Chapter Three
Part Three
We must travel in the direction of our fear.
John Berryman
I fell into that sleep again. A sleep so far, a world that was damned. A driblet of what it once was. It was an emptiness, an existence reduced to something a man once thought the world should be.
Dead.
Within this state of existence, a cold world of a cold breeze, no, more like the hurricane that the imps and demons of this actuality. It would exhume the spirits of death, of hate, of loneliness. And that purpose could only be shrouded in a nightmare's mystery.
It was the austerity that death held on that cold breeze, holding another morning's doom. A doom not meant for humanity, for the planet. No curse could be so evil, so maliciously created and inflicted.
No sane man could commit this crime, only derision and pain! But who, and how?
Such questions that remain unanswered can only frighten me.
Frighten a man without a soul.
________
An entrechat of the fabricant, the creator of confusion. A tear for each day, a minute, and each and every second. It was the hurt of loss, that epergne elaborately decorated with one, small ingredient.
Regret, the epiphenomenon of climatic distress, the true epilogue of insanity. Yes, insanity. For she was my sanity, the bolster of all purpose, the citadel of my equanimity. Yes, I'd go as far to say that much.
I was loosing my mind, slowly, but surely. I had already gained a strange speech, for I had soon become a man of few words. Quiet and suspicious, a simple reaction to loss, I suppose, but it was much more than that, or it was. Yes, it, the fidelity of the past, the promise I had made.
Did I keep it? The promise was short and simple, to always remember, and to live on. But, what if I could not? This algetic life was the assonance of pain, of distress. What could I do now?
I would think about that sentence, that assortment of words. Prattling within my mind, from answers to questions, from beginning to end, I would think of her, and those eyes that held that beautiful glow, that wondrous shimmer of trust, and that sweet voice of merriment, of simplistic mirth.
But did that exist any longer? No, that climatic jubilee of my life, of her, had died. Death, such a methodical preternatural being, a horrid thing, an entanglement of potency, but of mesmeric qualities. Yes, she had to fall in his hands by his mesmerizing stare, the eyes that could bewitch any. Shrouded in mystery, the mastery of his disguise was to fool the world into eternal darkness, or eternal light.
Whatever which, he still stole her from me.
I would scream imprecation after each blasphemous thought. Perhaps he would come for me too, bringing me to a end without, or with her. Only the gods could consider my fate. But, I was impulsive, and delusional. A drastic mixture of pain, and incorrigible anger.
Barret felt even more heartache than I did.
I knew he did, not by our encounter, for we didn't encounter each other today; just heard each other scream. A scream of loss, a broken tear; these were the signs, and its outcome on us. It was a bitter sweet memory, a morning of blissful awakenings, and the nightfall of kidnap. To the both of us. The men saw that within our eyes, as they came to apologize. The one shooter, and the partner, both standing far away from my hands, as I laid there on that bed linen.
Dreaming of another day, a day so far away from here.
It was lunacy, the dreaming of a dead man: I dreamt of a land that the princess' of my soul resided. A land where its rivulets were of a flavorsome quality, where no rifts or tears lied; a perfect land. The skies bloomed the sun's robust rays, so strong, yet soft. A soothing warmth and of a sailing cloud, a eternal peace and everlasting presence. A presence of what? The essence of my love, of ecstasy and proliferate felicity. Proliferate? Yes, I was not alone. They were there, all of the men and women I had cherished. Yes, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and Nanaki. Cid, and Aeris too, smiling over the horizon, never feeling that cold morning breeze...
But such feelings diminished as the dream ended, and that cold morning breeze blew that horrendous taste of reality, reminding me softly, you're not dead yet.
"Such illuminating circles of white and red I see, a taste of death, the cold bite of life still lingers within my soul." It wasn't a soft voice, masculine, and clearly old. That sentence was familiar, but odd, for this room was a dark one, of dim lighting. The floors were of a cold marble white, and the walls were of a stone that was of a expensive substance.
It was smooth, a glassy covering over something rather hard, but opaque and morosely colored. The dark was in a constant battle with the light, for shadows lied from each corner, and under the bed of metal bars. A stretcher, I presume, again cold but a shining reflection of myself on it.
Stale air, and the dark shadows; the man lurked within them. It was a cold voice, yet his figure could be made out. It was a bulky man, a but of a considerable height. My eyes would wander on to his boots, the only visible object, then to his eyes.
By God, his eyes!
They were once closed, but now opened. A burning fire they were, a touch of flames, and a hint of unreasonable anger. Fear didn't touch my spine, just surprise, and a droplet of curiosity.
"A man of blood tainted robes, and a scarlet hand. A mind of confusion, and...a sudden look of surprise? Spurious, are you not that man who cried for one?"
I saw a strange allurement within those eyes, and in that voice. Yet, a bandeau of fear finally arose within my spirit, within my mind. Then came the balm, a ambrosial aroma so serene, so calm, that the fear was tranquilized into arbitrary trust.
"Who are you? Tell me, immediately." It was an idiotic command, an attempt to control the moment.
Yet, it never occurred to me, that this one moment, instant, time could not be controlled. It would never succumb.
"Odd, you do this out of fear. Shouldn't you calm yourself? For I may be of many things, a creature of powers beyond your perception, yet, you still do this? Then perhaps this noxious appearance was the reason to your fright.
"Forgive me, I had no intent to cause you fright. But, take this as a warning, I don't except such rude welcomes kindly." The light still stood there, shadowing his face and upper body, only the hands were noticeable.
The glove was of sand, both texture and color. It was bewildering, befuddling even, never had I seen sand in Midgar, or even on a glove. It was clenched, tight, while the other was open and relaxed.
The bulb was loosing its light with every second. The shadows began to increase it size, changing the room into something more dark; not physically though. I shrugged, pulled myself from the silhouette of the dark. But, he just stood there, as if awaiting something. A question I assumed, but my supposedly apparent fear restrained me to words.
He said this, with the placidity of the surrounding seas: "Ataraxy is what you want, isn't it? That beautiful tranquility that she brought. She was your Elysium, your heaven, but she has fallen into the caliginous grip of inevitability. You know of that inevitability, don't you? So many have fallen into that obscurity, into death's hands. But your aren't callow, you've felt his pain before...
"Your heart has lost its beat, and your mind has fallen off its course. The trusting man you once was, died with her. And now, when all calamity seems certain, your purpose to living has no significance to you; like a fly, still flying around the light, and dung of this world, only waiting it's death by time itself, or other circumstances.
The sound of it, and that contemptuous analogy, was indeed true. I had no reason for existence, as previously stated, but what did it mater to him? What calamity still roamed the land?
"Don't speak as if you know me. Candidly and briefly stated, that was indeed true. But, I don't need this belittlement. You know of my calenture, her death, and her significance to me. How could you use this disaster to your satisfaction? I'll ask again, and I want a simple answer.
"Who are you!?" First a whisper, then a scream. His voice was as loud as thunder, camouflaged by deep concern of something horrid.
"Vincent Valentine! What you wish to gain from this question will only haunt you until your time's end! The devilry and the godliness I hold can never be revealed to a man, even you! It is a poison, a truth, never to be known. Many have asked, none have survived!"
The growl was an affliction of sound . It's caliber was like the mighty winds of the sea. Yet, I felt the marvel of it all, and finally understood that he, in his obvious power was something greater. A superior being, but somehow relative to humanity. For he was human, hence the fingers, toes, eyes, and lips - but, he wasn't totally human.
The eyes had lost its glow, and the darkness was reduced to a less frightening stance. It was eased back, slowly as the tension rose [but was still there]. Then, I saw his face: coarse, pale, and the small touch of eldership. It was cold, a mixture between the visage of a corpse, and the blue seas. The coarse quality his face held, was indeed apparent. Like mountain ranges colliding with each other, only to rise more from the vicinity of the face.
"Don't let my facade frighten you, for I have many."
"Many? Tell me, what species are you? No, let me rephrase, what are you?" His lips, so smooth, yet so red formed a smile, a hideous smile. A smile which was followed by a courteous chuckle, was displayed to my encrypted disgust.
"That I cannot tell you, for a countless millennia's have pasted without me ever wondering."
"Are you that old?" I began to sit up from that bed, my posterior still lied within the comfort of bed padding, but my posture was upright. My clothing was on, everything, nothing removed or misplaced, and my wounds - gone. I didn't care to think about it, still wondering, contemplating on the man's purpose of his visit.
No, not visit, for what visitor would startle the visited? I tried to forget about it, and focused my thought on his words, but I only was befuddled, to a point of complete bewilderment.
"Why have you come to me? What is this? You tell me your older than humanity, and deem yourself god! If you are such a great being, tell me why would such a deity visit me?"
The question was quick, but spoken with gentilesse. I heard another chuckle, but the slight hint of amusement, yet it was gammy, like it wasn't authentically presented.
Like he felt nothing.
"It will be explained in time. But, I will tell you this, and you must comply."
"What? You have left me in garboil, and have smothered me with even more confusion with your explanation of 'existence'. Why should I comply? Do you think I honestly take your words as truth?"
"It would be wise to do so, but, this is a choice. A choice for that happiness death has stolen."
"What? Are you telling me she can return?"
"Much more than that, Vincent. You will be truly satiated in her love, for she will be alive. Never have I lied, and there is no reason to do so."
"-No, she's dead."
"I told you not to act like this, like you were the older, wiser man. You can't control the situation. You weren't meant to. You cannot fly without falling..." How did he know of this? Why did he use this tragedy to his advantage.
Because it worked.
It was the tear that betrayed me, that divulged my one wound. No physical bruise or pain could literally wound me, only her. She was my one flaw, yet, my one bond.
"How could I not? She's dead, and the pain kills me with every second, every breath, and every heartbeat. Just living kills me, and that's not living." The emotions, the human emotions were my other flaw, killing me with those droplets of sorrow and reticent lamentation.
"I can find the lost, only if you are willing." He said those words, lacking in something. Enthusiasm. Just that bland serious tone, yet, leaving me to faith in the twilight of doubt.
"Willing? To what?"
"It will be revealed in time. But, you will have to travel."
"To where?" Travel. That wouldn't cause much problems, Midgar had suddenly lost its appeal. Though, I'd wonder to why. Perhaps something was there, an object, or just a test. I had honestly considered this, for what was left of my life?
"The cold mountains of the superior, a being so wise, yet so naive. Where the breeze of the cold morning begins and ends. The place of your confinement; go there."
"Niebelhiem? Why Niebelhiem?"
"Don't question me, just either do it, or not. I will only wait for a time, and I won't wait for more than a length of eight sunrises, and seven sunsets. When there, you will know." The light started to flicker, as the shadows began to increase their territory. Like the armies of darkness, overcoming the hope and joy...
...Rendering myself, no longer innocent.
"Of what?" Another flicker, and then finally, darkness. He was breathing, and so was I. Small, but so loud, it was like an animal breathing its last.
Then finally a discontinuance. Only those red eyes, finally closing as the essence disappeared.
___________________
"It is coming. The time is drawing so close. She has opened her eyes, and has inhaled that taste of her desire. Within the white, there is always the black, her removal from this world hasn't changed a thing. They have failed, miserably, she knows this, and so do I."
"Soon, we will finally have dominion over the Civilization, the Dome. They will never withstand the true force of JeN. They don't realize even of our existence, yet they bicker on an on about their frivolous problems. We are more than able to abolish them now, Sire."
"But, the Wisdom knows of us. The stars are crying for the planet, alerting it. You must move quickly to the Cosmo Canyon, before he finds out. If he does, the world will soon know of the preemptive attack.
The Planet is already building its defense, and is searching for it's leader."
"Don't be too concerned, Sire. I have already understood this problem, and have the plans to destroy the defense, and the inhabitants. They won't survive. They'll kill themselves in greed."
"Don't be too certain, the Omnispirit is against us."
"I will, Sire."
__________________
It was the blue suit that distinguished him from the black, creating that feeling of stupidity. He repeated the word 'Jackass', and started to sweat. His palms, moist, and cold. His face was dotted with tiny drops of perspiration too. Yes, he was on the sun.
And he was quenching the flames.
Yeah, he was a moron alright. At least he thought so, and that wasn't going to change, not until he was buried by his wife, while she cried in happiness, "There is a god!"
Sarcasm? My ass, that's how it is. His life was, quote on quote, fucked, and hell - he knew that before the age of eleven. But, now it was really fucked, and what else was he to do but stutter?
"Ye-Yea-Yes m..m..madam...." He was talking to his boss then, but now, he's a representative of Midgar. I'm sure you know him, people call him CS. His real name is Cait Redring, but ever since his famous puppet act, Cait Sith was a more memorable name.
Either that, or loser.
He was actually a cool guy, not a dick or anything remotely jerk-like. He was a genius, but was the kind that stayed quiet. No one respected him, and no one really knew of his existence. Well, the new president did. You wouldn't know the president; he was a rebellion leader.
Rebellion? Yeah, sort of like Avalanche, but more sophisticated. They actually didn't kill people though, just stopped things. They actually cut off all the power throughout Midgar once. A guy named Cait, yeah, him helped. Like I said, he was a genius, but a loser to everyone else.
Hell, I even thought he was a loser. But he isn't. That's why he's at the Grand Peace Ball. It's not a real ball, more like a lecture session of pompous assholes trying to get what they want. Kalm, Gongaga, Mideel, Corel, even Cosmo Canyon representatives were there. Though he only recognized one person, well, thing.
That thing with the candle tail. Red XIII, but now referred to as Sir Nanaki, a title given to him by his followers. Yeah, he has followers, adherents, and bums that adore him. Yep, Nanaki was venerated beyond belief. But, not Cait, no, no, not Cait Redring.
He was a 'fuck-up'. No one gives a rat's ass about him, not anymore.
Only the President, which is pretty good, but wasn't big anyway. Cait was an errand boy, mostly, never to do anything seriously, until now. The day he finally spoke up - the president was amazed. The President, wait, Johan or something, was actually wanting to do this himself, but he proved that he did existed and said:
"I can do this. It's not any trouble for me, really si-sir." Okay, not a big thing, but good enough! Johan gasped and said, "well, whatever." ...Okay, not a totally astounding piece, but hell, he's here, God damn it!
Yep, here. With a myriad people, all bickering about the problems, and snickering behind other rep's backs. The grand meeting was about to start, and he was just busy sweating. Yeah, he's a wuss, I'll say that much.
"I've never seen you before, a Midgarian, right?" It was a guy with spectacles, very magnified to where Cait felt really uncomfortable.
Like you'd want a telescope on your forehead...thought so...!
"Um, ah, yeah, I mean yes. I'm the representative of Midgar..." Don't stutter, just don't stutter. Yeah, keep repeating that idiot. "M-may I ask t-to whom you rep-present-t?"
"Are you alright? Are you always like this? Oh damn, oh damn. Yeah, you've just embarrassed yourself, and now you have to use the bathroom. Great...just great, moron. The man was old, wearing the fashionable black suit, and obviously rich. The pocket watch told Cait that, but then again, he was oblivious to everything.
"Yes, Mr.?"
"Darklight, Rep. Darklight. And may I ask who you are?"
"Excuse me, I'm Representative Redring of Midgar. Who do you represent again?"
"Junon, I represent Junon. A pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Act calm, act calm.
Idiot.
"So tell me, Rep. Redring: what do you hope from the formal meet?" Stay calm, breathe, and smile. Oh god, he'd continue these steps consistently, but it worked.
"There seems to be an embargo on Midgar, and I have been sent to understand why." He nodded, the interrogator that is. He sighed, and then shook his head in disbelief. "You too?"
"Excuse me?" I don't know why he said that. Perhaps he wasn't listening? Well, whatever the reason, the black suit ignored it. He just smiled, looking onward to the next room, where to enormous doors stood. They were of a beautiful wood, mahogany maybe. The two men that held the doors were starting to signal people in the room, which he knew as the Council Room.
I'll explain more when we get in there.
"You're excused, now tell me, what city has refused trade?"
"Three, actually. Mideel, Kalm, and Gongaga." Another nod. "Mideel, Kalm, and Corel have halted all trades, Gongaga is totally independent."
"Independent?" That little village was scarce on everything, how could it be 'independent' without killing off a few people?
"Yes, they've suddenly halted everything. No trading, as if they're building for something. And, they've had a huge increase of population, and we don't know from where they came from."
"How do you know of this?" One rule, never question the leaders. But hell, Redring had already had a pint of booze, his first actually in quite a while. "...Well, I see you as no harm anyway. I have sources within all cities, and Gongaga isn't that underdeveloped city anymore... It's more like a metropolis."
"Excuse me?" There he goes again.
"We can't talk about this here, but I would desire a word at a place; we can talk freely there." He nodded in agreement, but then thought for a second - and put logic in the equation. But, before he could withdraw his compliance, the official was gone.
How could this be? How could the population rise within a few months? And why? What is the cause for this? Questions and more questions, yet there was no answers and no one to answer them. Well, at least he proved useful.
____________________________
"Embargo." The word was said softly, but she was still trying to understand how this happened. She closed her eyes, and opened them again. Looked to the left, then the right. Then, finally, she breathed her last before the pilot would bombard her with his unanswerable query.
She looked up, and sighed. "Well?"
He shifted to the railing, hit it, and shook the pain off. His eyes, darting, signaling panic and questions that he would ask her. But how the hell would she know? Yes, now he'd think rationally, saying: what does she know? She knows as much as you do! Just don't scream at her, calm down, calm down. But, he couldn't calm down. That's Cid Highwind's trait, the quality of unreasonable anger. Like so: "What the fuck do you mean embargo!"
"Like I said: Embargo. What else is there to say? Kalm, and Mideel have an embargo on everything now. Gongaga has closed its gates, and no one can get inside."
He laughed with incredulity, then minimized it into a chuckle, and then nothing. She looked confused, thinking: Is he alright? While he, in his solution of bewilderment, panic, and bitter taste of irony stood there. Why irony? Because he had just invested a huge amount of gil on parts to build five newer planes.
And from where?
Mideel, yep he really hit the shit now, and was getting smothered by friends. He was a worldwide transportation source, the quickest way to get where you want to go, and yet he was betrayed by his customers. Betrayal, abrupt and bitter, and all he could do was laugh like the idiot he was.
"Cid? Cid. Cid calm down, breathe. Cid! Breathe!
"Cid, breathe! Breathe Cid! Oh god, did you take your medicine? Oh damn it! Anyone!" Did I tell you of the medication? Yeah, he has a big heart problem, and his disinclination to it didn't help either.
Then came her savior, a young guy. He wore the customary pilot uniform, but his eyes were in shock. It was obvious he saw the whole thing, which made her think: Why the hell are they always eavesdropping?
He stopped, she started to open her mouth. He turned towards her, and stared, while she pointed to him. He pointed to himself in doubt, but she confirmed it with her stressed voice. It was on the verge of becoming demonic. You know, the pissed voice.
"You! Yes, you! Go get the doctor! Hurry!"
He collapsed from the stress, I suppose. She saw him choking on something, but she didn't know what. This was his fourth collapse, and his second mild heart attack., but he didn't regard it as such. Nope, not Cid Highwind, he couldn't have a sickness! He was the God of the skies! How could he have a heart attack?
"Oh god, Cid. Why are you so stupid? Come on honey, you can do this. Just calm down..." He'd survive, the ass always did; she was just paranoid. You couldn't blame her though, they had a kid. A beautiful baby boy, only three years old, living with Bugenhagen.
Why Bugenhagen? Well, it was more Shera's idea than Cid's. She was in love with that place, Cosmo Canyon, always dreamed about it when she was a child. When she met Nanaki, she followed him back to his home, while Cid just continued to question: Why Cosmo freakin' Canyon?
She tried her best to ignore him, but loved his opposition to everything - oddly enough. But now, she hated him. He just couldn't take a pill, like it was like climbing a mountain for him. Pathetic. He was a stubborn bull, and would die that way.
She was in the hangar, which was empty of anyone else but that young man who she sent for help. Luckily, the doctor came only a few minutes after her calling. He was old, stereotypically, and slow to words. But she didn't care, as long as he'd stay alive.
Until she thought otherwise.
"Oh thank the Gods! Dr. White!" He came in like usual, very slow. He didn't use anything to help him walk faster, though Cid did give him a mechanical wheelchair. But as previously stated, he didn't use it. The common "Nah" from his lips was often the most irritating thing Cid heard, never taking advice or help.
Like him.
"I knew he'd forget them. I have some right here." Now that sentence was said over a minute of time, while he retrieved the pill bottle from his little leather bag. She was ready to kick the guy off the ship, and often wished she could, but he had nowhere to go. His family died in the Meteor attack, like so many.
But, she still wanted him to die soon.
He handed the bottle with his hand shaking erratically, "Thanks again, Doctor." She was angry, so taking the lid was no problem, breaking the lid off was.
She still had more to tell him, too.
____________________
"Mr. Valentine? Mr. Valentine. Can you hear me?" Cold, just that barricade of momentary comfort was there with me, and the formless voice. It was female, a touch of care and concern, but not real.
A doctor. How fortunate to find such aggravating sources of discomfort. From the acridity of cold, to the annoying helpfulness of a intellectual. I just couldn't understand the blandishment doctors usually instill among their patients, while when they die, never excepting themselves as blameworthy.
I call such irresponsibility, doctors. Some actually take accountability, but most just continue that primary hospitable blandishment, while never honestly caring for that one person. A life I'd never pursue, doctors are truly saviors on all accounts.
Yet, this doctor wasn't like the few I mentioned, more irresponsible and spurious than trustworthy. She did the customary doctor's greeting, then took no time to rush me into 'surgery'. Interesting how I had never seen such things carried out.
She injected some green solution within my arm, giving the slight pinch, once again resulting in unconsciousness.
And back to a dream not desired....
Part Three
We must travel in the direction of our fear.
John Berryman
I fell into that sleep again. A sleep so far, a world that was damned. A driblet of what it once was. It was an emptiness, an existence reduced to something a man once thought the world should be.
Dead.
Within this state of existence, a cold world of a cold breeze, no, more like the hurricane that the imps and demons of this actuality. It would exhume the spirits of death, of hate, of loneliness. And that purpose could only be shrouded in a nightmare's mystery.
It was the austerity that death held on that cold breeze, holding another morning's doom. A doom not meant for humanity, for the planet. No curse could be so evil, so maliciously created and inflicted.
No sane man could commit this crime, only derision and pain! But who, and how?
Such questions that remain unanswered can only frighten me.
Frighten a man without a soul.
________
An entrechat of the fabricant, the creator of confusion. A tear for each day, a minute, and each and every second. It was the hurt of loss, that epergne elaborately decorated with one, small ingredient.
Regret, the epiphenomenon of climatic distress, the true epilogue of insanity. Yes, insanity. For she was my sanity, the bolster of all purpose, the citadel of my equanimity. Yes, I'd go as far to say that much.
I was loosing my mind, slowly, but surely. I had already gained a strange speech, for I had soon become a man of few words. Quiet and suspicious, a simple reaction to loss, I suppose, but it was much more than that, or it was. Yes, it, the fidelity of the past, the promise I had made.
Did I keep it? The promise was short and simple, to always remember, and to live on. But, what if I could not? This algetic life was the assonance of pain, of distress. What could I do now?
I would think about that sentence, that assortment of words. Prattling within my mind, from answers to questions, from beginning to end, I would think of her, and those eyes that held that beautiful glow, that wondrous shimmer of trust, and that sweet voice of merriment, of simplistic mirth.
But did that exist any longer? No, that climatic jubilee of my life, of her, had died. Death, such a methodical preternatural being, a horrid thing, an entanglement of potency, but of mesmeric qualities. Yes, she had to fall in his hands by his mesmerizing stare, the eyes that could bewitch any. Shrouded in mystery, the mastery of his disguise was to fool the world into eternal darkness, or eternal light.
Whatever which, he still stole her from me.
I would scream imprecation after each blasphemous thought. Perhaps he would come for me too, bringing me to a end without, or with her. Only the gods could consider my fate. But, I was impulsive, and delusional. A drastic mixture of pain, and incorrigible anger.
Barret felt even more heartache than I did.
I knew he did, not by our encounter, for we didn't encounter each other today; just heard each other scream. A scream of loss, a broken tear; these were the signs, and its outcome on us. It was a bitter sweet memory, a morning of blissful awakenings, and the nightfall of kidnap. To the both of us. The men saw that within our eyes, as they came to apologize. The one shooter, and the partner, both standing far away from my hands, as I laid there on that bed linen.
Dreaming of another day, a day so far away from here.
It was lunacy, the dreaming of a dead man: I dreamt of a land that the princess' of my soul resided. A land where its rivulets were of a flavorsome quality, where no rifts or tears lied; a perfect land. The skies bloomed the sun's robust rays, so strong, yet soft. A soothing warmth and of a sailing cloud, a eternal peace and everlasting presence. A presence of what? The essence of my love, of ecstasy and proliferate felicity. Proliferate? Yes, I was not alone. They were there, all of the men and women I had cherished. Yes, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and Nanaki. Cid, and Aeris too, smiling over the horizon, never feeling that cold morning breeze...
But such feelings diminished as the dream ended, and that cold morning breeze blew that horrendous taste of reality, reminding me softly, you're not dead yet.
"Such illuminating circles of white and red I see, a taste of death, the cold bite of life still lingers within my soul." It wasn't a soft voice, masculine, and clearly old. That sentence was familiar, but odd, for this room was a dark one, of dim lighting. The floors were of a cold marble white, and the walls were of a stone that was of a expensive substance.
It was smooth, a glassy covering over something rather hard, but opaque and morosely colored. The dark was in a constant battle with the light, for shadows lied from each corner, and under the bed of metal bars. A stretcher, I presume, again cold but a shining reflection of myself on it.
Stale air, and the dark shadows; the man lurked within them. It was a cold voice, yet his figure could be made out. It was a bulky man, a but of a considerable height. My eyes would wander on to his boots, the only visible object, then to his eyes.
By God, his eyes!
They were once closed, but now opened. A burning fire they were, a touch of flames, and a hint of unreasonable anger. Fear didn't touch my spine, just surprise, and a droplet of curiosity.
"A man of blood tainted robes, and a scarlet hand. A mind of confusion, and...a sudden look of surprise? Spurious, are you not that man who cried for one?"
I saw a strange allurement within those eyes, and in that voice. Yet, a bandeau of fear finally arose within my spirit, within my mind. Then came the balm, a ambrosial aroma so serene, so calm, that the fear was tranquilized into arbitrary trust.
"Who are you? Tell me, immediately." It was an idiotic command, an attempt to control the moment.
Yet, it never occurred to me, that this one moment, instant, time could not be controlled. It would never succumb.
"Odd, you do this out of fear. Shouldn't you calm yourself? For I may be of many things, a creature of powers beyond your perception, yet, you still do this? Then perhaps this noxious appearance was the reason to your fright.
"Forgive me, I had no intent to cause you fright. But, take this as a warning, I don't except such rude welcomes kindly." The light still stood there, shadowing his face and upper body, only the hands were noticeable.
The glove was of sand, both texture and color. It was bewildering, befuddling even, never had I seen sand in Midgar, or even on a glove. It was clenched, tight, while the other was open and relaxed.
The bulb was loosing its light with every second. The shadows began to increase it size, changing the room into something more dark; not physically though. I shrugged, pulled myself from the silhouette of the dark. But, he just stood there, as if awaiting something. A question I assumed, but my supposedly apparent fear restrained me to words.
He said this, with the placidity of the surrounding seas: "Ataraxy is what you want, isn't it? That beautiful tranquility that she brought. She was your Elysium, your heaven, but she has fallen into the caliginous grip of inevitability. You know of that inevitability, don't you? So many have fallen into that obscurity, into death's hands. But your aren't callow, you've felt his pain before...
"Your heart has lost its beat, and your mind has fallen off its course. The trusting man you once was, died with her. And now, when all calamity seems certain, your purpose to living has no significance to you; like a fly, still flying around the light, and dung of this world, only waiting it's death by time itself, or other circumstances.
The sound of it, and that contemptuous analogy, was indeed true. I had no reason for existence, as previously stated, but what did it mater to him? What calamity still roamed the land?
"Don't speak as if you know me. Candidly and briefly stated, that was indeed true. But, I don't need this belittlement. You know of my calenture, her death, and her significance to me. How could you use this disaster to your satisfaction? I'll ask again, and I want a simple answer.
"Who are you!?" First a whisper, then a scream. His voice was as loud as thunder, camouflaged by deep concern of something horrid.
"Vincent Valentine! What you wish to gain from this question will only haunt you until your time's end! The devilry and the godliness I hold can never be revealed to a man, even you! It is a poison, a truth, never to be known. Many have asked, none have survived!"
The growl was an affliction of sound . It's caliber was like the mighty winds of the sea. Yet, I felt the marvel of it all, and finally understood that he, in his obvious power was something greater. A superior being, but somehow relative to humanity. For he was human, hence the fingers, toes, eyes, and lips - but, he wasn't totally human.
The eyes had lost its glow, and the darkness was reduced to a less frightening stance. It was eased back, slowly as the tension rose [but was still there]. Then, I saw his face: coarse, pale, and the small touch of eldership. It was cold, a mixture between the visage of a corpse, and the blue seas. The coarse quality his face held, was indeed apparent. Like mountain ranges colliding with each other, only to rise more from the vicinity of the face.
"Don't let my facade frighten you, for I have many."
"Many? Tell me, what species are you? No, let me rephrase, what are you?" His lips, so smooth, yet so red formed a smile, a hideous smile. A smile which was followed by a courteous chuckle, was displayed to my encrypted disgust.
"That I cannot tell you, for a countless millennia's have pasted without me ever wondering."
"Are you that old?" I began to sit up from that bed, my posterior still lied within the comfort of bed padding, but my posture was upright. My clothing was on, everything, nothing removed or misplaced, and my wounds - gone. I didn't care to think about it, still wondering, contemplating on the man's purpose of his visit.
No, not visit, for what visitor would startle the visited? I tried to forget about it, and focused my thought on his words, but I only was befuddled, to a point of complete bewilderment.
"Why have you come to me? What is this? You tell me your older than humanity, and deem yourself god! If you are such a great being, tell me why would such a deity visit me?"
The question was quick, but spoken with gentilesse. I heard another chuckle, but the slight hint of amusement, yet it was gammy, like it wasn't authentically presented.
Like he felt nothing.
"It will be explained in time. But, I will tell you this, and you must comply."
"What? You have left me in garboil, and have smothered me with even more confusion with your explanation of 'existence'. Why should I comply? Do you think I honestly take your words as truth?"
"It would be wise to do so, but, this is a choice. A choice for that happiness death has stolen."
"What? Are you telling me she can return?"
"Much more than that, Vincent. You will be truly satiated in her love, for she will be alive. Never have I lied, and there is no reason to do so."
"-No, she's dead."
"I told you not to act like this, like you were the older, wiser man. You can't control the situation. You weren't meant to. You cannot fly without falling..." How did he know of this? Why did he use this tragedy to his advantage.
Because it worked.
It was the tear that betrayed me, that divulged my one wound. No physical bruise or pain could literally wound me, only her. She was my one flaw, yet, my one bond.
"How could I not? She's dead, and the pain kills me with every second, every breath, and every heartbeat. Just living kills me, and that's not living." The emotions, the human emotions were my other flaw, killing me with those droplets of sorrow and reticent lamentation.
"I can find the lost, only if you are willing." He said those words, lacking in something. Enthusiasm. Just that bland serious tone, yet, leaving me to faith in the twilight of doubt.
"Willing? To what?"
"It will be revealed in time. But, you will have to travel."
"To where?" Travel. That wouldn't cause much problems, Midgar had suddenly lost its appeal. Though, I'd wonder to why. Perhaps something was there, an object, or just a test. I had honestly considered this, for what was left of my life?
"The cold mountains of the superior, a being so wise, yet so naive. Where the breeze of the cold morning begins and ends. The place of your confinement; go there."
"Niebelhiem? Why Niebelhiem?"
"Don't question me, just either do it, or not. I will only wait for a time, and I won't wait for more than a length of eight sunrises, and seven sunsets. When there, you will know." The light started to flicker, as the shadows began to increase their territory. Like the armies of darkness, overcoming the hope and joy...
...Rendering myself, no longer innocent.
"Of what?" Another flicker, and then finally, darkness. He was breathing, and so was I. Small, but so loud, it was like an animal breathing its last.
Then finally a discontinuance. Only those red eyes, finally closing as the essence disappeared.
___________________
"It is coming. The time is drawing so close. She has opened her eyes, and has inhaled that taste of her desire. Within the white, there is always the black, her removal from this world hasn't changed a thing. They have failed, miserably, she knows this, and so do I."
"Soon, we will finally have dominion over the Civilization, the Dome. They will never withstand the true force of JeN. They don't realize even of our existence, yet they bicker on an on about their frivolous problems. We are more than able to abolish them now, Sire."
"But, the Wisdom knows of us. The stars are crying for the planet, alerting it. You must move quickly to the Cosmo Canyon, before he finds out. If he does, the world will soon know of the preemptive attack.
The Planet is already building its defense, and is searching for it's leader."
"Don't be too concerned, Sire. I have already understood this problem, and have the plans to destroy the defense, and the inhabitants. They won't survive. They'll kill themselves in greed."
"Don't be too certain, the Omnispirit is against us."
"I will, Sire."
__________________
It was the blue suit that distinguished him from the black, creating that feeling of stupidity. He repeated the word 'Jackass', and started to sweat. His palms, moist, and cold. His face was dotted with tiny drops of perspiration too. Yes, he was on the sun.
And he was quenching the flames.
Yeah, he was a moron alright. At least he thought so, and that wasn't going to change, not until he was buried by his wife, while she cried in happiness, "There is a god!"
Sarcasm? My ass, that's how it is. His life was, quote on quote, fucked, and hell - he knew that before the age of eleven. But, now it was really fucked, and what else was he to do but stutter?
"Ye-Yea-Yes m..m..madam...." He was talking to his boss then, but now, he's a representative of Midgar. I'm sure you know him, people call him CS. His real name is Cait Redring, but ever since his famous puppet act, Cait Sith was a more memorable name.
Either that, or loser.
He was actually a cool guy, not a dick or anything remotely jerk-like. He was a genius, but was the kind that stayed quiet. No one respected him, and no one really knew of his existence. Well, the new president did. You wouldn't know the president; he was a rebellion leader.
Rebellion? Yeah, sort of like Avalanche, but more sophisticated. They actually didn't kill people though, just stopped things. They actually cut off all the power throughout Midgar once. A guy named Cait, yeah, him helped. Like I said, he was a genius, but a loser to everyone else.
Hell, I even thought he was a loser. But he isn't. That's why he's at the Grand Peace Ball. It's not a real ball, more like a lecture session of pompous assholes trying to get what they want. Kalm, Gongaga, Mideel, Corel, even Cosmo Canyon representatives were there. Though he only recognized one person, well, thing.
That thing with the candle tail. Red XIII, but now referred to as Sir Nanaki, a title given to him by his followers. Yeah, he has followers, adherents, and bums that adore him. Yep, Nanaki was venerated beyond belief. But, not Cait, no, no, not Cait Redring.
He was a 'fuck-up'. No one gives a rat's ass about him, not anymore.
Only the President, which is pretty good, but wasn't big anyway. Cait was an errand boy, mostly, never to do anything seriously, until now. The day he finally spoke up - the president was amazed. The President, wait, Johan or something, was actually wanting to do this himself, but he proved that he did existed and said:
"I can do this. It's not any trouble for me, really si-sir." Okay, not a big thing, but good enough! Johan gasped and said, "well, whatever." ...Okay, not a totally astounding piece, but hell, he's here, God damn it!
Yep, here. With a myriad people, all bickering about the problems, and snickering behind other rep's backs. The grand meeting was about to start, and he was just busy sweating. Yeah, he's a wuss, I'll say that much.
"I've never seen you before, a Midgarian, right?" It was a guy with spectacles, very magnified to where Cait felt really uncomfortable.
Like you'd want a telescope on your forehead...thought so...!
"Um, ah, yeah, I mean yes. I'm the representative of Midgar..." Don't stutter, just don't stutter. Yeah, keep repeating that idiot. "M-may I ask t-to whom you rep-present-t?"
"Are you alright? Are you always like this? Oh damn, oh damn. Yeah, you've just embarrassed yourself, and now you have to use the bathroom. Great...just great, moron. The man was old, wearing the fashionable black suit, and obviously rich. The pocket watch told Cait that, but then again, he was oblivious to everything.
"Yes, Mr.?"
"Darklight, Rep. Darklight. And may I ask who you are?"
"Excuse me, I'm Representative Redring of Midgar. Who do you represent again?"
"Junon, I represent Junon. A pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise." Act calm, act calm.
Idiot.
"So tell me, Rep. Redring: what do you hope from the formal meet?" Stay calm, breathe, and smile. Oh god, he'd continue these steps consistently, but it worked.
"There seems to be an embargo on Midgar, and I have been sent to understand why." He nodded, the interrogator that is. He sighed, and then shook his head in disbelief. "You too?"
"Excuse me?" I don't know why he said that. Perhaps he wasn't listening? Well, whatever the reason, the black suit ignored it. He just smiled, looking onward to the next room, where to enormous doors stood. They were of a beautiful wood, mahogany maybe. The two men that held the doors were starting to signal people in the room, which he knew as the Council Room.
I'll explain more when we get in there.
"You're excused, now tell me, what city has refused trade?"
"Three, actually. Mideel, Kalm, and Gongaga." Another nod. "Mideel, Kalm, and Corel have halted all trades, Gongaga is totally independent."
"Independent?" That little village was scarce on everything, how could it be 'independent' without killing off a few people?
"Yes, they've suddenly halted everything. No trading, as if they're building for something. And, they've had a huge increase of population, and we don't know from where they came from."
"How do you know of this?" One rule, never question the leaders. But hell, Redring had already had a pint of booze, his first actually in quite a while. "...Well, I see you as no harm anyway. I have sources within all cities, and Gongaga isn't that underdeveloped city anymore... It's more like a metropolis."
"Excuse me?" There he goes again.
"We can't talk about this here, but I would desire a word at a place; we can talk freely there." He nodded in agreement, but then thought for a second - and put logic in the equation. But, before he could withdraw his compliance, the official was gone.
How could this be? How could the population rise within a few months? And why? What is the cause for this? Questions and more questions, yet there was no answers and no one to answer them. Well, at least he proved useful.
____________________________
"Embargo." The word was said softly, but she was still trying to understand how this happened. She closed her eyes, and opened them again. Looked to the left, then the right. Then, finally, she breathed her last before the pilot would bombard her with his unanswerable query.
She looked up, and sighed. "Well?"
He shifted to the railing, hit it, and shook the pain off. His eyes, darting, signaling panic and questions that he would ask her. But how the hell would she know? Yes, now he'd think rationally, saying: what does she know? She knows as much as you do! Just don't scream at her, calm down, calm down. But, he couldn't calm down. That's Cid Highwind's trait, the quality of unreasonable anger. Like so: "What the fuck do you mean embargo!"
"Like I said: Embargo. What else is there to say? Kalm, and Mideel have an embargo on everything now. Gongaga has closed its gates, and no one can get inside."
He laughed with incredulity, then minimized it into a chuckle, and then nothing. She looked confused, thinking: Is he alright? While he, in his solution of bewilderment, panic, and bitter taste of irony stood there. Why irony? Because he had just invested a huge amount of gil on parts to build five newer planes.
And from where?
Mideel, yep he really hit the shit now, and was getting smothered by friends. He was a worldwide transportation source, the quickest way to get where you want to go, and yet he was betrayed by his customers. Betrayal, abrupt and bitter, and all he could do was laugh like the idiot he was.
"Cid? Cid. Cid calm down, breathe. Cid! Breathe!
"Cid, breathe! Breathe Cid! Oh god, did you take your medicine? Oh damn it! Anyone!" Did I tell you of the medication? Yeah, he has a big heart problem, and his disinclination to it didn't help either.
Then came her savior, a young guy. He wore the customary pilot uniform, but his eyes were in shock. It was obvious he saw the whole thing, which made her think: Why the hell are they always eavesdropping?
He stopped, she started to open her mouth. He turned towards her, and stared, while she pointed to him. He pointed to himself in doubt, but she confirmed it with her stressed voice. It was on the verge of becoming demonic. You know, the pissed voice.
"You! Yes, you! Go get the doctor! Hurry!"
He collapsed from the stress, I suppose. She saw him choking on something, but she didn't know what. This was his fourth collapse, and his second mild heart attack., but he didn't regard it as such. Nope, not Cid Highwind, he couldn't have a sickness! He was the God of the skies! How could he have a heart attack?
"Oh god, Cid. Why are you so stupid? Come on honey, you can do this. Just calm down..." He'd survive, the ass always did; she was just paranoid. You couldn't blame her though, they had a kid. A beautiful baby boy, only three years old, living with Bugenhagen.
Why Bugenhagen? Well, it was more Shera's idea than Cid's. She was in love with that place, Cosmo Canyon, always dreamed about it when she was a child. When she met Nanaki, she followed him back to his home, while Cid just continued to question: Why Cosmo freakin' Canyon?
She tried her best to ignore him, but loved his opposition to everything - oddly enough. But now, she hated him. He just couldn't take a pill, like it was like climbing a mountain for him. Pathetic. He was a stubborn bull, and would die that way.
She was in the hangar, which was empty of anyone else but that young man who she sent for help. Luckily, the doctor came only a few minutes after her calling. He was old, stereotypically, and slow to words. But she didn't care, as long as he'd stay alive.
Until she thought otherwise.
"Oh thank the Gods! Dr. White!" He came in like usual, very slow. He didn't use anything to help him walk faster, though Cid did give him a mechanical wheelchair. But as previously stated, he didn't use it. The common "Nah" from his lips was often the most irritating thing Cid heard, never taking advice or help.
Like him.
"I knew he'd forget them. I have some right here." Now that sentence was said over a minute of time, while he retrieved the pill bottle from his little leather bag. She was ready to kick the guy off the ship, and often wished she could, but he had nowhere to go. His family died in the Meteor attack, like so many.
But, she still wanted him to die soon.
He handed the bottle with his hand shaking erratically, "Thanks again, Doctor." She was angry, so taking the lid was no problem, breaking the lid off was.
She still had more to tell him, too.
____________________
"Mr. Valentine? Mr. Valentine. Can you hear me?" Cold, just that barricade of momentary comfort was there with me, and the formless voice. It was female, a touch of care and concern, but not real.
A doctor. How fortunate to find such aggravating sources of discomfort. From the acridity of cold, to the annoying helpfulness of a intellectual. I just couldn't understand the blandishment doctors usually instill among their patients, while when they die, never excepting themselves as blameworthy.
I call such irresponsibility, doctors. Some actually take accountability, but most just continue that primary hospitable blandishment, while never honestly caring for that one person. A life I'd never pursue, doctors are truly saviors on all accounts.
Yet, this doctor wasn't like the few I mentioned, more irresponsible and spurious than trustworthy. She did the customary doctor's greeting, then took no time to rush me into 'surgery'. Interesting how I had never seen such things carried out.
She injected some green solution within my arm, giving the slight pinch, once again resulting in unconsciousness.
And back to a dream not desired....