Chapter Two
That face she wore, burned in my mind, like a carving of stone-never to change. She died, and killed something that I couldn't live without. My life could only be filled with this ubiquitous hatred for life; for the love of my soul, that half of Vincent, died.
"Why?" I cried, the voice of a maimed heart echoed throughout Midgar, to the ends of the Planet. The world lost all limits, all purpose. Death was caught in it's filiopiestic act - that horrid tradition of ending life to someone I held so dear. Not like those children, to which I could pity the maternal women that curled to the sight.
No, it was my love, my desired love, my inamorata, now dead and silent; hair still flinging with solemnity, back and forth. They were like the spider's web, each strand of it, torn by that cold morn' breeze.
The amorous love that could only gratify my own heart, whose own interests indulged within my own, my true lover, now dead. Whispers upon whispers, words upon words, the wind spoke the truth within my ear. Words of comfort, that didn't comfort, to pamper my sorrowful heart, yet not making any difference.
She left me, only to die by loneliness, bitterly.
___
Ù
The mantle of that sky, so clouded and devoid of sunlight had seemingly halted construction and deconstruction. It wasn't bizarre to stop work for a cloudy day, since that was their drive, to see another cloudless sky with that blaze of light, traditionally rising and falling to their work. The morn' symbolized work, which today it was a glorious one, but that soon disappeared with the sudden embargo between two significant partners. The sun would give sunlight, and the planet would returning in trade a harmonious day. Yet, the sun, in its lethargy simply decided, and declined; like a child, seeing the sunrise, only to grumble, and smother himself gently with that propping pillar, assisting slumber, softly.
The men had begun to commute about that sky, disdainfully; some praised the sun, promising compensation for its coincidental laze. I watched from afar, still waiting for that breeze of a cold morn', yet it didn't come. I stayed there, waiting for that wind, yet it never blew that gust of reality my way.
Something else would.
The only comfort that existed now was knowledge, knowing of her existence. I relinquished my last stance of relief, and rose to my feet. The cloak made that sound of falling clothing, but being held in place, like drapes. It was recently given to me by that 'puppet,' that manipulated salvation, the Cloud.
The idolized warrior, the man of many lies, taken into truth. It was he that gave this cloak to me, as a gift. For what? For my company, I presume, for helping them to protect what they loved so much, especially that Tifa. That gorgeous woman, whose fist was forever legendary, but they weren't the same people. None of us were. The world could only think of us as warriors, defenders of this planet. Intermixed with Pain and Joy, such varied emotions that could make a villain, and create a Cloud; to let the heartless live, and to kill a now dead, last child of a people, which are again extinct. That range between death and life, good and evil is worth dying for.
But not worthy to be commended.
They all agreed on that, the unworthiness. For we, a band of terrorists did this not just for good, but for the evil. We had said things that night, after the saving grace of Lifestream, all we could do was stand, and speak.
Barret, yes that old Midgarian; he still lives here, I routinely see him in the streets with his daughter following close behind.
"We did it, y'all! We gone an dunnit!" He had said, so joyously. That speech of his was, indeed, rather curious, and annoying at times. It was as if he hated the common language, only to ridicule it with his own mispronunciation of its words.
"Yes, sir. We finally did it. The Planet's safe, and ev'rbody knows it." Cid agreed. "The heroes can go home."
"Not all of us..."Tifa said. We all knew of what she was speaking of. That young woman, whose past could be ranked with Cloud and Tifa's to be the most sad. Such twists had become known of her beginnings, after the clipping of her wings. She was the daughter of Gast and Iflana, killed by Hojo and his henchmen. Her lover, died to that same blade, that blade whose existence lies within the bowels of our minds. She died, only to be reunited with them all, that last Cetra, the child of Ancient.
"...We have to stop thinkin 'bout it, Tifa." He reply with that solemn voice, giving reverence to the dead, wishing such things hadn't been so...dismal. It wasn't dire, for exciting wasn't what this was. That red jackal had whimpered over those nights in that city of Ancients, everyone did, unusually Yuffie. She had never released tears of mourning, let alone tears at all. She sobbed there, continuously saying, "Why?"
I didn't sleep that night, nor did I want to. I went to pay my respects to that place where she sank into the blue bottom, that place where she could find peace, underneath it all. I was only acquainted with Aeris, never truly knowing of the kindness she had, radiating her charitable heart.
But, I knew her before.
A past to not recall, a past she and I had once buried under the dirt of forgetfulness. That secret, never to be remembered was of a younger time...
I will speak of it one day, but not now.
She was there, dreaming a sleep no man would disturb. But I wished to say goodbye once more, seeing her face. That was the ostensible reason for the plunge, only to see her one more time. Swimming vigorously through the lake's most common attribute, water.
The moon gleamed through the water, giving light to where it was much needed. The heart of the lake was quiet, the wind didn't rustle the waters, just the gravity the planet held. It was a serenade of silence, favorable and scenic for the moment.
It was then that I saw the bottom, even more so, felt it. The face was wearing that smile her father had loved ever since birth. Within those moments of the past, I felt that hand of generosity once more, just as she did before. It was this way when locating the body, eyes closed, hair still flowing with the current, back and forth; like Yuffie's hair within that cold morn' breeze...
I retrieved something I had held for many years, something she could only remember. A simple locket, a locket that her parents wished to give when of age. I knew of the extremity this belated gift of the parents, especially Iflana.
'So she'd never forget...'
Her face reminded me of her so much, I left a tear with her in that lake of eternal rest. That blue water made no distinguishing mark of the tear even existing, but it was there, she knew it too. She was the scrupulous maiden, that child, that little girl; always remaining in the hearts of all who met her.
Cloud's face could explain that clearly, telling of a certain love they had shared, not so easily found. "She'd be proud..."
I was standing besides that old pilot, smiling, think of that baby, so lovely and beautiful. The pulchritude that she had once displayed, and the comeliness she will forever hold. I'd chuckle to the thought, sincerely thinking of her flying once more in joy, never to look down.
To just continue smiling...
"That she would. We did this for her..."I replied, the silence didn't follow though.
"We did this for everyone, Vincent, including ourselves. We can't say we did this for one woman, for vengeance." Red XIII said, the tame beast stood sat upon the metal floor, porous and cold. The cockpit had that stale air again, crew still working at the controls but not as serious or tense anymore, trying to overhear the conversation.
Yuffie just stood there, so did everyone else, either against something or sitting, neither happy or sad, just empty of emotion, or concentrated only on one.
The emotion was regret in its most beautiful form, each member contributing to that silence with calm regret, a silent rue.
"Can we?" Cait Sith questioned, the cat holding himself upon his puppetry. He fooled us all, yet we kept him. The puppet was something only Cloud could relate, everyone would sadly agree.
"She wouldn't want us to... We can't. What would that make people think?" Yuffie's voice was a somber voice to everyone; the crew, the Avalanche, herself. They all could just nod to her decision, her juncture between a girl to a woman.
Tifa noticed the change, too.
"Just accept anything they give us...but don't forget about Aeris, okay?"
"Promise?" Her voice faltered to the sudden shift in the air, looking towards the main window, only to see a destroyed Midgar. "They can't handle the truth right now, sometimes the truth isn't good."
"What will we say then? They already know who stopped Meteor, we can't just hide--we don't want to." Cloud questioned with a serious tone. Never looking at Midgar through that screen of glass, only at her. Tifa had already left the conversation, only holding her hands to her bosom, pushing her hands together, curled as if in prayer. Then came the tear of remorse, then a hand to wipe it away, hiding the pain of death, the destruction one man had done.
For her home? No. For her people? No. For life? Yes, and hated the man who almost obliterating it's definition. "Just tell them what they want." She turned around from the blazing fire, like a premonition of more pain. She looked in Cloud's eyes once more with an answer, truly honorable, yet reminding.
"It's not about us anymore. Unworthy or worthy, they are human, just like all of us..."
Barret began to smile at a thought, a saving grace, how sweet a sound. Like a juice, a mixture of heavenly dew intermixed with the delights that this world could offer, and generously given, yet refused by a young woman, whose mind could very yet outrange my own...
"She woulda wanted it. Lets give 'em what they want."
For Marlene, for humanity's sake, he'd occasionally think. How do I know? He would tell me, in that place of Midgar where the sun would shine the brightest- far away from that cold morn' breeze, for reality was something he wasn't dotingly loving of. He only loved that fantasy life, with his daughter growing without the worries of poverty, or nobility. No range between standards or blood, for they all were the same, worthy or unworthy, for they all are just human...
Like me.
Like everyone else who walked this land, we are the bane of Subsistence; a simple parasite. We cause the infection of hate, of dismay, and destruction. Yet, we bring such wonders to the Planet, for the Planet is us. From the highest butte, to the lowest plains that this world has; it has been touched by humanity, with that cold morn' breeze following them. Causing wars, and keeping peace, the breeze that I'd feel each morn', the breeze that the people of a destroyed city would turn to greet was that unpretentious breeze. The shifting wind of the Planet, telling us, reminding us, pushing us to continue on.
That is what the breeze did that day; the day of Meteor. That first push was that colossal mountain falling to break the union the planet had with its people, that single thread of fate only needed to be touched for chaos.
Sephiroth exaggerated this, bringing the damnation of Space to the Planet once more. He wished to summon a beast whose intent was to kill him included, but he failed. That breeze still blew within the hearts of Avalanche, within the midst of a Cloud.
Only to push the Clouds once more...
Barret would speak to me on days like this, telling me of his life before this peace, discreet sometimes, other times very elaborate. They would be of his wife, his old town, his best friend whose reputation with the group could only be thought of as insane.
"It be like this day. The coal would be our life, not hurtin' anybody. Eleanor, Marlene... They'd be waiting for us...me and Dyne, while we work." The pause he'd take was because of the pain, the hurt of remembering. That porch, that wood porch, where Barret would usually sit, these days. Like the men of old, veterans and grandfathers, people who've seen the world, only to now dream of it while that breeze would come by It would push the porch-roof, letting the small noise awaken the elder again; he'd wake to this noise, as if clamor. He would look around from habit, and try to fall back into that dream, only to feel the cold morn' breeze, and smile.
"They'd be waitin' for us, by the porch-just like this. She'd was my life, her, and Marlene. They were the ones keepin' me goin'. And she's what keeps me goin' now." Not perpetually, but intermittently because one day, that young child would die, for everything must end, but when she does, he will to. It would be then, in the splendor of death, that he would be, everlastingly pleased. For he would be reunited with his love, forever.
But now, he would only limit himself to that chair, still smiling to his daughter and to all of Midgar, but I knew of his unhappiness with life, only to wish him something better. But that was all I could do, wish.
That was what I'd do every morn', when sojourned to my home. I'd stand by those windows, beyond that glass chandler whose reflection of light could eradicate the shadows of where light couldn't usually reach. I would occasionally cover those arduously designed minimized mirrors with a sheet, apparently once drapery. And while I'd think of the miserable loneliness one could feel, Yuffie would be there to hint of her belonging, to me.
But for how long? I'd ask the sun and the moon. Day and Night, to last night, to the very present place I now stand upon. What does the future hold for me? What benediction, or curse had that cold morn' breeze wished upon me? The gloam of the stars would give me no assistance, nor would the clouds give me any shade or gossip. We cannot change the future. Only make the here and now, worthwhile... Those words would repeat within my mind, incessantly, but soothingly.
They were cacophonies, my thoughts of a desirable future. They were inveterate occurrences within my mind, constantly attacking at the predicted time because of habitual confrontation. Chronic- that is the word, repeating in thought, never ceasing, always causing the emotion Yuffie had come to understand.
Worry.
I would bask in worry every morn', for a vast amount of reasons. For Yuffie, for Barret, for Midgar...all these things kept such a tight grip on my mind, to the very point of momentary insanity, but I believed in that wind, the breeze of the cold morn' to push me onward, continuing into life, yet only to have me fall with grief.
For my worry was the least of things.
______________________
"Mr. Valentine!" The voice could be heard from the rooftop, how had they known were to find me? It was masculine but small, and vaguely familiar... Castolf, the youngest member of my Prevention Squad, about seventeen. I walked to the side of the rooftop, which belonged to Yuffie, for it was Yuffie's home. The sunlight was still bright that morn', with clouds walking over the horizon, and some already over it.
"Castolf, Good Morning to you." I said naturally, but his voice was very quaint, as if something was wrong. His brown eyes told me something cryptic, for he was afraid to even mention the problem. He was looking up from the stone street that could go on for miles, smiling unconvincingly. The slightly velvet cape, padded with a fabric no arrow could penetrate, whipped to the side as the wind pushed by. A strong smell of shock came with it, causing that horrid fear again.
Worry.
"Good Mornin, to ya sir. How've you been?" He said softly, only to the affects of the wind. I couldn't understand him, and attempted to jump down, I did, landing on both boots. He moved to the side, as if fearful, but I assured him. "I won't jump on you." He laughed with that hint of fake enjoyment, something was definitely amiss. I came closer to him, hair now blowing wildly in that fragrance the wind carried.
The street was now noticeably bare, no construction crew for a cloudy sky, and no children out so early. Only the passing leaves of fall, miscellaneously scattered with different shades of leaves. Some piles of leaves next to houses, while a rake lied beside the pile.
It was a cold morn, ever since that last sally of wind, and Castolf wore a tunic of black and brown; a coarse material not meant to bring much warmth. "Why would you jump on me, Sir? I didn't think you would anyway!"
"...Okay. You've made this too obvious." His face suddenly changed, giving me the answer I wasn't so sure of. "What's too obvious? There's nothing wrong!"
"Really?" I questioned sarcastically, finding the slight humor, and smiling to it. "Yes! Really!"
"Then why are your eyes twitching? And you're gripping your hands really tight. Something is wrong, so just tell me. I won't kill you." He didn't find that assuring, I'm sure. But, he didn't answer, just continued to persuade me into believing everything was fine, but it wasn't.
"Just tell me, Castolf. If you don't, I'll just find out anyway." His eyes were suddenly serious, and again, afraid. "...something's wrong. Wrong with the neighboring cities... They've put a halt on trading, and some of the roads are blocked. Kalm, Mideel, and I've just heard about an invasion in the Cosmo Canyon." His voice was shaking now, breathing slowly, as if trying to remain calm.
What was happening? "There's going to be a meeting tonight, and they want you to attend."
"Wait, wait. This is going to fast. Are you trying to tell me we are going to war? This might be a rumor, don't worry about it. People are quick to start gossip, don't worry about it. I'm not."
Silence, and fear was what Castolf was feeling and doing. "Is that all?" Another outburst of wind again. "No. It isn't, Sir." Now it was utterly quiet.
"Then what, Castolf? What is wrong?" He stepped back, and shifted his body to the left, then to the right. "I'm really sorry. She didn't see them coming. I really tried to stop her, but she went anyway. Please believe me, I tried to help, but the monsters, and the soldiers were to strong...even for her." I didn't understand at first why he had told me this, but then I thought...
"Is this about Yuffie, Castolf?" We cannot change the future. Only make the here, and now worthwhile...
"Vincent, I tried so hard, I tried so hard..." Water glistened within the lashes of his eyes, never dropping, just showing me how serious he truly was. My heart needed conformation, you cannot hint of death. I grabbed him by the shoulders, tightly gripped.
"Stay with me, Castolf! Is this about Yuffie?!" It came out like a roar of lions, now I see his reluctance to tell me. He was crying now, sobbing like the children that would occasionally scrap their knees. "Yes! It's Yuffie! They killed her, with Sheryl and Marlene!! Yuffie tried to protect them! But the monsters were helping the soldiers!"
"Where!? Where are they? Are any alive?" Tears were now forming in my own. Only make the here, and now worthwhile. She isn't dead, that can't be. But I had never seen him cry before. Sheryl was his sister, he would find anything like this humorous, not death.
The tears finally dropped from the lashes, down on his face. The sun made that evident, as the last ray of serenity fell upon me, leaving me alone, shaded under those clouds with that cold morn' breeze still passing by.
"Outside of Midgar, I don't know how they left, or why." Stop sobbing, please just stop sobbing. I continued to think that, trying to hold my own brokenness within myself.
I pushed him aside as he screamed for forgiveness, as if he did something wrong. "Oh please!! Please forgive me! I tried to get there as fast as possible!" Marlene? Marlene, Barret's daughter? It couldn't be, not her; this can't be happening. "Vincent! Please!"
We cannot change the future. Only make the here, and now worthwhile.
"Stop it! You didn't do anything, stop asking me for something I can't do!" I started to run, like the panther that resided where we found Yuffie. So strong and swift, covered within that black fur, giving them the camouflage of night. But I had no camouflage, no illusion to hold the pain I was suddenly given. So many questions piled themselves, like the leaves that stood next to most houses, incomplete and scattered. Just like my heart.
An eruption of anger, a surge of bitterly composed thoughts came through my mind, my heart. I was giving roars after roars within ever crevice, rift, and puncture my heart had. Assiduous dissonance had plagued my very voice, for I was yelling words of unspeakable meaning. Words of grief, of pain in its most solid form. They were words that death could only cause.
The stones of the road would change colors, as if to the urgency of this day. To gray, then to brown, then to numerous coloration of miscellaneous characteristics. I was running on the rain of tears that fell from my eyes, creating a bow of color.
It was the distortion of heart, a caustic mixture of anger and concern, of questions and presumed answers. I was dying within myself.
As I made my last turn to the great gate of Midgar, that was now closed. I saw nothing that lied beside it, but a primitive watching post. And besides that vigil of security was three men, who had noticed my arrival and face. The stone road was gray now, as if depicting what lied beyond those gates...
My Nightmare.
That face she wore, burned in my mind, like a carving of stone-never to change. She died, and killed something that I couldn't live without. My life could only be filled with this ubiquitous hatred for life; for the love of my soul, that half of Vincent, died.
"Why?" I cried, the voice of a maimed heart echoed throughout Midgar, to the ends of the Planet. The world lost all limits, all purpose. Death was caught in it's filiopiestic act - that horrid tradition of ending life to someone I held so dear. Not like those children, to which I could pity the maternal women that curled to the sight.
No, it was my love, my desired love, my inamorata, now dead and silent; hair still flinging with solemnity, back and forth. They were like the spider's web, each strand of it, torn by that cold morn' breeze.
The amorous love that could only gratify my own heart, whose own interests indulged within my own, my true lover, now dead. Whispers upon whispers, words upon words, the wind spoke the truth within my ear. Words of comfort, that didn't comfort, to pamper my sorrowful heart, yet not making any difference.
She left me, only to die by loneliness, bitterly.
___
Ù
The mantle of that sky, so clouded and devoid of sunlight had seemingly halted construction and deconstruction. It wasn't bizarre to stop work for a cloudy day, since that was their drive, to see another cloudless sky with that blaze of light, traditionally rising and falling to their work. The morn' symbolized work, which today it was a glorious one, but that soon disappeared with the sudden embargo between two significant partners. The sun would give sunlight, and the planet would returning in trade a harmonious day. Yet, the sun, in its lethargy simply decided, and declined; like a child, seeing the sunrise, only to grumble, and smother himself gently with that propping pillar, assisting slumber, softly.
The men had begun to commute about that sky, disdainfully; some praised the sun, promising compensation for its coincidental laze. I watched from afar, still waiting for that breeze of a cold morn', yet it didn't come. I stayed there, waiting for that wind, yet it never blew that gust of reality my way.
Something else would.
The only comfort that existed now was knowledge, knowing of her existence. I relinquished my last stance of relief, and rose to my feet. The cloak made that sound of falling clothing, but being held in place, like drapes. It was recently given to me by that 'puppet,' that manipulated salvation, the Cloud.
The idolized warrior, the man of many lies, taken into truth. It was he that gave this cloak to me, as a gift. For what? For my company, I presume, for helping them to protect what they loved so much, especially that Tifa. That gorgeous woman, whose fist was forever legendary, but they weren't the same people. None of us were. The world could only think of us as warriors, defenders of this planet. Intermixed with Pain and Joy, such varied emotions that could make a villain, and create a Cloud; to let the heartless live, and to kill a now dead, last child of a people, which are again extinct. That range between death and life, good and evil is worth dying for.
But not worthy to be commended.
They all agreed on that, the unworthiness. For we, a band of terrorists did this not just for good, but for the evil. We had said things that night, after the saving grace of Lifestream, all we could do was stand, and speak.
Barret, yes that old Midgarian; he still lives here, I routinely see him in the streets with his daughter following close behind.
"We did it, y'all! We gone an dunnit!" He had said, so joyously. That speech of his was, indeed, rather curious, and annoying at times. It was as if he hated the common language, only to ridicule it with his own mispronunciation of its words.
"Yes, sir. We finally did it. The Planet's safe, and ev'rbody knows it." Cid agreed. "The heroes can go home."
"Not all of us..."Tifa said. We all knew of what she was speaking of. That young woman, whose past could be ranked with Cloud and Tifa's to be the most sad. Such twists had become known of her beginnings, after the clipping of her wings. She was the daughter of Gast and Iflana, killed by Hojo and his henchmen. Her lover, died to that same blade, that blade whose existence lies within the bowels of our minds. She died, only to be reunited with them all, that last Cetra, the child of Ancient.
"...We have to stop thinkin 'bout it, Tifa." He reply with that solemn voice, giving reverence to the dead, wishing such things hadn't been so...dismal. It wasn't dire, for exciting wasn't what this was. That red jackal had whimpered over those nights in that city of Ancients, everyone did, unusually Yuffie. She had never released tears of mourning, let alone tears at all. She sobbed there, continuously saying, "Why?"
I didn't sleep that night, nor did I want to. I went to pay my respects to that place where she sank into the blue bottom, that place where she could find peace, underneath it all. I was only acquainted with Aeris, never truly knowing of the kindness she had, radiating her charitable heart.
But, I knew her before.
A past to not recall, a past she and I had once buried under the dirt of forgetfulness. That secret, never to be remembered was of a younger time...
I will speak of it one day, but not now.
She was there, dreaming a sleep no man would disturb. But I wished to say goodbye once more, seeing her face. That was the ostensible reason for the plunge, only to see her one more time. Swimming vigorously through the lake's most common attribute, water.
The moon gleamed through the water, giving light to where it was much needed. The heart of the lake was quiet, the wind didn't rustle the waters, just the gravity the planet held. It was a serenade of silence, favorable and scenic for the moment.
It was then that I saw the bottom, even more so, felt it. The face was wearing that smile her father had loved ever since birth. Within those moments of the past, I felt that hand of generosity once more, just as she did before. It was this way when locating the body, eyes closed, hair still flowing with the current, back and forth; like Yuffie's hair within that cold morn' breeze...
I retrieved something I had held for many years, something she could only remember. A simple locket, a locket that her parents wished to give when of age. I knew of the extremity this belated gift of the parents, especially Iflana.
'So she'd never forget...'
Her face reminded me of her so much, I left a tear with her in that lake of eternal rest. That blue water made no distinguishing mark of the tear even existing, but it was there, she knew it too. She was the scrupulous maiden, that child, that little girl; always remaining in the hearts of all who met her.
Cloud's face could explain that clearly, telling of a certain love they had shared, not so easily found. "She'd be proud..."
I was standing besides that old pilot, smiling, think of that baby, so lovely and beautiful. The pulchritude that she had once displayed, and the comeliness she will forever hold. I'd chuckle to the thought, sincerely thinking of her flying once more in joy, never to look down.
To just continue smiling...
"That she would. We did this for her..."I replied, the silence didn't follow though.
"We did this for everyone, Vincent, including ourselves. We can't say we did this for one woman, for vengeance." Red XIII said, the tame beast stood sat upon the metal floor, porous and cold. The cockpit had that stale air again, crew still working at the controls but not as serious or tense anymore, trying to overhear the conversation.
Yuffie just stood there, so did everyone else, either against something or sitting, neither happy or sad, just empty of emotion, or concentrated only on one.
The emotion was regret in its most beautiful form, each member contributing to that silence with calm regret, a silent rue.
"Can we?" Cait Sith questioned, the cat holding himself upon his puppetry. He fooled us all, yet we kept him. The puppet was something only Cloud could relate, everyone would sadly agree.
"She wouldn't want us to... We can't. What would that make people think?" Yuffie's voice was a somber voice to everyone; the crew, the Avalanche, herself. They all could just nod to her decision, her juncture between a girl to a woman.
Tifa noticed the change, too.
"Just accept anything they give us...but don't forget about Aeris, okay?"
"Promise?" Her voice faltered to the sudden shift in the air, looking towards the main window, only to see a destroyed Midgar. "They can't handle the truth right now, sometimes the truth isn't good."
"What will we say then? They already know who stopped Meteor, we can't just hide--we don't want to." Cloud questioned with a serious tone. Never looking at Midgar through that screen of glass, only at her. Tifa had already left the conversation, only holding her hands to her bosom, pushing her hands together, curled as if in prayer. Then came the tear of remorse, then a hand to wipe it away, hiding the pain of death, the destruction one man had done.
For her home? No. For her people? No. For life? Yes, and hated the man who almost obliterating it's definition. "Just tell them what they want." She turned around from the blazing fire, like a premonition of more pain. She looked in Cloud's eyes once more with an answer, truly honorable, yet reminding.
"It's not about us anymore. Unworthy or worthy, they are human, just like all of us..."
Barret began to smile at a thought, a saving grace, how sweet a sound. Like a juice, a mixture of heavenly dew intermixed with the delights that this world could offer, and generously given, yet refused by a young woman, whose mind could very yet outrange my own...
"She woulda wanted it. Lets give 'em what they want."
For Marlene, for humanity's sake, he'd occasionally think. How do I know? He would tell me, in that place of Midgar where the sun would shine the brightest- far away from that cold morn' breeze, for reality was something he wasn't dotingly loving of. He only loved that fantasy life, with his daughter growing without the worries of poverty, or nobility. No range between standards or blood, for they all were the same, worthy or unworthy, for they all are just human...
Like me.
Like everyone else who walked this land, we are the bane of Subsistence; a simple parasite. We cause the infection of hate, of dismay, and destruction. Yet, we bring such wonders to the Planet, for the Planet is us. From the highest butte, to the lowest plains that this world has; it has been touched by humanity, with that cold morn' breeze following them. Causing wars, and keeping peace, the breeze that I'd feel each morn', the breeze that the people of a destroyed city would turn to greet was that unpretentious breeze. The shifting wind of the Planet, telling us, reminding us, pushing us to continue on.
That is what the breeze did that day; the day of Meteor. That first push was that colossal mountain falling to break the union the planet had with its people, that single thread of fate only needed to be touched for chaos.
Sephiroth exaggerated this, bringing the damnation of Space to the Planet once more. He wished to summon a beast whose intent was to kill him included, but he failed. That breeze still blew within the hearts of Avalanche, within the midst of a Cloud.
Only to push the Clouds once more...
Barret would speak to me on days like this, telling me of his life before this peace, discreet sometimes, other times very elaborate. They would be of his wife, his old town, his best friend whose reputation with the group could only be thought of as insane.
"It be like this day. The coal would be our life, not hurtin' anybody. Eleanor, Marlene... They'd be waiting for us...me and Dyne, while we work." The pause he'd take was because of the pain, the hurt of remembering. That porch, that wood porch, where Barret would usually sit, these days. Like the men of old, veterans and grandfathers, people who've seen the world, only to now dream of it while that breeze would come by It would push the porch-roof, letting the small noise awaken the elder again; he'd wake to this noise, as if clamor. He would look around from habit, and try to fall back into that dream, only to feel the cold morn' breeze, and smile.
"They'd be waitin' for us, by the porch-just like this. She'd was my life, her, and Marlene. They were the ones keepin' me goin'. And she's what keeps me goin' now." Not perpetually, but intermittently because one day, that young child would die, for everything must end, but when she does, he will to. It would be then, in the splendor of death, that he would be, everlastingly pleased. For he would be reunited with his love, forever.
But now, he would only limit himself to that chair, still smiling to his daughter and to all of Midgar, but I knew of his unhappiness with life, only to wish him something better. But that was all I could do, wish.
That was what I'd do every morn', when sojourned to my home. I'd stand by those windows, beyond that glass chandler whose reflection of light could eradicate the shadows of where light couldn't usually reach. I would occasionally cover those arduously designed minimized mirrors with a sheet, apparently once drapery. And while I'd think of the miserable loneliness one could feel, Yuffie would be there to hint of her belonging, to me.
But for how long? I'd ask the sun and the moon. Day and Night, to last night, to the very present place I now stand upon. What does the future hold for me? What benediction, or curse had that cold morn' breeze wished upon me? The gloam of the stars would give me no assistance, nor would the clouds give me any shade or gossip. We cannot change the future. Only make the here and now, worthwhile... Those words would repeat within my mind, incessantly, but soothingly.
They were cacophonies, my thoughts of a desirable future. They were inveterate occurrences within my mind, constantly attacking at the predicted time because of habitual confrontation. Chronic- that is the word, repeating in thought, never ceasing, always causing the emotion Yuffie had come to understand.
Worry.
I would bask in worry every morn', for a vast amount of reasons. For Yuffie, for Barret, for Midgar...all these things kept such a tight grip on my mind, to the very point of momentary insanity, but I believed in that wind, the breeze of the cold morn' to push me onward, continuing into life, yet only to have me fall with grief.
For my worry was the least of things.
______________________
"Mr. Valentine!" The voice could be heard from the rooftop, how had they known were to find me? It was masculine but small, and vaguely familiar... Castolf, the youngest member of my Prevention Squad, about seventeen. I walked to the side of the rooftop, which belonged to Yuffie, for it was Yuffie's home. The sunlight was still bright that morn', with clouds walking over the horizon, and some already over it.
"Castolf, Good Morning to you." I said naturally, but his voice was very quaint, as if something was wrong. His brown eyes told me something cryptic, for he was afraid to even mention the problem. He was looking up from the stone street that could go on for miles, smiling unconvincingly. The slightly velvet cape, padded with a fabric no arrow could penetrate, whipped to the side as the wind pushed by. A strong smell of shock came with it, causing that horrid fear again.
Worry.
"Good Mornin, to ya sir. How've you been?" He said softly, only to the affects of the wind. I couldn't understand him, and attempted to jump down, I did, landing on both boots. He moved to the side, as if fearful, but I assured him. "I won't jump on you." He laughed with that hint of fake enjoyment, something was definitely amiss. I came closer to him, hair now blowing wildly in that fragrance the wind carried.
The street was now noticeably bare, no construction crew for a cloudy sky, and no children out so early. Only the passing leaves of fall, miscellaneously scattered with different shades of leaves. Some piles of leaves next to houses, while a rake lied beside the pile.
It was a cold morn, ever since that last sally of wind, and Castolf wore a tunic of black and brown; a coarse material not meant to bring much warmth. "Why would you jump on me, Sir? I didn't think you would anyway!"
"...Okay. You've made this too obvious." His face suddenly changed, giving me the answer I wasn't so sure of. "What's too obvious? There's nothing wrong!"
"Really?" I questioned sarcastically, finding the slight humor, and smiling to it. "Yes! Really!"
"Then why are your eyes twitching? And you're gripping your hands really tight. Something is wrong, so just tell me. I won't kill you." He didn't find that assuring, I'm sure. But, he didn't answer, just continued to persuade me into believing everything was fine, but it wasn't.
"Just tell me, Castolf. If you don't, I'll just find out anyway." His eyes were suddenly serious, and again, afraid. "...something's wrong. Wrong with the neighboring cities... They've put a halt on trading, and some of the roads are blocked. Kalm, Mideel, and I've just heard about an invasion in the Cosmo Canyon." His voice was shaking now, breathing slowly, as if trying to remain calm.
What was happening? "There's going to be a meeting tonight, and they want you to attend."
"Wait, wait. This is going to fast. Are you trying to tell me we are going to war? This might be a rumor, don't worry about it. People are quick to start gossip, don't worry about it. I'm not."
Silence, and fear was what Castolf was feeling and doing. "Is that all?" Another outburst of wind again. "No. It isn't, Sir." Now it was utterly quiet.
"Then what, Castolf? What is wrong?" He stepped back, and shifted his body to the left, then to the right. "I'm really sorry. She didn't see them coming. I really tried to stop her, but she went anyway. Please believe me, I tried to help, but the monsters, and the soldiers were to strong...even for her." I didn't understand at first why he had told me this, but then I thought...
"Is this about Yuffie, Castolf?" We cannot change the future. Only make the here, and now worthwhile...
"Vincent, I tried so hard, I tried so hard..." Water glistened within the lashes of his eyes, never dropping, just showing me how serious he truly was. My heart needed conformation, you cannot hint of death. I grabbed him by the shoulders, tightly gripped.
"Stay with me, Castolf! Is this about Yuffie?!" It came out like a roar of lions, now I see his reluctance to tell me. He was crying now, sobbing like the children that would occasionally scrap their knees. "Yes! It's Yuffie! They killed her, with Sheryl and Marlene!! Yuffie tried to protect them! But the monsters were helping the soldiers!"
"Where!? Where are they? Are any alive?" Tears were now forming in my own. Only make the here, and now worthwhile. She isn't dead, that can't be. But I had never seen him cry before. Sheryl was his sister, he would find anything like this humorous, not death.
The tears finally dropped from the lashes, down on his face. The sun made that evident, as the last ray of serenity fell upon me, leaving me alone, shaded under those clouds with that cold morn' breeze still passing by.
"Outside of Midgar, I don't know how they left, or why." Stop sobbing, please just stop sobbing. I continued to think that, trying to hold my own brokenness within myself.
I pushed him aside as he screamed for forgiveness, as if he did something wrong. "Oh please!! Please forgive me! I tried to get there as fast as possible!" Marlene? Marlene, Barret's daughter? It couldn't be, not her; this can't be happening. "Vincent! Please!"
We cannot change the future. Only make the here, and now worthwhile.
"Stop it! You didn't do anything, stop asking me for something I can't do!" I started to run, like the panther that resided where we found Yuffie. So strong and swift, covered within that black fur, giving them the camouflage of night. But I had no camouflage, no illusion to hold the pain I was suddenly given. So many questions piled themselves, like the leaves that stood next to most houses, incomplete and scattered. Just like my heart.
An eruption of anger, a surge of bitterly composed thoughts came through my mind, my heart. I was giving roars after roars within ever crevice, rift, and puncture my heart had. Assiduous dissonance had plagued my very voice, for I was yelling words of unspeakable meaning. Words of grief, of pain in its most solid form. They were words that death could only cause.
The stones of the road would change colors, as if to the urgency of this day. To gray, then to brown, then to numerous coloration of miscellaneous characteristics. I was running on the rain of tears that fell from my eyes, creating a bow of color.
It was the distortion of heart, a caustic mixture of anger and concern, of questions and presumed answers. I was dying within myself.
As I made my last turn to the great gate of Midgar, that was now closed. I saw nothing that lied beside it, but a primitive watching post. And besides that vigil of security was three men, who had noticed my arrival and face. The stone road was gray now, as if depicting what lied beyond those gates...
My Nightmare.