Sun and Shadow
Chapter 5: Spirit
By Sephiroth 4000

She shivered high on the altar. All around her, the shadows of people flickered and went, the remnants of travelers in this odd half world; a realm that was neither life nor death. A realm where the Summons dwelt in the flesh, although their corporal bodies seemed to mean nothing to them, and they changed as they pleased.

A warm heavy black weight dropped over her shoulders.

She reached up to gather the supple leather around her slim form, inhaling the metallic tang from heavy armour, as well as the subtler surprisingly pleasant scent that was Sephiroth's own. "Thank you."

He shrugged, a movement she more sensed then saw. For a moment, cold hard pain bloomed through her back to her stomach, but she suppressed it quickly. She turned to regard, the perfectly formed expressionless features, a face that was one moment pure and clean, the next slightly scarred, the next covered in blood, crimson trailing down his face, along his cheekbones to fall down the clean line of his jaw. His eyes never changed though; cold deep pools, utterly brilliant aquamarine orbs. Beautiful, but too much. Just like the rest of him.

"It's alright. I never felt the cold." His voice had no inflection at all, but his hand rested lightly on her shoulder. She could feel it's warmth through his coat. She turned her face away from him again to regard the cool still lake, bedazzling her eyes with reflected light.

"Is she coming?"

"Yes. I summoned her this morning." It had been hard; so hard. She was still exhausted by it, as exhausted as she had been the first time she had entered this world, born from her death.

As exhausted as he had been, born from his death.

She had been frightened of him in those first months, after he had recovered. She had hidden away from him. But eventually they had been drawn together; not out of any conscious choice, but merely by the fact. . .

That they were lonely.

In this entire twilight world, they were the only two beings that were truly alive. Or truly dead if one chose to look at it like that. The only ones who still remembered what life had been like in the 'real world'.

The only ones still able to resist the pull of their materia. Of course it helped that no one had found, much less used them yet. . .

"It will be good when she comes. Soon, we will both be able to go on."

"Optimism? From you, Sephiroth?" She turned to face him once more, a smile curving her mouth, expressive eyes sparkling like jewels with her mirth.

He shrugged again, unperturbed, but the slightest smile tugging at his finely shaped lips, eyes narrowing slightly. She had grown adept at reading the tiny signs of his changes of expression.

And suddenly, at the signs of amusement on his face, she once again felt the hard burn of pain in her middle, the cold clench of fear. Her hands fisted under the cover of his coat, and she quickly looked away again. Her fear overwhelmed her sometimes. He had never been anything less then perfectly polite to her; his manners were exquisite. However, she couldn't forget the eerily similiar pleased look he had worn the day he had slain her. Her last memories of life were of that small smile, and of Cloud's agonized face.

Together, lit by the sparkling waters of the Ancient City's lake, they waited.