quickly. Catch up with us later." Palmer ran into the station of the park. Fezzik picked up Aeris, tied hand and foot, and followed him.
Tifa paced the ledge. She had never liked waiting, but she respected Palmer's orders. Palmer himself was an idiot, a pawn, but whoever gave him orders knew what they were doing, and so she followed those. But this waiting could probably be eliminated somehow....
She called down to the man in black. "Could you maybe hurry up?"
"No. If you want to be helpful, though, you could toss me some rope or cord or something," answered the man, somewhat peevishly.
"I could do that," she agreed. "We have some wire left over from the climb. But I don't think you'd accept my help, because I'm only waiting around to kill you." Dammit, she thought, realizing what she had said, I probably shouldn't have let that slip.
"That does put a damper on our relationship, then. I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."
"I hate waiting," she muttered. "Isn't there any way you'd trust me?"
"Nothing comes to mind."
Tifa raised her right hand. "I swear on the soul of my father, Domingo Montoya, that you will reach the top alive."
There was a long pause. "Throw me the wire," he finally responded.
Tifa tossed down the wire, which was still secured in loops around a pole on the ledge. With her help, the man in black reached the ledge and pulled himself over. Noting the scabbard at her side, he reached for his own sword. "No, no, we'll wait until you're ready," Tifa assured him. He glanced at her. "Thank you," he replied, sitting down on a small bench.
"Pardon me," said Tifa curiously, "but you don't happen to have six fingers on your right hand?" The man in black extended his right hand for inspection; it contained the correct number of fingers. "I'm sorry. It's just--my father was killed by a six fingered man." The man in black looked interested, and gestured for her to continue. "He was a great weapons-maker, my father was. One day, the six fingered man came in and asked for a sword, but not just any sword. A sword that would not only accommodate his special needs, but an incredibly long sword, and a sword worthy of legend. My father created it. He slaved a year before it was done. The six fingered man returned and demanded it--but at 1/10 the promised price. My father refused. Without a word, the six fingered man slahed him through the heart." Tifa swallowed hard. "I loved my father. So naturally I challenged his murderer to a duel. I failed. But I have studied fencing these past six years, and the next time we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to him and say 'Hello. My name is Tifa Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.'" Tifa broke out of her reverie, and laughed slightly, embarrased.
The man in black stood up. "Well, I certainly hope you find him someday."
"You are ready to duel, then?"
"Whether I am or not, you've been more than fair." He drew from his scabbard a huge sword that looked more like an oversized cleaver than anything. Tifa did the same--and put the weapon in her left hand. Her sword was the one her father had made: slender and incredibly long, it was a deadly-looking weapon. Combined with her incredible fencing skills, she foresaw a short match. More than anything, she wanted it to be equal; she wanted a challenge. She noticed the man in black was left-handed, and she felt better, her weakness against his strength. They crossed swords.
A/N: The next part will come very very soon! PROMISE!