Daughter of the Earth

Chapter 1

"Everything is so complex

Every day is like a test

Over obstacles that seem almost impossible…"

**

Ifalna gazed out the snow-enveloped world and sighed, a long and wispy sound that tore through the silence of her home like the calling of a phantom. In truth, that was what the Cetra woman felt like - a lost memory forgotten amongst the diamond snows and icy blue skies of the North.

It had been three months since Ifalna had fled the devastation of her birthplace. A savage force, mysterious to her except for the name Shinra, had ruthlessly attacked her and her people and as her life fell to the ground all around her, she'd fled.

With tears glistening on her porcelain face, she had plunged deep into a the forests to the west, and for countless hours she'd simply ran, her mind in turmoil and her heart screaming into the darkness of the life that had been stolen from her. Finally, when she couldn't run anymore, she stopped in a sun-golden forest glade and wept.

And, as if rescuing her from the crushing onslaught of her sorrow, someone had come for her.

He was Yshera, a man who'd lived with her in the City of the Ancients, though Ifalna had never actually known him. And despite their lack of background, he had came to her as if he'd known her his whole life and pulled her up from her depression, trying to convince her that they needed to flee to somewhere safe. If they didn't get away and the Shinra found them…

Time was ageless as they escaped to the west, battling through the wood, mountain and snow. Despite the overwhelming odds, Yshera refused to let Ifalna fall, and his strength gave her strength.

And then all hope was forsaken when a Shinra whom Ifalna had nicknamed The Hunter discovered them. He attacked them by night and there was no chance of escape yielded.

On that day, Ifalna had, for the first time, thought that her life was truly forfeit and that prospect of peace ever again was gone. And then there was the shot, and the blood…

But Hunter had not killed her as he had threatened. There had been another man, a man who had been watching in the shadows, waiting for a moment of weakness to attack…

And thankfully, he was on her side.

Ifalna closed her eyes a moment, deep in thought. That man…he lived here. He constantly watched over her, always concerned with her health.

He said his name was Hijrai, but she knew that it was a falsehood. The planet told her so.

But she trusted the mysterious man, as the planet had said she should, and he in return was determined to give her a chance at surviving all the terror of the last few months.

Ifalna turned around and paced a few steps, keeping her eyes on the floor though she could not stifle the nervous expression on her face. During their escape to what Hijrai called the Icicle Inn, Yshera had become ill, and his condition was worsening every day. Fear pierced through her heart and soul at the thought that he may leave her alone in this cruel world. She was used to her easy life in the City of the Ancients with the other Cetra; how could she survive without the help of the last survivor of her people? She would fade away without his guidance, his strength, and his seeming imperviousness to the tendrils of crimson misery that seemed to claw her to pieces; pulling, tearing, and piercing through the last of her optimism.

Hijrai was very anxious about the illness. When he had first found them and brought them to the Icicle Inn, he had visited them every day to make sure that everything was fine. Over time, however, his visits had become less frequent, and Ifalna assumed that this meant that she was doing all right, but as soon as Yshera became ill, he returned to daily appointments. This only added to the tension building in her.

After listening a moment to see if she could hear Yshera's gentle snoring, Ifalna decided to check on him. She walked slowly across the wood floor of their shared home, and down the stairs to the two cots unfolded on the floor. She didn't like the wood home, it felt too – foreign. Back home everything had been made of smooth, glistening stone and crystal, and it had been soft and comfortable underfoot. But the wood was hard and painful to walk across, and it never failed to startle her when it creaked underneath her; it felt like it would break apart. She knew that the people from this small village all wore strange leather on their feet to protect them from the wood, as well as the biting cold of the outdoors, but as she had spent her whole life in the City of the Ancients, the prospect was too strange for her.

Yshera looked up at her as she approached, and his bloodshot blue eyes shimmered with affection. Despite his pallid appearance, Ifalna's heart still raced at the sight of his stunning blue eyes and handsome looks. Over the last three months, the two of them had relied fully on each other, and it had not taken long for them to fall headfirst into love's embrace. She not only wanted him to survive because she needed his protection, but because she had developed a deep, tender fondness for him. And to her it felt like love may be the only thing to sustain her after all the recent tragedy; if she lost that last chance to be happy again, she would have nothing.

"Hi." He said simply, and a small smile spread over his face. He was sweating, even though his lips were blue with the cold, and his eyes were becoming so light in shade that they were almost white as he slowly lost the firmness of sight.

"Hi Shéa." She sat down on her knees beside him, tucking her skirt under her, and looked sadly into his face. Yes, his sight was fading, just like the rest of him… "How are you feeling today?"

"Not great." Yshera shrugged. "I don't know how much longer I can hang on."

"Don't say that…" Ifalna ordered gently. She brought a tiny, porcelain hand up and held his own. He grunted faintly, though it sounded like more of a sigh, and lovingly stroked her small hand with his thumb. "Hijrai's going to get a doctor that can help."

"We already tried a doctor. There's nothing anyone can do." The ill man protested.

"Shéa…" Ifalna bent and brushed her lips over his bony hand; her eyes deep and glowing like jadeite. "We got this far, everything will be fine."

"I…" His words were cut off by a loud knocking on the door upstairs that startled them both.

Ifalna stood up, "I'll be right back."

She rushed up the stairs to the door, careful not to trip on her skirt, and opened the heavy wood door.

"Hijrai, come in!" She smiled.

Her friend nodded and followed her in, steam coming from his near frozen lips. He pulled off his heavy jacket, flopping it over a coat rack by the door, and then turned to Ifalna.

"How is he?"

The concern in the stoic man's dark eyes gave his face a strange cast. He had a very professional air to him – his long ebony hair well kept, his clothing wrinkless and clean, and his face dark, mysterious and normally emotionless. However, Ifalna had found she could tell his thoughts by his eyes, which always seemed to project his emotions despite his best efforts to hide them.

"He is feeling worse." Ifalna said, and through the black optics of her friend, she could tell that he felt her pain.

"I'm sorry." He said. He waited as she turned and began to walk again down the staircase, and then followed.

She was used to his presence, but having him follow her never failed to raise the hair on her neck and quicken her heartbeat. His gait was slow and measured, though somewhat jumpy, and always poised for whatever lay ahead. His footsteps never made a sound. It gave Ifalna the impression that she was being stalked.

And suddenly in her mind she heard a mystical Voice speaking softly to her, it's words tender and quiet yet still full power and most of all, pain. The words, as always, seemed to echo and bounce about in her brain, filling her whole existence with a feeling of being somehow – higher.

My child is dying.

At first it was as if the Voice was repeating something that was told to it, as if the four words were so unbelievable and horrific that they needed to be said several times to be digested. Over and over the four words were recited inside Ifalna's brain, slowly gaining in panic and agony.

My child is dying! My child is dying!

Ifalna gritted her teeth; the pain of the Voice was as much her pain as its.

MY CHILD IS DYING!

The sudden explosion of emotion in the last recitation sent Ifalna reeling, though neither Hijrai nor Yshera noticed it. Her mind felt like it was on fire, and she felt tears of anguish falling down her cheeks.

And suddenly, the Voice of the Planet was no longer speaking, and the sudden silence in her mind was broken as the Planet's long, tortured screams began to tear through her brain. They were low, nightmare-inducing screams that were not high-pitched or loud but instead seemed to be augmented with the very essence of sorrow. Ifalna bit down harder on her teeth and clenched her fists until they ached, trying to hold in her own personal screams. It was not the noise of the Planet's screams that hurt her so much. No, it was that she was feeling what the Planet itself was; agony, despair, disbelief and an overwhelming feeling of negativity.

And then the cries of the Planet stopped, and there was a very long silence. Ifalna could vaguely hear Yshera and Hijrai speaking, but it seemed far away somehow.

And then the Voice returned.

I'm sorry, Daughter. I have hurt you.

"I feel what you feel." Ifalna replied out loud, though her voice was so hushed and deep that neither of her companions heard it.

Yes, it is so, though I wish it were not. You have to keep up hope, Ifalna. So much more than you know depends on you keeping up hope. If you don't, everything will perish, I along with it.

"I promise." Ifalna said solemnly.

Many years ago, one who only desired power killed thousands of my children, the Cetra. And now the greed of the people called the 'Shinra' is possessing them to repeat these appalling events. Once again I have felt my children departing their lives and joining the lifestream. And my son, Yshera, is slowly joining them.

But you, you must survive, Ifalna. I do not know where your fate will lead you, but I know that, should you choose to accept it, we will all be saved. However, the choice is yours.

"I'll do anything I can!"

Do not make decisions now. Take your time, think long and hard.

Ifalna froze as a hand gripped tightly on her shoulder, and she whirled about to see Hijrai watching her carefully.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I…" Ifalna trailed off as the Voice became suddenly deep, not ominous or hateful in anyway, but very deep.

Him. He is not evil, but something about him is not right…be wary of the man with the eyes of obsidian.

"I will." She said, forgetting about Hijrai in the presence of the Planet.

Be strong, Ifalna. Be strong, think hard, and never, ever, lose spirit…

And then the Voice was gone.

**

A/N: There, I like this chappy WAY more than the last. Maybe I'll redo the prologue some other time.

Stay tuned for chapter two and thanks for reading!