The Dark Phoenix

By Aerith/Daphne Sy

Part 7- The Nightmare Begins

Chapter 29- The Merciless Elements

The freezing ocean waves washed the deck greedily with their salty tongues as the helpless ship caught in the core of their violence was tossed through the harsh seas.  Sephirah clung to the railing with all of her might, ignoring the wet strands of silver hair that whipped into her face, her features set in a grim expression as she braved the heaving waters.  It had been barely more than three days now since they had taken leave from Costa Del Sol, Sephirah saying her heartfelt goodbye not only to Jeremy, but to the villa that had shown her so much about her own self.  Jordan and Derek's calls could be heard faintly over the clamorous rushing of the infuriated waves, frantic as they lashed the equipment and supplies to the deck before they took shelter once again from the storm.  Numbness began to set into Sephirah's limbs, spreading from her shoulders to fingertips as she clutched at the sodden shawl wrapped around her body, feeling the effects of the cold weaken her being and tug cruelly on her consciousness.  She shielded her eyes from the pounding rain with the corner of her wrap, peering into the impenetrable darkness for some sign of Jordan and Derek, anxious and worried fiercely about their safety.  She was so distracted by the cold that she didn't even notice when Jordan had crept up behind her and called her name in a stern voice, chiding her for being so foolish as to come up on deck.

"Sephirah!  Didn't I tell you to wait in the cabin?  You're going to catch cold!" Jordan scolded her with a humored smile, reaching out to take her into his arms and lead her into the safety of the inner chambers.  Indignant at being shamed but relieved that her beloved was still safe, the young Miss Strife accepted his embrace, and together they emerged into the dry forward cabin.  Both of them were completely drenched through their clothes and shivered from the powerful cold that crept through their skin, forcing a painful chatter from Sephirah's paled lips.  As she met Jordan's eyes across the room, compulsive shudders lancing through their systems, the couple burst out simultaneously into choked laughter, their lungs barely able to cough out the effort through the numbing cold.  Jordan soon resolved this by producing a tarnished green orb implanted into a tattered leather strip and held it out before him, whispering the word "fire" beneath his breath.  Before long, a petite but cheerful blaze was crackling gently in the small pile of stones in the center of the room.

"I didn't know that you knew how to use Materia…?" Sephirah broke through the silence with mild surprise.  Jordan's eyes twinkled and danced in mock disgust as he answered her, a warm laugh present in his throat.

"Not know how to use Materia?  My lady, I'm insulted!  I may be a simple sailor, but I'm not uneducated…" he said with a welcoming smile as he shed his sodden shirt and pants and laid them near the fire to dry.  Sephirah hesitated, but with Jordan's coaxing, she relented and cast off her clothing before the fire, still rather shy of her nakedness near her lover while clad in little more than her undergarments.  Jordan crept quietly over to her and laid his arm around her shoulders, offering her his warmth and support, which she was more than happy to accept.  They were soon warmed by the dancing flame, a slow smile of content spreading across both of their faces as they lay silent in each other's arms, ignorant of the sheer power of the raging storm and the fate that lay ahead for the both of them that night…

A sinister laugh seemed to howl with the roaring winds as they clashed in a battle that would prove fatal in the bottomless waters of the Junon seas.  Sephirah had no idea that a shadow she had long forgotten in the depths of her mind was watching over her in utter contempt, eager to wreak his revenge upon his straying follower…

Meanwhile, Sephirah and Jordan lay in the warmed cabin, oblivious to the cruel path upon which life was soon to force them to tread.  Safe and secure in each other's arms, the couple had begun to feel comfortable with the stormy nights, almost welcoming the chance to reside alone together.  Their clothing had long since dried, but neither had taken any notice as the sun had dipped over the horizon, still hiding behind the heavy cloud cover.  A feeling of unrivaled content began to dominate the young woman's senses as she heard the gentle snores of her beloved laying beside her, the warmth of his bare skin pressed against her body soothing her weary mind.  She no longer felt so empty, for Jordan was her key, what filled her up and made her feel so secure… Just as her eyelids finally began to droop and she was about to pass from the conscious world into slumber, a sudden chill raced down her spine, releasing a frantic bout of adrenaline into her bloodstream with a start.  Her eyes widened in shock as if she had suddenly plunged into a bath of freezing water, causing her to leap to her feet in alarm.  Jordan was awakened by the startled movements, and gazed up at her inquisitively with a drowsy stare.  Still shivering from internal cold, Sephirah instinctively dressed to ward off the unseen elements, donning the now warmed dress and shawl that she had earlier discarded.  Jordan followed her example without a murmur, somehow feeling that ominous shudder within his own body, until they sat in full clothes, staring awkwardly across the silence of the cabin at each other.

Without warning, a violent shudder shook the entire ship, throwing Sephirah roughly to the floor.  Jordan managed to clamber unsteadily to his feet with an exclamation of alarm, panic etched on his youthful features.  "What the hell was that?!" he swore under his breath as the quake struck again and he crawled towards the door.

"Sephirah, stay inside!  I'm going to go get Derek and see what's going on…" Jordan called back from the doorway, barely audible over the roaring waters and howling winds as he stood battered by the forces of nature, braving the pouring torrents before managing to yank the door closed behind him.  Sephirah's heart leapt to her throat but she did not rise to follow him, and instead waited in the desperate hope of seeing Jordan's boyish smile once again framed by the cabin threshold.  She could feel the way her heart pounded, squeezing her lifeblood painfully past her throat as she heard the faint presence of frenzied shouting over the clamor of the storm.  Their voices raised even louder, though not more audible, as the ship rocked and shook again with powerful force and a frantic scrambling could be heard against the wall of the cabin as Jordan yanked open the door, his hair wet and dripping, his eyes alight with terror.  His voice seemed incoherent to Sephirah as she crawled over to him, ignoring the ship's wild movements, and she stood face to face with his again drenched form.

"L-Lightning…" he gasped to her, raising a hand to wipe the strands of dripping hair from his eyes as he took her in his freezing grasp and led her onto deck.  "We have to abandon ship… the lifeboat's on this side.  Get in!" Jordan persisted, shoving her deftly into a small dinghy attached to the starboard side of the craft.  Sephirah screamed in terror as another bolt of brilliant light smote the ship, splintering the deck in its powerful rage and sending Jordan flying overboard.  The dinghy broke free from its restraints as Sephirah grabbed Jordan's hand, and using her formidable strength, hauled the unconscious sodden form of the boy into her lap.

As the hungry flames seared the dying ship and the wreckage began to sink beneath the greedy waves, Sephirah searched frantically for a sign of Derek but found nothing but darkness in the strangely concentrated energy of the storm.  A sort of bewildered relief began to settle over her mind as the tiny raft was whipped away from the site of destruction, restoring a hope that they may escape with their lives from the wrath of the angry seas.  Just as the larger craft disappeared beneath the waters, a weak smile of triumph at their survival spread across Sephirah's exhausted features.

Unfortunately, she had let down her guard too early as the fury of the storm closed over her a final time in its fiery wrath, striking the raft with tremendous force.  Sephirah shrieked in agony as bolts of pure energy lanced through every inch of her saturated body, her world exploding into a bright bluish light before forcing her limp body to settle into the impending darkness.

The shattered flotsam that was all that remained of the lifeboat that once held the two escapees drifted amongst the calming waves that pushed their two burdens towards foreign shores.  As if from a distance, a merciless chuckle resounded on the cold ocean winds, filling the heart of every sailor, whether on a voyage or marooned at the docks, with a deep and foreboding chill that none could identify.  The news of the tyrannous flash storm had reached every port city on the planet, delaying all ships during that day for fear that the wicked magic may strike up again, while people could only contemplate the lives that it may have claimed in its first horrifying rampage.

A cold sweat beaded upon the brow of Cloud Strife, jerking him from the nightmares of slumber into the realities of life.  His wide, feverish eyes darted madly about in paranoia as he stared beyond the walls of his humble Cosmo Canyon lodgings.  None had so much as dared approach his room since Tifa had dashed down to the meeting room, sobbing fitfully her tale of his insanity that pristine morning a few days previous.  A dish of uneaten cuisine had long gone cold in the corner of the hallway, but Cloud felt neither the desire nor the hunger for food.  Perhaps a glass of water may have quenched his raging fever, but fluids weren't on his mind at the moment, the necessities of life replaced by an ominously looming figure of shadow, always laughing cruelly at his struggles, at his physical and emotional suffering…

Sephiroth was an omnipresent figure within Cloud's deteriorating sanity, tormenting him with every thought, every utterance from his imagined throat.  Cloud swiped desperately at his shadow but found nothing more than nothingness, a reflection of himself that he could never conquer, the side of him he could never understand and control as most people did.  The hideously sinister chuckle echoed through his existence, driving Cloud's still rather fragile mental state even further through deterioration.  As he dropped to his knees in surrender, his powerful hands reached up and clutched his ears within their grasp, his short nails nearly managing to draw blood due to the force of his exerted pressure.

"Cloud!" a gruff voice penetrated the gloom, shattering the broken visages of his loathed enemy that seemed to loom all around him, setting him face to face with…

"Vincent…?" Cloud managed to gasp in incredulity; his breath came in ragged gasps, tearing through the dry tubules that formed his bronchioles, forcing a rasping cough to erupt from his chest.  His golden spikes were now in complete disarray, disturbed from their former position and now protruding in all angles from his scalp.  He shivered with the intensity of his terror and the set tension of his muscles, caused by the paranoia that emitted from the very depths of his mind.  Within the space of a moment, his head bowed once more and he fell to the ground, screaming as if in acute agony, grasping his head between his hands and pressing them against his temples in an attempt to relieve the pain.  A force began to struggle against him, the cold touch of metal biting deeply into the skin of his left forearm, the searing pain and the sheer strength of this new influence beginning to jerk Cloud back into proper consciousness.

"Cloud!  CLOUD!  Wake up, dammit!" Vincent's rasping growl resounded in Cloud's ears as the man tightened his grasp on the pitifully thrashing figure in frustration, causing several bright crimson drops to ooze down his elbows and drip onto the cold stone floor.  In surprise at his accidental brutality, Vincent withdrew his grip, staring mindlessly at the blood that lined his claw, staining the appendage a brilliant shade of red.  A bloodlust began to rise from within his undead soul, a longing that dominated and controlled his entire mind, omnipotent against whatever humanity was left within the dying shell that was his body.  Cloud watched in open mouthed horror as his friend morphed and became the formidable Chaos before his very eyes, panic flooding through the weakened man's veins.  With this feeling of helplessness flowed a warrior's surge of adrenaline as Cloud clambered to his feet and leapt clear over Chaos's bowed head and began to bolt down the hallway at a break-neck pace.

"Help me!!" Cloud's frenzied scream resounded down the canyon steps as he leapt down the stairs in search of someone, anyone that could help…

The fragile figure nearly collided head on with Barret's robust form as he headed through a doorway.  Spinning dazedly off course, Cloud stumbled weakly towards the cliff edge, teetering perilously over the horrific slope.  Barret, who still luckily retained the strength and reflexes of his youth, grabbed Cloud by the collar and managed to haul him back to safety.

"What the hell you think you doin', foo?!" Barret barked, his voice harsh as he pulled Cloud to his feet and berated him.  Seconds later, a savage scream of a creature in pain reached Barret's ears, and he dropped the disoriented man and darted towards Nanaki's observatory as quickly as his hulking form could manage.

Chapter 30- A Final Chance

The sound of rushing water seemed to haunt Sephirah's tormented mind, distorting every sense, flooding her lungs, and filling every available region of her body.   She struggled in sheer desperation to break free of her watery prison, her brain screaming for oxygen.  A light seemed to appear ahead, one that seemed to promise warmth, life, and most of all, precious air…

From within the thick foggy darkness, a pair of powerful hands reached out to restrain her, pinning her arms down as she attempted to swim towards the visage of hope.  Her desperation amplified as she sank back away from the life-giving gas that her failing body so desperately needed…

An acute pain lanced through her arm, followed by a strange unnatural feeling of drowsiness and calm.  Within moments the muscles of her chest relaxed and were taking in air, and overcome by the longing for sleep, she lapsed back into complete unconsciousness.

It wasn't until the evening two full days later that Sephirah was able to penetrate the darkness into a state of wakening, and she opened her eyes to the cool, natural navy blue of night.  From beneath heavy eyelids, she managed to observe that there was a stranger bent over her, a middle-aged man with familiar eyes…

"Marm, can you speak?" inquired the soft but deep voice, "You've been thrashing and moaning in your sleep, and I've had to use quite a few tranquilizers to calm you and make sure you don't inflict any injuries on yourself."

In answer to this, Sephirah opened her mouth in an attempt to force words forth, but she heard nothing but a strangled squeak, accompanied by a sensation of searing pain.  Her hands flew instinctively to her burning throat, nursing the swollen nodes in her neck.  The man saw all of this and understood, helping her to sit up as he dipped a small drinking gourd into a jug of fresh water.  He spoke as he guided the container to her lips, his voice fringed with puzzlement.

"I don't know why, but you seem so familiar…" he murmured and scratched his head as he spoke his thoughts aloud.  Sephirah gazed around the room with interest as she gulped down the offered water, noticing the strewn maps and badly kept state of the tent.  Open cans of rations were carelessly discarded in every available area, and digging gear lay in heaps in the corners of the dwelling.  The maps and compasses caught her eye as she finished and she looked to the stranger for answers.

"…Where am I?  Who are you?" she asked slowly, as if unsure of herself.  The man didn't hesitate to answer, his tone warm and soothing to her bewildered senses.

"Relax… Miss, you're in the Bone Village excavation site, on the northern continent.  I'm Cal… Short for Calvin of course.  We found you washed up on the beaches to the south of town just a few days ago.  I assume your ship was wrecked in that nasty storm we just had recently.  But don't worry; you're in good hands…"

It was as she gazed up at him that she was finally able to study the face of the man who was caring for her. Short black hair hung in awkward angles, cascading in a fountain of spikes towards his neck.  It was as her eyes rose to observe the features of his face that their gazes locked.  His irises resembled a terrible midnight storm, as intense and piercing as the one whose wake she was left in, battered and beaten by the elements.  Yet a strange, inhuman presence seemed to loom from within the shadows of the man's soul, causing Sephirah to shudder.  But at the moment their eyes locked, his gaze wrenched away in fright, and a great shudder came over the stranger's entire form, which took great difficulty to subdue.

"W-Who are you?" he asked between chattering teeth.  "Why do I see him in you?"

Thoroughly confused, Sephirah stared at the man blankly, studying his features in hope of recognition.  He was tall and strong of build, almost abnormally so.  Through dressed in thick garments, the back of his bare hand could not hide the small insignia tattooed into his flesh.  There a dark number 14 was etched, Sephirah noted curiously, but figured that it wasn't time for questions.  It was then, as she attempted to answer his inquiry, that she felt the wave of utter hopelessness wash over her, and with a start of fright…

 Sephirah realized that she couldn't so much as remember her own name.

Within a few seconds, an old woman tottered through the tent flaps, only to see Calvin doubled over on the floor, shivering.  She rushed to his aid, helping him to sit upright and chanting an Esuna spell to calm him.  After a few minutes of stunned silence, the old woman released Cal and turned her attention to Sephirah with a weary smile.

"I'm sorry about that, child.  He has fits like this every once in a while.  But I see that you're awake," she said with a cheery grin, extending her gnarled fingers to caress Sephirah's frozen cheeks.   The girl made no movement though, her entire being immersed deep into a sense of panicked shock.  "…Is there something wrong?" the elderly lady asked, brushing back a stray strand of long silver hair from Sephirah's face.

"…I… I can't remember…" she murmured, her head ducked into her hands, which gripped her cranium like an unrelenting vice.  "I can't remember anything…" A sob of frustration punctuated this remark, her fists clenching nervously over her long bedraggled tresses.  Suddenly, a strong arm slipped around her back, offering her comfort.

"Hey… I'm sorry about all of that.  I don't know what came over me…" whispered Cal's voice soothingly into her ear.  "We found some things that might help you," he continued, letting go of her long enough to rummage into a drawer at the bedside.  A few light clinking noises mystified Sephirah as to what the objects might be before Cal emerged with a groan, towing after him a small velvet pouch.  He tossed this to Sephirah, who quizzically upturned it into her lap.  A flash of brilliant green accompanied the tinkle of a silver chain as Sephirah stared with rapt fascination at the beautiful pendant before her.  As she turned the mysterious materia orb over in her hand, she could feel the power that radiated into her body, filling her with strength.

"That's not all… there's one more," Cal gestured, so Sephirah once again shook out the contents of the bag, and was rewarded with a light clunk as an engraved wizard's bangle with a restore all combo tumbled against the necklace.

"Put them on, and then listen to me," said the old woman, and Sephirah complied wordlessly, restoring the materia to their respective places of power on her body.  "First of all, my name is Irein, and I am the elder of this little expedition.  We were sent here to attempt excavation more towards the coastal edges of the continent when we found you lying on the beach.  We found those two pieces of jewelry on your body, and decided to put them in safekeeping until you recovered.  We have no idea where you are from, or where you are going…" sighed Irein, rubbing a rheumatic wrist as she spoke, "But… what we can tell for sure is that you are a warrior.  Very few people are found carrying around materia such as the one around your neck.  We tried to match it with our knowledge of all commonly known spells, but we could not.  Perhaps its secret is lost in the waves along with your memory… But the important thing is that you regain a little knowledge of yourself before we can send you on your way.  You will have a home amongst us as long as you please."

Sephirah smiled and thanked Irein, but inwardly her heart sank in her breast.  So no one knew her or anything about her or where she was going, she reasoned in righteous distress.  She fingered the chain around her neck, twisting it over her finger in distracted silence until Cal spoke again.

"So… can you try to tell us your name?" he attempted to prompt her, but Sephirah shook her head stolidly.

"It's like everything is a huge blank… A chalkboard wiped clean with a piece of wet cloth," she sighed, flipping back her hair.  "I can't remember who I am, where I'm from, or where I was going… It's frightening, as if you're trapped alone in a prison of glass, having lost everything that makes you… you.  It seems like it should be so easy just to break out and escape, but you can't, because the only thing you have left to hang onto for strength is your fear."

"Well, then… we need something to call you," Cal said cheerily, looking to Irein for approval.  "Let's call you… Kaera!"

Sephirah, now known as Kaera, nodded hesitantly, rather liking the sound of the new name even though she knew it not to be hers.  "All right… my name is Kaera," she said slowly, still gazing deep into the emerald depths of her materia pendant.

"Don't worry, dear… We'll do everything in our power to help you regain your memory," soothed Irein as she rose to leave.  "For now, we want you to rest and regain your strength.  We'll discuss more in the morning."

It was as Irein was just stepping out into the cold sting of the evening wind that Sephirah sat up with a jolt and called after her with a voice filled with frenzied terror.

"Where is he…?" she asked under her breath, her tone trembling with her fear.

"To whom are you referring, child?" Irein questioned in startled confusion of the outburst.

"I-I'm not quite sure…." said Kaera tentatively, "But just now, as I was looking at this piece of materia… I could hear a voice.  It was saying… oh, I couldn't hear it properly!  But somebody was calling me… and it sounded so sad."

A somber expression descended like a dark curtain over Irein's face.  "Tell me, Kaera… do you remember if you had a companion on your journey?"

Sephirah glanced at her quizzically in return.  "I don't know… why?"

Cal shot an uneasy glance towards Irien, his huge hands fidgeting in his lap as if he were debating something important.  The stormy gray eyes were downcast with shame and sorrow as the silence clashed against Sephirah's anxious ears.  But before she was able to open her mouth to pursue the matter, Cal was already blurting out the story, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"Why, you ask?  Well… because a few hours after we rescued you… another body washed ashore.  It was a young man this time.  We tried to save him… but in the end, we couldn't.  The boy died in a delirious state just a few hours ago, in Irien's tent.  We don't know what happened for certain…"

Kaera had been listening to the story in a state of morbid fascination, reflecting for a few moments before she chose to speak her thoughts.  "A young man, eh…?  What was his name?"

Cal shrugged in reply.  "We don't know… we couldn't get much sense out of the guy!  But I was thinking… that maybe if we brought you to him…"

"…That she might remember something?" Irein finished with a sigh.  "I was thinking the same, but… the chances that these two have anything more to do with each other than both being in the wrong place at the wrong time is slim to nil.  It also might be traumatizing for her to see… the dead can be unpleasant to behold, even when fresh.  But the choice belongs to you, child."

Kaera swallowed her nervousness and nodded with determination at her newfound friends.  "I'll do it!  Anything to gain back my memories… even if the chance is small."

And so it was with those words of consent that the last of the Ancients sealed her own fate, unwittingly rejecting life's last offer for freedom and peace.

Chapter 31- Tears for the Past

The fresh presence of death hung like a heavy fog over the quiet sea of tents that formed the excavation encampment.  Though few people had been involved, and many less borne direct witness to either of the pair who were recovered from the violent waters only days before, everybody seemed to be filled with a respect for the man who had just recently passed from life.  The silence seemed to embrace Sephirah, the darkness wrapping soothingly around her as she shivered in the evening wind.  It felt almost as if she belonged to the night, as if she were conceived under the velvety black sky, and born into a noiseless world…

It didn't take long before Irein wove her way through the heaps of canvas back towards her own dwelling, which seemed a considerable amount neater than Cal's, Kaera noticed upon first glance.  She entered into the pitch black, and motioned for Kaera to wait outside.

"I shall only stop here for a moment.  There is something I must bring…" Irein called back in a hushed voice, and Sephirah could hear the grating slide of a drawer closing before the woman emerged and carried on their miniature pilgrimage.  Passing a few more tents, Irien finally halted a few yards from a crudely erected hut, unable to meet Sephirah's inquisitive glance.

"We tried to honor him as best as we could, but there was no extra tent canvas to be had, and it had to be burnable material…" Irein explained, her voice faltering.  "Yet all of us are afraid… not of the man, but of the way he died.  When you look upon him… I shall try to help you to understand."

A strange sense of nervousness broke free and rampaged within Sephirah, almost causing her to tell Irien that she'd rather turn around and head back to Calvin's place.  Yet a part of her heart was so curious, so drawn to the mysteries presented by life… Perhaps if she had been strong enough to conquer her own self, she may have been spared the pain that loomed ahead in her path.  The curious Pandora had been born again within Sephirah, and her box lay ahead in this tent… for as soon as she entered, she would leave behind any innocence that remained within her.

So with tentative steps, Sephirah breached the last remaining barrier lying between her and the eternal nightmare…

When she reached the crude opening of the hut, she paused and glanced nervously back at Irien, whose ashen face wore no reassuring smile as she handed her the glimmering lantern in silence.

"I-I can't go in there right now.  I can't bear the look upon that boy's face…" Irein whispered, shivering with terror at the very memory.   "So go.  Glance upon the dead.  But I… I cannot."  With that comment, Irien averted her gaze, and Sephirah swallowed a nervous lump in her throat before striding into the darkness of the hut.

The stench of death hung in the still air, causing Sephirah to gasp in disgust at the noxious fumes.  The lamp cast its gentle glow over the stony bier at the center of the room, and she noticed that the body that lay on top of it was covered in a thick layer of prairie grass, shielding the corpse from view.  She inched closer, the lump in her throat swelling until she thought she would surely choke and die in this terrible room, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, pleading loud to end its suffering. Her hands trembled as she reached out, hesitant as she swept away the layer of grass that concealed the head and torso.  A black shroud was revealed in the gentle glimmer of the lamplight, showing Sephirah that she had yet another impediment to conquer before she uncovered that for which she was searching.

She closed her eyes as she reached for the corner of the dark linen, and with a swift, decisive tug, she removed the shroud from the body in a thick cloud of dust and hay.

Sephirah eased an eye open carefully… wary of that which she had been warned of.

The young man's body was still and cold, the position peaceful, hands clasped over an unmoving chest.  Powerful muscles lined every limb in thick covering, not yet wasted in death.  A few scars traced the length of his body, evidence of recent burns.  He was unclothed, but Sephirah was not taken aback by the telltale organs of manhood.  Somehow, she knew him…

No longer afraid, Sephirah was filled with a strange sensation of warmth as she extended a hand to caress the frozen cheeks, finally allowing the lantern's light to glance over his face.

A feeling of complete sickness settled within the pit of her stomach; a being seemed to writhe in its painful death throes within the depths of Sephirah's consciousness.  Her world twisted, her vision blurred with brilliant colors as she dropped the lantern and slumped to the floor, holding her throbbing head in her hands.  She began to scream in terror of the image implanted into her mind's eye, no longer needing the light to behold the expression on the face of the diseased man.  Pictures began to scramble into her mind like the floods that followed the bursting of a dam, wild and powerful because of the pressure from the build up of the river.

Sephirah began to shriek like a wounded animal, a terrible cry the likes of which had never been heard in the entire history of the Planet…

Calvin rushed into the scene, dragging with him a battery powered lamp, a somber expression seated on his stolid face.

"Kaera!!  My GOD, what the hell was that?!" he screamed, dropping to his knees by her side.    She had begun to sob violently, her long fingers clawing at her face, trying to remove the terrible memories from her vision.  "Stop that, or you'll hurt yourself!!  KAERA!!!" Calvin shouted as he wrenched free her wrists and shook her violently.  The beautiful aquamarine eyes gazed up at him in terror, her face streaked alternately with the wet paths of tears and the red marks of damaged flesh.  Crimson blood streamed from a self-inflicted cut on her cheek, mingling with the tears as they spilled down her chin.  She only hesitated for a moment before she was thrown back into hysterics once again, and Calvin was forced to whip out a tranquilizer injection and jam it into the thick muscles of her upper arm.  Sephirah screeched in pain as she grabbed at her injured triceps, but fell quickly into an artificially induced stupor.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, Kaera…" Calvin whispered soothingly to her hyperventilating form, "I wish I didn't.  The dose I gave you wasn't as strong as most, but it'll calm you down until you can regain your senses.  If I had known you'd react this way… No, listen to me, woman!"  His huge hands reached out and pinned her arms down to the grass-strewn floor of the hovel.

"Why…?  W-Why… does it hurt so much?" Sephirah gasped, barely able to spit out her words.

"I'm not sure I know why," Cal's voice came sternly, with a paternal tinge to it, "All I can tell you is what I know… Maybe it'll answer some of your questions."

"We found this man just a bit after you washed up on our beaches.  He was not in good condition… he had been badly burned by some powerful form of energy, and had almost drowned.  He was injured worse than you, but the lad put up quite a valiant fight to live, and regained consciousness only a day later.  Most of what he was saying made no sense; it was mainly gibberish coming from his delirium… but he kept repeating a word.  'Sephirah'… Irien thought this was odd… so she left the tent just for a moment to retrieve her medicine bag from my place.  But when she had returned only minutes later… He had died.

"We were all completely dumbfounded.  He wasn't ill enough to pass on yet, and had been well on his way to recovery.  Then… we found this."

Cal drew from a compartment in his coat a black suede pouch, and withdrew from it an orb tied crudely onto a neck thong.  No light reflected off the smooth black surface of the materia… Sephirah gasped in revulsion and terror.

"This… was recovered, twisted around the man's neck.  From the bruise marks you can see on the corpse… he was strangled to death by it.  Cold-blooded murder…" Cal shivered, seeking warmth and comfort in the electric lamplight.  "We found no killer… only Irien, I, and a few others even knew that he had been found at all.  No one had been seen emerging from the tent, or going into it.  This has got us completely stumped… Kaera?!"

Her eyes were squeezed painfully shut, the tears still streaming freely as she gnashed her teeth, writing slightly in internal pain.  "No… don't call me that.  …Call me… Sephirah."

Cal's eyes widened slightly, then settled into an expression of regretful understanding.  "So it was you… it makes sense now.  What he was saying… He kept telling us that he had to protect you…"

"I failed him…" Sephirah whispered in agony, "I swore… that I'd always be at his side… that no matter what, I'd never forget the sound of his voice, or the look of his face…"

"No… you're still by his side, Kaera," Cal reassured her soothingly.  "I know this is hard… you two must've been so close—"

"I loved him, for god's sake!" Sephirah screamed in interruption, huddling into a quavering ball on the floor. "I promised him that as soon as we'd reached Junon, we'd marry…  With him, every dream I'd ever had could come true, so long as he was by my side…  Jordan filled me with everything I ever lacked in life… warmth, contentment, love…  Even now, my heart is filled only with him, and a longing for his love.  I have nothing else left now… no other memories, no future…"

Cal sighed in resignation as the steely eyes closed and he spoke.  "I… understand only too well.  There are things I don't understand either… about myself.  Perhaps at some later date, I'll tell you about them.  But Kaera, I am like you… I was flung back into this world with no sense of myself, and not so much as my own name.  But I learned something; no matter what you've lost, as long as you have life, it's always worth it to struggle on.  The pain may be intense, and the urge to succumb to death and hatred is powerful… but it makes you all the stronger.  Your lover--Jordan, was it-- would be sad to know that you've wasted the gift he's had stolen from him, and would undoubtedly be wishing for you to continue on.  Know one thing: if you were all that was in his mind as he lay on his deathbed, then he truly did love you, with all of his heart and soul.  I… would know…" he finished painfully.  "But the point is that you can't give up.  You've got to move on…"

"…How can I forget?  How, with no other memories to shroud my mind, can I forget the look on his face?  The way the warm of his touch was… snuffed out?" Sephirah whimpered quietly at Cal through the thick cold air of night.

"I'm not asking you to forget, daughter.  I'm asking you… to live, and always to love him.  I'm asking you to forgive him for leaving you.  That's all…" Cal soothed her, drawing her into his arms.  She nodded silently, her tears distorting her vision as a sob racked up from her lungs internally.  A grim smile formed upon her traumatized features, followed by a sinister giggle that shocked Calvin.

"The worst part… is that I know what happened.  I know who killed him, and why… It's my fault, Cal.  There's no need to search for a killer," Sephirah said, her voice suddenly calm yet laced with ironically murderous fury, "…It's my battle, and I swear before the Planet itself that I will avenge my beloved!!"

With those final words, Sephirah allowed Cal to lift her weakened form in his arms and carry her back to his tent, where she fell into a deep slumber, haunted by visions of the nightmare that had only begun…

Back in the tent where Jordan lay, the once vivid face of the corpse was twisted into an expression of desperate, loving calm.  The gentle features held no anger, no horrible distortion… only an overwhelming sorrow and regret that seemed to radiate from the youthful form.  It was the impact from these emotions that struck Sephirah harder than any form of mauling or dismemberment imaginable that the body could have experienced.

She would never, for the rest of her life, forget the painfully loving expression that lay on Jordan's face as the breath was choked from his injured form.

Chapter 32- Starless Night

The wind rustled through Sephirah's shimmering tresses as she leaned over the ship's deck, an expression of quiet reflection carved into the gentle features of her face.  A tiny black pouch on a cord was twisted around her finger and she whirled it absentmindedly, allowing it to dangle precariously over the edge of the railing.  She had no use of it anymore…

The Black Materia…

It was a symbol of her bondage, of the quest that had led her so many times to the very gates of hell… and somehow managed to lead her back to the land of the living.  And now its evil was installed within her, eating away at her heart and soul with every passing second.  She had already begun to feel, ever so faintly, the effects of the Phoenix consuming her, weakening her being and filling her entire body with an eerie sensation of cold…  She gritted her teeth in determination, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to staunch the agonizing ache that throbbed in her bloodstream.  Gradually it subsided, leaving her nearly breathless from the exertion.  It was then that her mind was made up…

Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, Sephirah taped every ounce of her mental strength, lifting the tiny sack over her head and tossing it out over the heaving ocean.  She watched as it struck the surface of the water with a solid plunk, sinking like a leaden weight into the depths below.

Sephirah shivered, clutching at her bare arms and drawing the fluttering shawl tighter around her slender figure.  Hopefully now, the past would be forever buried… The waves had promised to conceal her secret for eternity. 

With a final, nervous glance back towards the rowdy ocean waters, Sephirah turned and sought out Jordan for comfort from the storm that raged within her own soul. 

Sephirah screamed as she woke from her brief and troubled slumber, the skin of her face painfully dry and caked with the remnants of her tears.  She was drenched completely in a cold sweat, produced by the terror and agony that she was internally inflicting upon herself.  Her mind was becoming weaker by the moment; more susceptible to the cold cruelty of the world in which she lived.  Half crazed by her anguish, Sephirah rose to her feet, limping painstakingly to the window where the light of the full moon shone through, broken only by the tiny dancing shadows of snowflakes as they drifted slowly towards earth.  The sky seemed to be weeping as freely as Sephirah was this lonely night, as if having borne witness to the love that ended in terrible tragedy.

The tears burned and stung at Sephirah's eyes as if they were acid, sapping the very water from her blood and leaving it feeling thick and sluggish.  She whimpered quietly, barely able to control the ragged breaths that rasped from deep within her throat.  She clenched her teeth until the very bones in her skull screamed with anguish, but she didn't mind; in fact, part of her was enjoying the physical torture because it was far less agonizing than what was taking place within her heart.  A strange masochistic gleam was present in the woman's eyes as she laughed her misfortunes into the midnight air.  Her voice was not filled with mirth, however; it was weighed down with the heavy burden of mourning, not only for her lost love, but for her lost youth as well.

"It's not been even two years from my 16th birthday… the day my journey began," she muttered bitterly in remembrance of the sword that seemed to haunt her as if it were a shadow of her own fate.  It would be a long time before she realized that this battle was not hers alone; it had been suffered by her mother, and her ancestors before her for thousands of years.  It was her destiny as an Ancient to bear the crosses of the human race… and so she would until the moment she died.

But the young woman could barely believe that she was still only 16 years old, not even considered an independent adult by most societies.  It had seemed like years ago that she last seen her father, much less lived under his roof.  Sephirah was ashamed of her own foolishness because it was what had given to her such a terrible ordeal.

It was then that she understood something that only those who can truly search within themselves can find… It wasn't about pitying herself anymore.  Life wasn't about what tragic events marred her spirit; it was about the joys that she found in between them, the good friends and loving family who were always there with a smile and a comforting word… She didn't live solely to please herself, but to serve those that she loved, and to find her happiness in doing so.  No matter what happened, she would live this life that Jordan loved so much.  Even though he had already joined the Lifestream, she could still feel him beside her, urging her to wipe away the tears that glistened so brightly against her skin.

"I wish I could've protected you, beloved… There's nothing I want more than to turn back the clock… to undo the mistakes that I caused.  If only I could've been your shield against his power…" she sighed, reaching instinctively to her side to stroke back his hair.  But instead of the silky feel of his tresses, she met the cold hard leather beneath her fingers.  She drew her hand back with a gasp of surprise…

Because laying there, as if it were a cruel overseer of her "contract," was the Masamune, propped up against the chair back.  She definitely knew she hadn't moved it there herself, and with a mocking laugh, she spoke into the nothingness.

"Mother… Jordan… what did they suffer for?  I'll never let you hurt them again, Sephiroth!" she ranted, her eyes alight with determination.  As if claiming witness to that uttered promise, the night sky suddenly burst into an array of colors, the sun stirring the chilly air slowly into the warmth of morning.  The sun… the Phoenix.  Perhaps it was haunting her still for her crime… but even if it was, she deserved every moment of agony inflicted upon this mobile corpse.  She had been so desperate that she had reached out to her own mother's murderer and became his puppet.

But no more!  She would not bend to his whim anymore… not for his purposes.  She'd follow his twisted quest for resurrection and travel to the core of the Planet if that was what it took.  Closing burning eyes, she felt her hand sneak up to clasp her mother's pendant, feeling its power course through her, warming her entire body.  At that moment, she swore on her own soul an oath of vengeance to repay every moment of pain that Sephiroth had caused to those that she loved.

As the night wore away and morning encompassed the land, Sephirah rose silently from her seat, and with a swipe of her hand, seized the Masamune and fastened it to her belt.

"What the #$*%?!" Barret howled as he noticed the trail of fresh blood that streaked the hallway, the overpowering scent wrapping around his throat, choking him with its nauseating pungency.  A slight scratching sound from the room to his right caught his attention, and with a patience he had only honed in his growing age, he crept towards the opened doorway, put his ear to it, and listened…

There was a low growl accompanied by panting, rasping breaths, the sound of claws grating against the cobbled floor forcing Barret to wince.  Instinctively, his left hand flew to his gun-arm, before forgetting that he had replaced it long before with a synthetic hand.  In the world they had fought for, so full of a lulling peace, he had no longer wanted Marlene to be afraid… So in order to touch his daughter, he had removed the gun and laid it aside permanently, instead cooperating with the engineers at the Junon base to have a life-like hand grafted for his purposes.  As much as he hated the Shinra, even after the sinister company had been disbanded, they were the only ones who could aid in such a difficult crafting.  So the gun was gone forever… but he was still a strong, stocky man, covered in burly knots of sinew, possessing almost miraculous strength.  After hearing nothing but the ragged breathing of the creature for several moments, Barret peered around the corner cautiously.  There lay a pitiful sight; scraps of burst cloth littered the room in patterns of black and crimson, and blood lay in random scattered puddles along the bricking, intensifying the already burning reek.  But a sight greeted Barret that he hadn't seen in over a decade, and he was taken aback.

Chaos!

It was different this time though—before, whenever Vincent had morphed into this intimidating, extremely deadly beast, there was an inhuman feel to his soul, as if a rage had filled him deep from within and taken control, throwing him into a berserk state.  But now there was a humanity to this twisted creature, a strange sensation that threw Barret off guard, as if its very soul were crying, screaming it sorrows, begging for release…

"Vincent…" he muttered in astonishment, without even realizing he had spoken.  The eerie blood red eyes of the monster riveted to his own, burning with none of the previous rage, but a deep, searing pain… an agony endured for the greater part of a century.  Blood speckled its hide, splattering darkly over the deep gashes in its skin.  Tufts of fur that matched the beast's coat could be seen caught on the razor sharp claws, and Barret knew immediately that the blood strewn across the hallway had all belonged to this beast.  A low hiss emitted from the savage throat, followed by an inhuman howl that sent chills down even Barret's spine, inducing a terror he had never before even imagined could exist.

Before he could even react, Chaos had pounced, its body as lithe and strong as that of any wildcat, its bitter hatred of itself consuming whatever sense remained.  Barret was bowled to the ground before he even had time to shout for help, and within seconds, found himself wrestling for his life.  Chaos was extremely powerful; its knife-like claws pierced into the flesh of Barret's upper arm, the snapping, gnarled teeth coming inches from his throat.  With an uttered curse, Barret used a burst of strength to throw the beast from him, watching as it struck the wall and recoiled momentarily.  The humanity returned to the scarlet eyes, distorting the face into a pained grimace.  Taking its own bulky head in its paws, Chaos moved as if to smash itself into pieces, its massive bulk ramming violently against the wall again and again until the creature collapsed to the ground in a stupor.  Finally the battered heap of flesh lay unmoving on the floor, its blood pouring into a sizable puddle.

All this time, Barret had been too stunned to move, his jaw agape at the unexpected scene.  Still confused, he inched forward in hopes of aiding his friend, but met with a threatening snarl that made him leap back with a start.  Slowly the form of the crazed beast began to shrink and morph back into the shape of a man, the pale, smooth skinned body of his friend Vincent, covered in blackening bruises and vicious cuts.  When Barret rushed forward in alarm, Vincent struggled to prop himself up on his arms.

"Stay BACK!" he snarled in warning, the brazen claw knocking away Barret's hand.  "Don't you see?  I want to die!"  Barret's eyes narrowed slightly at hearing this, and he averted his face, clambering to his feet as if to leave.

"Foo'!  I thought you better than that!  But if you gonna be a $%^#&*@ jackass, then maybe I should leave.  Let you be a damn coward!" Barret snapped, the thick blow brows converging together in his anger.  "You always pity yourself, 'cuz you 'the man who lost his girl to a mad scientist'!  Never stopped to think that other people hurt too!"  Vincent's eyes widened at this, and for a moment, a rush of shame flooded deep into his heart.

"There's always pain… but there's also always a reason to go on.  Never give up… Ain't gettin' off this train we're on, after all!"  Barret added with a sigh, the ghosts of Corel dancing through his mind.  Marlene was his last reminder of the happy days before the fire that claimed everything… that's why he had fought so hard to give her the happiness she deserved.  "There's always someone to live for… whether they here to share it with you or not, you've been left alive on this planet.  Make the most of it!  You say you suffer?  Then make it so that others don't have to know that same pain!  I fought so Marlene wouldn't have to live under the whips of those Shinra rats!  For her I lived—even after losing Dyne and Myrna."

"Daddy… Is that true?" came a hushed voice from around the doorway, and Barret whirled in surprise.  Vincent, being unable to support his weight through all this time, had collapsed back to the ground, his mind reflecting on Barret's words.  It'd been so long since he had even tried to sympathize with another human being that he'd almost forgotten what the warmth of another soul felt like.  Vincent's heart had hardened long before, and with his guilt, he had managed to seal himself off as a freak in his own mind.  It was his determination to hate himself that had created the monster he had become…

"Marlene…" Barret's gruff voice murmured in answer, his eyes averting from the slender form.  Marlene's hand lifted to meet the pendant at her breast, his fist closing around it.

"I-I know about Dyne… and about mother, and about Corel…" she began slowly, the gentle brown eyes blurring with tears, "But… you and Aunty Tifa have given me so much… The stars… you can see them so clearly from here in the canyon… and… I've prayed every night that someday I'll make you proud, Daddy… After all, that's the least I can do for you…" Barret interrupted her with a shake of his brawny head.

"Marle… you grown up so beautiful… you everything a father could want.  Don't worry 'bout nothin' else other than making you'self happy… That's what Dyne gave his life for," Barret smiled, his voice gruff in an attempt to hide his tears.

"Oh, Daddy…" Marlene sighed, running forward into Barret's battle scarred arms, "I promise I'll do my best!"  Neither father nor daughter could prevent the tears from flowing then, and for once, Barret embraced the past with readily open arms.

"Dyne…" he thought, sending his consciousness into the night sky, "I swore to you long ago I'd keep Marlene safe.  So rest in peace, friend."

Chapter 33- Night Blazes

It was almost as if Sephirah felt the inspiration that flowed from Barret's words that night.

At first, she had planned to leave the Bone Village immediately; she had no wish to stay and be showered with sympathy by the residents.  She knew from growing up without a mother that outside pity only made everything weigh heavier on one's shoulders.  But as she paced in the cool night air, she couldn't help but remember…

She couldn't just leave him here, cold and lonely, without her final goodbye.

And so, squatting by the bier that contained the body of her beloved, Sephirah traced her fingers across the frozen lips of the one she had cherished.  The sadness had settled to a dull ache in her breast, a leaden weight that made every breath seem labored, but at least the pain had subsided.  For how long she did not know, however…

She reached instinctively into the bottom of her pack, groping for a handkerchief with which to clear the blur in her eyes.  Her fingers closed around something soft yet firm, and she drew the object out in curiosity.  It was the dark phoenix's plume, with its long ebony rachis and violet tipped edges that glimmered at her in the moonlight.  This was the curse that was destroying everything she had worked so hard to protect.

Suddenly a shudder passed through her as if a specter had wrapped its frigid arms around her body, chilling the blood in her veins.  The sight of the object incited a burning hatred in the pit of her belly, which seemed to tear through her gut.  It also stirred a guilt from the knowledge that her foolishness led to such destruction.  And then, there was a rush of realization that brought with it a flush to her cheeks, eliminating their ghostly white pallor.

She grinned crazily, twirling the object between forefinger and thumb, remembering its purpose.  With this feather, she could restore life to the stiff, cold corpse of her beloved, tear his soul away from the freezing grasp of death and restore him to life at her side.

But for what?  What would life hold for him now, after death?  Having lost all nope for a normal existence, Sephirah herself lived to complete her quest, to endure suffering in the assurance that she would end the pain of the ones she loved.  By reviving him for such a purposeless and agonizing existence would mean condemning Jordan to a hell on Earth.  Besides, she would then be revealing her horrible, murderous crime…

Gritting her teeth, Sephirah returned the plume to its dark corner within her backpack, the sickness washing away as she did so.  She bit her lip until she tasted a tinge of salty liquid on her tongue, and she licked the blood away quickly.  No matter what, she had to become strong.  She had to stop these tears…

"Sephirah?" a voice called into the hut.  She hadn't even noticed the shadow that lay in the arch of the doorway.

"Yes?" she called back in simple reply, "What is it?"

"I'm just wondering... if you need anything," said Cal as he stepped into view, eyes glimmering with the sympathy she so detested.

"Not really..."

"You haven't had anything to eat or drink since you got here!" he pressed in a firm but gentle tone.

"I'm not hungry."

"But surely some water--" he insisted, and a flare of fury danced in her eyes as she whirled upon him.

"Look, I don't need your charity right now!  If you want to help, bring me slate and a chisel," she snapped, and Calvin scrambled to fulfill her request.  She waited patiently until he returned, and she took these objects in her trembling hands and carved:

"Rest now, my firebird, for from these ashes shall you rise

Return to the Earth and merge with the stream

For someday your soul shall again find its freedom

And you shall be reborn, in your blazing glory."

She placed the slab on her beloved's unmoving breast, bowed silently, and left the hut.  Cal followed, knowing then what she wanted next.

"Would you lend me your fire materia?" she asked, her voice low but somewhat steady.

"Of course…" he fumbled in one of his bangles for a moment, and then dropped the small orb into Sephirah's outstretched hand.  She removed her restore-all combo from her wrist, and placed in the new materia by itself, for safety's reasons.

"Fire 2!" she shouted, and within a few seconds, the straw hut was merrily ablaze.  Several of the villagers stood in the shadow of their doorways, watching the spectacle, knowing not to interrupt.  The wind danced by, swirling some of the ashes into her hair, against her skin.  And finally, it was over.  Only a few flickers of a dying flame remained in the mess of black soot.

Sephirah took a step forward and knelt before the heap, sifting through it fondly with her fingers.  [I]Everything I love always ends up in ashes.[/I]

Irein approached from behind, placed a hand on her shoulder, and handed her a tiny object.  It was nothing fancy; it was a vase of reinforced pottery of a deep green blue that reminded her of the ocean, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand.  Sephirah whispered her thanks and scooped up some ash into it, placed a cork in the bottleneck, wrapped it heavily in cloth, and stowed it in her backpack.  At least they could finish the journey together now…

"I will be leaving your village now.  Thank you all for your hospitality and for your understanding… but I have a score to settle up north.  It's a journey I should make alone…" she turned to everybody with a faint smile, the best she could muster at the moment without bursting into tears.  "Thank you again… and goodbye.  May the Planet watch over every one of you."

With a wave, she turned and began to run down the slopes to the north.  Cal turned and shot a glance towards Irein, who simply nodded in his direction.  Without another word, Cal moved to the entrance of his dwelling, took up his belongings, and followed after her.

---

"Just a few more days and the moon will be in position to locate your daughter."

Those words, spoken by an exasperated Nanaki, constantly played around Cloud's mind like the squeal of some broken record.  He slept fitfully, passing into dreamland at random times, and waking with equal suddenness.  Sometimes when he'd wake, if Tifa would be nearby, he'd sit and chat with her merrily, talking about events that happened over 17 years before, calling her "Aerith" the entire time.  At first she just wrote it off as insensitivity, but after a while, she began to wonder with everyone else if Cloud Strife was finally losing his mind.  After all, talking to one's long deceased wife isn't a very normal occurrence after 17 years.

"Aerith… isn't she so beautiful?  She's our daughter, our Sephirah, our bloodlines merged.  No one can take that from us," he said one time as he clutched a photograph of Sephirah in his delirious hands.  "She's mine, not his!"

Tifa found that particular comment a bit confusing.  She didn't want to think anything of it at first, but after a while, it began to nag and tug at her mind until she sat down with Cloud again one day.  When he began to mumble the same phrase again to her, she then decided to pretend she really was his wife in order to see what she could make of it all.

"Cloud honey… I know she's our daughter.  Why would she not be?" she began tentatively.

"Why not, you ask?  Because of Sephiroth, that sorry bastard…" he trailed off momentarily, his eyes closed in a sleepy trance.

"What does Sephiroth have to do with this?  Hasn't he been dead for 17 years?"

"I can never get rid of him… never!  He haunts you as he once haunted me… he even hounds our daughter!  And I swear that if he ever touches you again--" Cloud broke off here, taking his golden head in his hands and pulling at the long spikes in distress.  He gnashed his teeth and groaned in suppressed anger until Tifa came to alarm and soothed him back into silence.  It was then that the sobs came, the horrible, wracking sounds that burst from his chest, shaking his body, pouring tears down his face…

Tifa then realized that this wasn't any ordinary ghost of the past that was causing such agony to Cloud's tortured mind.  She reassured him quietly and left him lying sprawled in his bed, caught deep in the tantalizing stupor of dreams.  It didn't take her more than a second for her to decide where to head next.  She went straight into the dining hall of the Cosmo Towers, found Nanaki, and called a meeting of the old comrades.

Other than Nanaki and his wife, Barret and Marlene were the first to arrive.  They were arguing playfully, Marlene poking the little roll of "pudge" that was hanging over her father's waist.  Barret was sulking in his usual way, except a tinge of smile couldn't be hidden from where it lurked at the corner of his mouth.  He plunked down onto one of the chairs, arms folded across his chest in his surly way, Marlene pulling a chair to his side and leaning up against the solid forearm.  Soon, a bedraggled Cid and Shera joined them, the latter blushing as she smoothed her rumpled hair.  Cid explained that they had a late morning, even though it was mid-afternoon by this point, and everyone else smiled secretly.

Vincent was the last one to enter the scene, his long crimson cape trailing behind him as if he'd been in a hurry to reach his destination.  The blood colored pupils still had the same penetrating power, even though they held a note of remorse as they wandered off to search the plain of the dead.  He swept in silently and took his seat away from everyone else.  Nanaki, seeing that everyone had finally gathered that was invited to the meeting, stepped forward.

"My good friends," he began, "We have gathered to discuss a serious dilemma, which, as you all probably have figured out, involves our friend Cloud Strife.  Most of you have already heard about his decreasing physical condition-- the sudden bouts of weakness and the black outs that we just can't trace the cause of-- and some of you may know about the mental aspect, in which he's been prone to delirium and saying to people who've passed long ago.  Tifa has requested a conference because there is a matter she feels should be discussed." Nanaki stepped back and nudged Tifa forward with his muzzle.  The others hadn't paid much attention to her when they came in because she had been leaning against a corner of the room, out of plain sight.  But now they could see the lines of sadness that creased her beautiful brow, the tears that shimmered in her gentle auburn eyes… A wave of concern flooded through everyone present, none the least Barret, who had known about and sympathized with her emotional situation the longest.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," she said, her head bowed just enough to send a cascade of rich chocolate brown hair tumbling past her shoulders.  "I suppose I started noticing it after the first time he collapsed.  I mean, you've all probably noticed that Cloud's been acting a bit… strange lately, and while I've been on bedside watch, I've heard some unusual things.  Most of all, it's the way he talks to me.  I think he thinks that I'm Aerith, or something.  I don't know, but he's been talking as if he's living in a time past.  A lot of it is incoherent, but I can hear him talking about Sephirah as if she was still a baby, showing her to Aerith… it's as if her ghost still haunts him, even now."

Marlene raised her hand timidly.  "What if it's just illusions from his delirium?  He has been gravely ill, Auntie."

"I'm not sure, but somehow I don't think so," Tifa replied slowly.  "Something tells me that this isn't just delirium.  It's almost as if I can feel her there too… it's almost as if her scent was just at the tip of my nose, faint, but indicating her presence.  I still remember her perfume; it's light, smelling of spring blossoms.  Cloud used to keep a bottle on his dresser at home, and I know I saw it there when we left."

"So what should we do?" Cid finally spoke up, training his eye upon the seemingly ageless beauty.

"I don't know!  I-I mean… I'm not sure what to do.  What if he just doesn't wake up?  What if he lives in her dream world forever, and never returns to the living?" she blurted this out, barely maintaining her composure.

Vincent glance flickered up from the table for just a moment.  "Tifa… I've learned that when a man is consumed by his dreams, it is because he is overrun by his own desire to be in such a state.  For example, when a person loses consciousness, it is often because their brain can't tolerate the pain, and therefore seeks relief in illusion.  I lived in such a way for many decades… I believe that Cloud will have to bring himself back to the world.  There isn't much we can do but provide our friendship as support."  The others nodded in solemn agreement, but Tifa bit her lip distractedly.

"Isn't there something I can do?"

"If you'd like, perhaps you can stay by his side and learn more about the progress of his condition by talking to him." Vincent shrugged.

Tifa sighed and nodded in resignation, her hand sneaking absently up to tuck a lock of her beautiful hair behind one ear.  "If that's all I can do… then I'll do it."  She then turned and beat a hasty retreat before her helplessness overwhelmed her in a barrage of tears, which exploded as soon as she reached her room.

Chapter 33- Blood Moon

The night seemed to loom over the silence of the Ancient Forest, its lithe black body stretched across the sky, obscuring even the light of the distant stars.  Only the moon shimmered through the dark haze, beaming a vivid crimson, streaking the tips of high clouds hanging in the evening air.  Sephirah noted it with the regard of an aged and wizened traveler.  The week of a blood moon, as the Ancients called it, was often a time when people would be confronted with strange visions and tests from the Planet.  She sighed wearily-- this last year had contained far more tests than she could imagine possible, ones so difficult and painful that she felt ready for anything else that Planet would throw her way.  It had been nearly a week since she had left the encampment, and it was her second day wandering aimlessly through the forest.  She could still remember the kind faces of those who had helped along her long quest… Mentally, she thanked every one of them for their sacrifices.  She was just about to lose herself within the intangible realm of her memory when a soft noise from behind her caught her attention.  Her hand flew to the hilt of the Masamune, whose edge was newly sharpened because she had been practicing her swordsmanship, knowing that the blade would soon be stained with either the blood of either her mother's murderer, or her own.

"Who goes there?" She called her challenge confidently, knowing that she could best almost any opponent who had the poor judgment to combat her.

"Hey, you can put the sword down!  It's me, Calvin, from the Bone Village!"  The familiar balding head poked from the undergrowth, his smile disarming in his tanned face.  Sephirah sheathed her weapon and sprinted over in incredulity.

"…Have you been following me?" she asked warily, her hand still resting upon the leather bindings.  She received a nod in response.  "What's your business here?  I asked that no one follow me."

"I couldn't let a young girl, just recovered from a shipwreck after having lost someone dear to her, just tramp off into the woods alone.  What kind of man would I be?" he chuckled softly, and then gestured to a rather large sword slung across his back.  "Anyway, I've been following your tracks for the past week now!  I kept getting lost in this forest-- after you passed through a section, the path seemed to close and forbid entry. I though you would need protection, but I guess I was wrong."  Sephirah stared at his blade with her jaw agape.  It was the same size, shape and make as the one she had always seen gracing the mantle piece at home…

"…Just who ARE you anyway?"

---

"It is time," the beautiful phantom whispered quietly in Cloud's ear.  Her arms encompassed his body from behind, locking over his chest as she laid her dark head on his shoulder.  He could smell her flowery scent surrounding him...  "My love, our daughter will soon need us."  He nodded quietly, knowing the sacrifice he would have to make to prepare them for the ordeal ahead.  Somehow though, his heart was light, his spirit unworried by the dangerous task at hand.

[i]Even if I die[/i], he thought, [i]at least it will be for the two people I love most.[/i]

With this sentiment in mind, Cloud Strife wore a rueful smile as he cupped the chin of his wife in his hands. "Then you may begin the ritual."

---

Tifa was on bedside duty again, as she was throughout most of the day.  Occasionally she'd accept one of her friends' propositions to watch Cloud for her while she took a step outside, but she didn't usually take very lengthy breaks for paranoia of missing his awakening.  However, she had noticed a change within Cloud's body today-- he was very quiet, very calm.  Mostly, she had observed that his lips were still, except for the occasional incomprehensible murmur that escaped their gentle parting.  At first it had worried her, and she was only kept satisfied during the eerie silence by the gentle hiss of his breath, indicating the life still within his body.  Secretly she hoped that this meant that he was on his way to recovery, but a sinking feeling buried within her heart knew that something strange was going on-- she wasn't sure if it was good or bad.  However, the day had been rather uneventful, so she buried herself within a novel that Shera had lent her.  She was only half interested in it-- sappy romance novels were never her type.  However, there wasn't much else to do while waiting.

The slight rustle of Cloud's bedcovers caused Tifa's eyes to dart up from the well-worn pages, discarding the book on the desk beside her chair.  Her eyes lit as her feet carried her instinctively to the bedside, and she studied the slight smile on his face with a tender warmth.  After a few moments, she shook her head and returned to her chair with a weary sigh.  She had just regained her vague interest in the novel when a loud slam ruptured into her thoughts.  Dropping everything, she watched in shock and slight horror as Cloud's body bolted into an upright position, as if a puppet controlled by an unnatural force.  She saw that his expressionless eyes burned with a brilliant green flame as he swung his legs down to the bedside with a single mechanical motion.

She was frozen to the spot.  It was as if some vast, incomprehensibly powerful force was present, drawing everything in the room to a halt save time itself.  She couldn't even move her jaw enough to utter a scream, so she was forced to watch through unblinking eyes the strange proceedings.

A specter seemed to leap from his body, a being she simply could recognize as Cloud.  However, in the spiritual essence she saw a child, an old man, a son, a father, a lover, a warrior… It was everything that he was and would be merged into one form, existing beyond time, beyond reason…  She knew that she was once again peering deep into Cloud's core, the center of his life force, his very being…  However, it was different than her memory of the events twenty years before, when she saw the confused, ostracized, and lonely child that was drawn so forcefully from his body to serve Sephiroth's purposes.

Now she could see that the light is his eyes had changed-- the fierce green still shimmered within, but now she could see the joy that fueled the flame, not unlike the simple satisfaction that one could occasionally catch on his face after he retired his life as an adventurer.   The specter burned brighter and brighter until it was searing her eyes, a sound not unlike the booming beat of a bass drum pulsing its rhythm throughout her body.  She could feel her heartbeat submitting to its power, contracting along with the pounding sequences, flowing through her feet and her throbbing ears.  The volume seemed to grow exponentially, causing a crushing, agonizing pain, in her head, feeling as if the noise would shatter her brain and body.

The shimmering ghost seemed to be surrounded by a familiar green glow now, returning a measure of comfort to her senses.  Lifestream… Tifa heard the whispers that faded gently away, just barely grazing the edge of her eardrum enough for her to discern a few words…

"My life… your life… are united.   …Souls and strength… merged…  We are bound as one!"

The final phrase seemed to ring throughout the very Planet itself, rippling like a shockwave through Tifa's body as she watched the emerald mists churn upon themselves, converging into the form of a woman, forming flesh and bone and blood over the outline of the second essence.  She could see that Cloud's spirit seemed drained-- it was much paler than before, and almost transparent.

What seemed like a sudden shove lurched Tifa forward, and she knew with a sigh of relief that she was released from the powerful hold.  She collapsed to the floor gasping for breath, her heart racing weakly as she clutched at herself to make sure she was still held in one piece.  Her eyes wandered up in pained concern to see a pale body sprawled over Cloud's on the floor, the wavy brown hair spilling over the floor like the contents of an upturned jug.  She tried to scream for help, but still no sound would emerge from her paralyzed throat as she dragged herself towards the naked bundle of flesh, knowing with a sinking feeling of dread what she would find as she mustered all of her strength to pull the figure onto its back.

Aerith, her beauty still radiant even in unconsciousness, laid upon the cold stones, her body fresh, young and beautiful, the way it was the day she had died.  Tifa stared at her dumbfounded, then recovering with a hot blush at the fact that she was staring, she retrieved a blanket and covered the woman's nakedness just as the others rushed into the room.

"What the ^$&* happened in here?!" Cid cussed, Shera hanging onto his arm for support.  The expression froze upon his features, and he stopped in the middle of the doorway as they saw Tifa hunched over that familiar and long missed face…

"I'm not quite sure myself… but could someone give me a hand over here?  I can hardly move!"

---

Sephirah eyed Zack with a measure of incredulity and disbelief.  This man…

"I suppose I owe you a story and an explanation… So I might as well combine them into one," he began, a look of seriousness crossing his aging features.

"Long before you were born, missie, a company called Shinra was ruled by a power-hungry bastard whose ultimate goal was to control the world and to use it for his own profit.  It was the same man who pumping billions of gil into the Mako reactors and research that nearly killed this planet.  You probably know all about that from your history classes, though, so I doubt I need to say much more about the monster himself.  You probably heard of SOLDIER, the elite military force created by the Shinra in their attempts to clone the Ancients, those who were granted the Planet as their inheritance.  They were after the Promised Land, you see… but that's not the point.

"I am ashamed to admit this, but I was once a SOLDIER.  Hell, I was young and knew nothing but the money that they offered me to undergo research and training.  It seemed like too good of a deal to be true-- they pay you for boarding and the training lessons they gave you in exchange for a sliver of your health.  So I left my home and worked hard in the ranks, and eventually was promoted to the rank of SOLDIER First Class.

"It was on one of my first missions as a high ranking fighter that I was sent to Nibelheim.  I went there with Sephiroth himself!  Beside me were two guards-- I knew one of them personally, though I can't recall his name anymore… he had been an old friend of mine, a fellow applicant for the program that didn't make it into the ranks.  Too ashamed to go home, he stayed on as a guard.

"What happened then is still kinda fuzzy.  I just remember a monster and fire… and I woke up floating in a glass pod filled with pure liquid Mako.  I can still remember the grayness of the laboratory, and the sight of my guard friend floating beside me… that one image never left me, even after I lost my memory.  I feigned unconsciousness until the scientist-- Hojo, I think his name was-- arrived, and then I shattered the glass with my bare fists, knocked him out, grabbed my friend and ran for it.

"It was almost 25 years ago that I emerged from the Mako capsule with only faint smudges of memory as my only clues to the past.  As time carried on, I recalled more and more by the day, although my companion… was in far from optimum condition.  Mako-sickness, they called it… Anyway, I was headed for Midgar… I had remembered that I had been a SOLDIER in the past, so I decided I'd become a mercenary.  Besides, my love was waiting for me in the slums…

"Before we stepped into the city, I was attacked while I was dragging my friend.  The soldiers pumped me full of bullets… I could've sworn I died that day, with the rain pattering down onto my face… But the next thing I knew, I was back in a laboratory, subject to more twisted experiments of Hojo's.  I still loathe the name, still feel the stabbing pains that surge through my body when I recall the treatments he put me through.  It's a reaction to some kind of cell, from what I know.  You saw earlier… I've managed to quell the major effects of the treatment, but the pain never receded permanently.  Sometimes it became unbearable, and I would transform… I never retained consciousness during that phase though.  But then… Hojo just… let me go.  He planted me on a ship sailing from Junon… and Irein found me in Bone Village.  From there… things are rather ordinary.

"I always wondered what happened to my old girlfriend… if she waited for me or not.  I think she'd have married at least by now, and is living her life off happily with some dashing hero…" Cal smiled softly, a tinge of sorrow lacing his tone.  "I still dream of her… she was so beautiful.  Brilliant green eyes… a soft smile… You remind me of her, you know.  You're just as beautiful…"

Sephirah smiled softly, trusting instantly that this man's story was the truth.  It still left a feeling of restlessness in her, however, but she attempted to shrug it off lightly.  "What was her name?  You never know when people might know each other, even when they live across the planet."

He paused reflectively for a moment.  "…I do believe… I-I'm not really sure, but I think her name was Ariel or Aerith… something like that.  Not like it matters though, since there's no way you could possibly--"

"What?!"

"You know her then?" he pressed with excitement as he leaned towards her, "How is she?"  Sephirah could only stare back in disbelief, her jaw agape.

"What's wrong?  …Sephirah?"