(The penultimate chappie everyone! I hope you like it!
Naomi: I hope they like it too, for your sake, Di.
Ansem: And if they don't, I'll laugh at you.
Do you ever go away? Why can't you go bother some other author, old man?
Ansem: Who are you calling old?!
*Blows rasberry at Ansem*)
~Light's Battle~
A pair of eyes opened to frighteningly familiar surroundings. Cloud blinked sharply a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. The scenery did not change. But...this couldn't be! And yet somehow, it was.
For here he was on his bed, in his house, in...Nibelheim.
'This has got to be some kind of trick! Right?'
There was no response from the Demon as he had expected. He sat up, frowning.
'Demon?'
Again, nothing.
Cloud began to wonder whether It was just trying to annoy him, only to have his thoughts interrupted by a startled gasp.
"Cloud?"
He turned around.
"A-Aerith?"
"Who?"
Cloud blinked, and who had once held the appearance of Aerith was now...
"Mother...?!"
Brenna Strife looked nearly the same as the day she had died, but now with more grey in her hair, and a few extra wrinkles. Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears as she gazed at him.
"Oh my son...I thought you'd never wake up!"
She moved to embrace him, but Cloud stepped back.
"No," he hissed, his own eyes narrowing, "this isn't real! It can't be! I watched this Planet fall to the Heartless five thousand years ago! And you! You were dead even before that, when Sephiroth burned this town!"
Brenna looked worried.
"I don't know what your talking about. What are Heartless? And General Sephiroth has never been to Nibelheim, let alone burned it down! You must have been dreaming and--"
"SHUT UP!!"
He wrapped an ungloved hand about her throat, his glare piercing.
"Who are you?! Where is Aerith?!"
"Please...stop..." the woman's eyes shone with fear. "Cloud...what's gotten into you...?"
'She can't be real! Can she?'
(But what if she is?)
He released his grip and stepped back, confusion apparent in his expression. Could he really believe this? After everything that had happened, could he really bring himself to believe that this was real? That everything else had been just some dream?
A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he looked down at his...mother. He wanted her to be real, for all else to have been a dream. And yet he didn't. What about Aerith? His other friends in Avalanche for whom he was fighting the Heartless? He didn't want them to have been a dream. Brenna tilted her head to the side, concerned.
"Are you alright?"
The young man stared off into space, sighing heavily.
"I don't know anymore..."
Aerith felt something tugging violently at the back of her soul, demanding to be noticed. She tried to ignore it; the Heartless Fates were preparing to attack. But it was not possible, and she found herself searching for the source of her discomfort.
'What is that...?'
*It is the power of Light that still sleeps within you. Give it form, and perhaps you will be able to defeat those Heartless.*
'And how am I supposed to do that?'
*...I know nothing of the ways of Light. Figure it out yourself.*
'Oh, you're helpful!'
The Light Hunter breathed in sharply, backing away from the three enemies before her as they continued to advance. She thought quickly, trying to come up with some way to "give form" to the power she felt, as the Demon had suggested.
'Please...,' she thought franticly, 'help me. Take form...please!'
She found herself backed against a spirit wall, preventing her from retreating any further.
"We will enjoy watching you die," Apocalypse said, smirking. "Won't we, sisters?"
"Oh yes." Torment and Death matched her smirk.
'I've no hope left...I'm going to die...!'
(Do not give up, Light Hunter. I will release your power for you.)
A flash came and went, and Aerith wondered just what had happened. She opened her eyes (she had closed them at the flash) to find a staff protruding from the ground in front of her. She blinked. Was this what the Demon meant by giving form to the power?
Not hesitating another moment, she reached forward and pulled the staff from the earth...only to discover that it was not a staff at all. A curved blade decorated the end, reminding her somewhat of the spear used by Cid Highwind. She vaguely recalled seeing such a weapon before; a naganata, it was called.
'Can't be too much different than a staff, can it? I'll just have to be careful of the blade end...'
She held it in both hands, moving into a ready stance. Death snickered at this.
"Look, sisters! She intends to fight us!"
"Quite foolish of you," Torment said, shaking her head. "You have-- "
"--no chance against us," Apocalypse finished.
"Here, my sisters. I will deal with her," Death said, drawing a scythe from the air.
"Very well, if you wish it," Apocalypse said, and she and Torment stood back.
The battle began in the blink of an eye; Death leaping forward, bringing her scythe down to slash at Aerith. The Light Hunter's blade met hers, and both seperated for no more than an instant before their weapons clashed once more. Aerith found herself wondering how long she could keep this up...
The boy looked up at his guardian worriedly.
"Do you have'ta go?" he asked.
The man knelt down before his charge, resting a hand on his head.
"Yes. I must help Cloud. To begin to atone for all that I have done to him."
The little boy, who could have been no more than seven, nodded sadly.
"Okay...but...you'll come back soon, right?"
The man offered a small smile.
"Of course."
(Well, I was originally going to update both chapters at once, but I am still under a bit of writer's block. It might still get up today, though, so if it is already there by the time anyone reads this, ignore this note, okay? At the latest, I'll get the next chapter out tommorrow. Promise! (Unless I get into some kind of unspeakable trouble tommorrow, but hopefully not...) 'Til next time!)
Naomi: I hope they like it too, for your sake, Di.
Ansem: And if they don't, I'll laugh at you.
Do you ever go away? Why can't you go bother some other author, old man?
Ansem: Who are you calling old?!
*Blows rasberry at Ansem*)
~Light's Battle~
A pair of eyes opened to frighteningly familiar surroundings. Cloud blinked sharply a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. The scenery did not change. But...this couldn't be! And yet somehow, it was.
For here he was on his bed, in his house, in...Nibelheim.
'This has got to be some kind of trick! Right?'
There was no response from the Demon as he had expected. He sat up, frowning.
'Demon?'
Again, nothing.
Cloud began to wonder whether It was just trying to annoy him, only to have his thoughts interrupted by a startled gasp.
"Cloud?"
He turned around.
"A-Aerith?"
"Who?"
Cloud blinked, and who had once held the appearance of Aerith was now...
"Mother...?!"
Brenna Strife looked nearly the same as the day she had died, but now with more grey in her hair, and a few extra wrinkles. Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears as she gazed at him.
"Oh my son...I thought you'd never wake up!"
She moved to embrace him, but Cloud stepped back.
"No," he hissed, his own eyes narrowing, "this isn't real! It can't be! I watched this Planet fall to the Heartless five thousand years ago! And you! You were dead even before that, when Sephiroth burned this town!"
Brenna looked worried.
"I don't know what your talking about. What are Heartless? And General Sephiroth has never been to Nibelheim, let alone burned it down! You must have been dreaming and--"
"SHUT UP!!"
He wrapped an ungloved hand about her throat, his glare piercing.
"Who are you?! Where is Aerith?!"
"Please...stop..." the woman's eyes shone with fear. "Cloud...what's gotten into you...?"
'She can't be real! Can she?'
(But what if she is?)
He released his grip and stepped back, confusion apparent in his expression. Could he really believe this? After everything that had happened, could he really bring himself to believe that this was real? That everything else had been just some dream?
A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he looked down at his...mother. He wanted her to be real, for all else to have been a dream. And yet he didn't. What about Aerith? His other friends in Avalanche for whom he was fighting the Heartless? He didn't want them to have been a dream. Brenna tilted her head to the side, concerned.
"Are you alright?"
The young man stared off into space, sighing heavily.
"I don't know anymore..."
Aerith felt something tugging violently at the back of her soul, demanding to be noticed. She tried to ignore it; the Heartless Fates were preparing to attack. But it was not possible, and she found herself searching for the source of her discomfort.
'What is that...?'
*It is the power of Light that still sleeps within you. Give it form, and perhaps you will be able to defeat those Heartless.*
'And how am I supposed to do that?'
*...I know nothing of the ways of Light. Figure it out yourself.*
'Oh, you're helpful!'
The Light Hunter breathed in sharply, backing away from the three enemies before her as they continued to advance. She thought quickly, trying to come up with some way to "give form" to the power she felt, as the Demon had suggested.
'Please...,' she thought franticly, 'help me. Take form...please!'
She found herself backed against a spirit wall, preventing her from retreating any further.
"We will enjoy watching you die," Apocalypse said, smirking. "Won't we, sisters?"
"Oh yes." Torment and Death matched her smirk.
'I've no hope left...I'm going to die...!'
(Do not give up, Light Hunter. I will release your power for you.)
A flash came and went, and Aerith wondered just what had happened. She opened her eyes (she had closed them at the flash) to find a staff protruding from the ground in front of her. She blinked. Was this what the Demon meant by giving form to the power?
Not hesitating another moment, she reached forward and pulled the staff from the earth...only to discover that it was not a staff at all. A curved blade decorated the end, reminding her somewhat of the spear used by Cid Highwind. She vaguely recalled seeing such a weapon before; a naganata, it was called.
'Can't be too much different than a staff, can it? I'll just have to be careful of the blade end...'
She held it in both hands, moving into a ready stance. Death snickered at this.
"Look, sisters! She intends to fight us!"
"Quite foolish of you," Torment said, shaking her head. "You have-- "
"--no chance against us," Apocalypse finished.
"Here, my sisters. I will deal with her," Death said, drawing a scythe from the air.
"Very well, if you wish it," Apocalypse said, and she and Torment stood back.
The battle began in the blink of an eye; Death leaping forward, bringing her scythe down to slash at Aerith. The Light Hunter's blade met hers, and both seperated for no more than an instant before their weapons clashed once more. Aerith found herself wondering how long she could keep this up...
The boy looked up at his guardian worriedly.
"Do you have'ta go?" he asked.
The man knelt down before his charge, resting a hand on his head.
"Yes. I must help Cloud. To begin to atone for all that I have done to him."
The little boy, who could have been no more than seven, nodded sadly.
"Okay...but...you'll come back soon, right?"
The man offered a small smile.
"Of course."
(Well, I was originally going to update both chapters at once, but I am still under a bit of writer's block. It might still get up today, though, so if it is already there by the time anyone reads this, ignore this note, okay? At the latest, I'll get the next chapter out tommorrow. Promise! (Unless I get into some kind of unspeakable trouble tommorrow, but hopefully not...) 'Til next time!)