Chapter Four
Part One
After all, my erstwhile dear,
my no longer cherished,
Need we say it was not love,
Now that love is perished?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.
Arthur Miller.
I could see it, burning in the flame. They fell from the firmaments like mountains. There was no where for us to run, or hide; we just died. The children saw their mothers and fathers be consumed by the flames of blue and green. We could not see the end of it all; we just ran in fear down each road, and ever corner that it held.
We died in those flames.
It was of many colors and of one shape. The heat distorted the vision and the mind; insanity wasn't so far away. It was in that falling sun over the hills of green, now scorched and dead. It was death, a fatality upon this city and I knew of it, yet I stood firm.
Firm. Not moving, not breathing even a little. My fear was what left me there, for fear itself was frightened. My soul was dying at the sight, my mind was loosing itself to delusion, and my eyes were brought to tears.
But my legs didn't move. My fear was suddenly gone and my panic evaporated. I knew the truth, and I accepted it, but I didn't let it move me. Not any longer, no more cowering, no more tears. I'd repeat words from my father within my mind, the words to comfort my heart, to pamper myself.
They were coming closer and the light magnified itself, and evolved into heat. Burning me before even touching the city, destroying the flesh - pulling it away. Yet, within that burning hell, that easy consumption of what I was, a child, I was firm. I was stable for my end, thus making it fitting for that fivefold encounter, and the following benediction for the fearless.
For I died, willingly. I died fearlessly.
_________
The fixation of time, of my time stood before me while the white entered with her. The air was palatable, just like her image. The beauty she held, and the vaticination she bore within her lips was far from a human perception, but again, I am not human. The blank face she had shown with concern was puzzling yet an explanation within itself. In other words, she saw something. A moment a smile, then the next a contemptuous stare.
Beneath the blue eyes that the seas of Heaven could only compare, I saw myself falling within the black. With that vast darkness, I struggled and tried to escape, but then a word from her lips told me to "trust."
I did, yet my mind would falter, and that trust would slowly recede from my shores; like the darkness would lurk behind the curtains and finally dissolve within the morning sunrise, and the coming of the cold breeze.
"You see valence, Vincent within my eyes. Don't mistake it as otherwise. It was a love that has faded, a trust broken by death. It will never leave me, and it will never leave you for it cannot be forgotten or valuated."
"Why have you come to me? Where are we?" Again I responded, but this moment with valiancy and a notion of curiosity.
"The fire burns with a flaxen tail, dancing within that city. Yet, within this flection of reality - within the dreams of a lover I still see that flagitious flame burning ever so bright... So tell me, one of such age, what are you to do? I still see that flagrant blemish, and the sting it creates... So why do you still stand bold? Yet among all this doubt?"
"Doubt? I don't even understand what is happening. Am I becoming delusional?!" The pristine glow of that white horizon intensified the pulchritude she held. It was like a bland heaven, not purposive or remotely explainable. It was just there, a valley of white with now natural field. The grass that would commonly lie in a field didn't exist here, nor did stones, hills, or a sun. It was just white, a vast opening of it.
"Are you trying to remember, Vincent? Or do you still seek the answer?" I turned to the question, and saw the smile of understanding, though that facial expression of hers was constantly variable. I didn't look into them this time. My pusillanimity was my only valid reason for that, for fear came from those eyes.
I feared of the past. It was a past that was not been of mine, but of someone else. She knew of that somebody, the man she loved, the man that I was. The vagrant who's absent ego was equipollent to his undying love. I could only sympathize for him, for his trait was my own. There was always an aftermath to love, for I have felt everyone.
"I don't know, but within a dream there is always a point of awakening."
"Eager for it, aren't you? You are sobbing in your cowardice, you are a Vincent I never knew and don't wish to. Come; trust me nothing can happen to you within your dreams."
"So it is a dream." She answered softly with a "yes", but her reassurance wasn't comforting. "Vincent, I have come to you because there has been something lurking around. A parasite wanting a host, a helping hand and I fear that it has found it. A political leader, you might say a leader of a nation and, I might say colossal threat. Whatever you think of him as, he has been in contact with the Parasite and has joined with it. The stars, they are crying again. The Planet has heard it and I fear there are no Ancients to stop it."
"I don't understand. Why do you ask me for help? You know of the pain I have suffered, why distress a blind man?"
"A blind man?" She responded in the appearance of a question, an odd question. I blinked, and she drew forward as the cold breeze emphasized on the eerie nature of her drawing close.
Then in a whisper, she spoke again, softly. "You think of yourself as blind?" Then a silence, a similitude with a camouflaged significancy took her voice, replaced it with that gesture of pity. It was feminine, soft, and gentle, but with the dissimilitude of that very characteristic.
She was shrewd, but not terse, rude and longwinded were the notions given. A smile appeared, then disappeared as easily it came. Then the archfiend, archaic yet arbitrary nature of anger emerged from her patent face, so white and gentle, now engorged with anger.
"Oh, you are quite mistaken. That is an understatement, you don't know how lost you are, Vincent. You don't even see the semblance of darkness before you! Your eyes gaze into mine so gentle, yet with so many questions that I have not an eternity to answer! Please, you are not blind - you are utterly lost. Not even the Wisdom of the Cetra could lead you home."
"Then why come to me? Am I some palatable dish to fate? So she can inflict more pain, more distress upon my life? Why not let me be?"
"Vincent, don't pity yourself. It is ostensible that I, no, fate has a reason. That reason is a choice, a choice you cannot decline sanely, and a choice you cannot except without feeling slightly idiotic. It has been to long that I've heard the cries of the Omnispirit-" I interrupted out of shock. "Omnispirit? Where have I've heard of this appellation before?"
It was a reminding of something long forgotten, like a past I didn't live. She turned away from my face, not out of fear, but out of restraint. She held something, knew something that I didn't. I came close, stepped forward. She in reaction looked again within my eyes, so intently looking for something.
A something she had seen, but something else she did not. I saw the glow of her blue eyes intensify, like small feathers on the blue. White droplets of a holy essence, yet consumed by that black sorrow and worry. It was a song of affliction, and of a past that I did remember. The eyes of Lucrecia, so soporific, so filled with rue.
I held her, I could see she was reminding me of that time with that sonance. A breath, a small exhalation of wanting...I held her tight. Sweet lips like chocolate they were, so soft and gentle. Lusciously filled with the taste of nectar, similar to those eyes I adored so much. I let her hypnotic sorcery induce that honey within my own lips, as she kissed me, tearfully and sorrowfully.
"Would you see me cry Vincent? Even your soothing embrace, your honey lips and lonesome eyes can seduce me still. Yet, your heart lies with another, doesn't it?"
"Is my lamentation for her a dissonance? Did I kiss you for that fallacy of ecstasy, or because I still love you?" I pulled away from her, as my own tear came to my eye. I would wipe it away, but she pulled me to her quickly. "Sordid is this world, Vincent. The only way to cleanse your people, for them to show that they are regretful for their sins is for them to repent. You have repented of a sin you didn't commit for so long, I have watched you crawl in that dirt. Grieving for something you didn't do, taking life as a punishment, killing yourself slowly."
"I don't want to see any more Vincent, even in death; I have seen you suffer. Now and only now do I have to send even more pain, more anguish upon your soul. May the destined path that drew us apart be cursed, and may I be the lowliest woman that humanity has given life to. I denied you, a sin I can never correct, a love I have lost. So would you let me go, Vincent? Now that you finally hold me close, so close..." The sanctorium of Lucrecia began to fade in that white soothing blur, color changing within the distance, to a blue, like her eyes.
Distortion - her voice was becoming distorted like a radio projecting static. It was again, another eerie encounter with the weird. "Would you hold me tight? Would you kiss me longer, passion filled, love abound? Tell me once, let the words echo through my mind for a lifetime, let the truth release me once more from the suffering." She breathed as if in ecstasy, holding me close, her head resting on my chest like her final comfort. Her face rose, as the blur seemed to overtake this dream's reality. The face of ivory's gold, loosing all texture, all beauty, as it was lost in the blur of white.
"It is coming more quickly now, oh, how I've dreaded this! Vincent, oh my love! Please remember this. Leave Midgar now it is coming quickly. The power of greed can even consume the godly, even the seraphim of heaven's bosom. Within that greed lies the truth, a truth the world will never believe, a reality never to be spoken. Tell your people of this; tell it with no restraint for the light of this world will fade if allowed to fall into the darkness.
"The fire will fall again, yet, from someone greater than Sephiroth. Greater than Jenova, a godly parasite she is and an abomination to existence she has always been. She has already placed her hold here, the city of a cannon so strong. She holds the pieces of destruction, but the Omnispirit knows of her corruption. Go to Niebelhiem and meet the Haruspex. Meet him within the mansion, don't hesitate another second, don't let your chance pass you by..." Distortion, it was getting darker, her face loosing all distinguishing characteristics. Her eyes have disappeared into the darkening white now, as I fell again into confusion and hopelessness.
Then back into reality.
________
"What is wrong with this guy again?"
"He was shot, remember?"
"Okay then, I'm going to need some blood in here, and a surgeon ready then."
"What? Why? Can't you get them out yourself?"
"Yes, jackass. It's too close to the spine."
They brought him in from the Midgar Gates. Supposedly someone shot him midway in the air. He fell on his right side, with eight actual holes in the back. They rushed him to the hospital, and bang, he's here. The girl, doctor something was assumingly looking for the wounds right then. She was a rushing type, the girl who was always moving. She would be described as a bitch, considering herself queen, and the like. That's how she was, yes sir. I can't remember her name right now though; it's an odd one. I think it's made up, but I'm usually wrong about that. I think it is Faustine...yeah, it is Faustine. Now the last name is gonna be a bitch.
Let me see...."Calixte, I don't know what pissed you off, but now you're pissin' me off now!" There it is! Faustine Calixte, don't forget doctor. Have you ever heard such a name? Faustine? Yeah, it's made up, I know it is. People never forgot her name, though. How could you forget such a pain?
"God, do you ever back off?"
"Haven't yet, and certainly not for you."
"What is that supposed to mean?!"
"Damn it! Just shut up!"
"No! Why the hell should I?!"
"If you knew how you sound right now! You'd definitely agree with me that shutting up would be the best solution!"
"The day I agree with you is the day you pronounce yourself as 'Bitch of the Century'!"
Her daily routine of pissing everyone off was this: one, tell them every weakness they have, emphasize on it like you don't have anything else to do, then spit it back. Two, don't take any jokes, and otherwise make that person [usually a man] feel like horseshit. Then finally, three, repeat that till your death is only about five feet away from you, and even then, still tell them to fuck off.
The assisting doctor, name not important, would try, everyday to make her pleased, but today, he'd learnt that it was impossible. So, in his rage, he finally let go of his anger thus enabling him to say this: "You fucking bitch! I hope you burn in hell, FAUSTINE!"
Now, let me tell you, he was on the climax of his existence, when he'd finally give up. Now, note what follows: He tell her the line above, she'd tell him to get a grip, he'd ask why she hated him, she would reply "I can't stand honest pricks that have no clue to what they do, professionally, and personally. You, obviously, are the worst this planet has to offer, just as simple as that. To be brief, you are a blithering idiot who doesn't know left from right. Every morning, when I get up, I loathe to the fact that my life has to encounter your dumbass, and you know what? I have been realizing this, and have wanted to say it since you've got here. You're a dickhead, and it has been my pain to know you. Fuck off."
She said this all rather quickly, yes indeed. Like one of those antiquated steel trains that don't stop until they reach the final destination. Well, the "fuck off" was technically the final destination, the total halt of movement was he leaving, which is what happened exactly, but it came after the chase.
He chased her, isn't that funny? She had literally run for her life, you would render it as so because of the shiny metal object he held in his left hand. Yet, the reluctance to restrain Mr. I'll-turn-you-into-bitcheroni by the fellow doctors and security guards was obvious, for they to hated her even now. She was screaming through the corridors while some other doctors rushed Mr. Bulletholes to Surgery.
She'd often look behind her in this moment of sadistic madness. The doctor was laughing insanely, roaring his voice with the sentence of obvious delirium. "We still need to attend to the patient, Ms. Calixte! There is no reason to be alarmed..."
Now within these hallways of white, where papers lied pinned against of miscellaneous assortments and colors, there was one guy that actually cared, and happened to have a gun. His awkward position, and flamboyant hair coloring and huge feet were all distinguishing attributes. It gave an apocryphal look, like a bastard perhaps. Not that he didn't have a father, just not a homeland. Usually nowadays there is something to tell the difference between a Niebelhiemian, and a Kalmith. Whether it's the accent, or the ethnicity, or shade of skin, and even down to the clothing you can always tell the difference.
With this guy, you'd wonder if he were from the past! Clothing, historic, somewhat Midgarian but very archaic. The ensemble was composed of: leather jacket with special inscriptions on the boarders, of a silver thread and stitched with much expertise. The boots were the most stunning, Faustine saw them even in her panic! At first thinking "what am I going to do?! What did I piss him off? GOD, I'm so freaking sick of this shit! I mean - Whoa!"
The 'whoa' was the result of the instant sighting of them, and of his face. The guy was a "stud", perhaps that's even an understatement. He was endowed with natural beauty, and, luckily a concern for the poor girl.
So, as a gentleman, he rose to his feet as she passed him by, panting and repeating profanities throughout her mind. The occasional 'fuck' was used only leisurely before, now it was an obligation, like ripples on water when stone hits the surface.
The man's hair was an extreme color, so the doctor instantly realized him being in front of him. Down that hallway, there were two entrances to the one he currently stood, actually being another corridor. The female doctor ran out of the right one, and so did the menacing doctor with the medical butcher knife.
In seeing this, he pulled a gun, specifically an interesting species of a gun relative to a hunter's shot gun. This rifle wasn't the repeatedly seen rusty weapon, but a very elegant machine. The barrel was of a silver polished finely, and the handle of a similar metal. The man himself held a mercurial temperament, and ironically wasn't in favor of abusing women.
Now, assess all this information, add that he is six foot, and the doctor is five eight. Do you see the fate of the doctor already? Repeat this with me, S-C-R-E-W-E-D, screwed, he-is-screwed. Plain and simple, right?
The doctor approached him as if he didn't notice him standing there. Eyes wide with that lunatic look, twitching slightly filled with anger, scratches of red overcoming them. Even the handsome guy was somewhat reactive to the aberration.
He stood still, stone still if I may say so. The doctor had the stigma of excitement within him, I suppose; he ran directly towards him. I'm assuming that he, in his rage-intoxicated self-thought he could push his luck, but then again, he had no luck to begin with.
He expected to bump into a shoulder, what he did encounter was the end of a gun, y'know, the one with two holes from the end? Again, the fear and panic made an algalm that made him whine. A whine of fright, like a child or something like it.
First words? "Back off, jackass."
Now, within the corridor, in the perfect stillness there was a woman that was virtually impossible to locate. It isn't simple enough to explain because it would have to deal with something you have no clue to of existing. Let me just say that within the millisecond of a blink, she appeared.
It wasn't a special entry, just a 'pop' and there she was, besides the standing doctor, the female one. Faustine didn't realize her presence, but she did feel that little trickle of fingertips on her neck.. The next instant, she thought she was capernoited.
What she saw within those five seconds was something along the lines of a 'great' premonition, but this girl wasn't special, just a bitch, she knew that, and so did Mr. Psycho. She'd wonder to herself, but she chose in capitulating all reasoning and gave herself the title drunkard. The lady that entered the room was freaky looking, you might say. Something like or above freaky, but I haven't heard a word yet like it.
Let me remind you that Faustine was already shocked with the attempted killing, shotgun in attempting killer's forehead, and mysterious appearance of this woman, did she need anymore? In other words, she passed out.
Can't blame her, the woman was stressed out, and that was enough for her. She was an official queen in melodrama anyway...
She fell like bricks, falling straight down with the last exhalation of air. Mr. Mighty Fine saw this, dropped his weapon, and dived for her before she could hit the floor. A man who believed in aiding women, I assume, he went down with her.
It was hilarious. How she so awkwardly fell, and how he so audaciously, but humorously saved her neck was just that, hilarious. The woman who caused her to faint just watched this all occur, face blank, watching he and she fall.
The doctor, luckily and unsurprisingly ran for his life down that corridor. She could see him, but she didn't care, she was here for another reason that wasn't for them.
Then "stop." One word, and things came to a halt, another unexplainable miracle. I'd usually say, "huh?", but that wouldn't help either of us out, now would it? To be blunt, she had halted time with a one word. As you can see, she was a being not meant to be messed with.
____________
With the velvet she wore, and the hair that she possessed, you could call her enchanting, but things aren't what they appear. A rip, a tear in reality was what led her to here, to this place. No one could see her coming, how could they know?
A goddess? Nope, not that great, but an entity that held powers only the wise could understand. Her hair was a beautiful brown, light and heavenly. Her clothes were odd, as before, velvet. Her dress was a lengthy one, of luxurious golden chain lied on her hip, like a belt but only of such a fine metal.
She stood there as she eyed the room, a custom she had made for herself when halting something so important to existence. Time would interlace itself with her power, admitting her to do whatever she pleased for moments, but only for moments.
She didn't like doing this though, walking through dimensions of time, and being the intermediary. Such things would be usually done by an internuncio, but this was big, something so necessary to life; she only found it proper to present herself this way. How could she be an abeyance in this world anyway? She just witnessed, what she had heard of, a scuffle, and where she was from, things so avoidable were avoided. But, there was an unambiguous vicissitude within this world, and an even more apparent naive image its inhabitants gave.
She began to walk, she was using much of her power on this traveling. Growing weary with every step, every move, and every magical distortion. She knew he was here, and was very near, but the residue of the Omnispirit was fading away, and even if it was in her vicinage, there would be nothing pinpointing her magic into this world, this dimension. Just a simple touch, the slightest embrace would hold her there, but she didn't want that anyway.
Then impact, she was starting to loose herself as she reached the next hallway, a right. She tried to run even faster now, feeling her power, now lambasted by the slenderizing residue burst, magical debris of blue and white chipping her magic away, removing her from this world into the next.
Faster, faster... She could hear herself as if her voice was projected, a side affect of the robust inter-reality shift, wait, this wasn't the residue bursts, this was actually someone. Someone had been watching, even her roborant regius bracelet hadn't helped, only lead her to the last gate.
She was running much slower now, an apparent thread of distortion passed her as it pushed her in mid-air, thrusting her back against the floor. She didn't hit it though, catching herself from falling. It was strange, she flew backwards like a window-shutter, flapping from one position into the next without her legs moving.
She saw the ground, and raised herself up with her magic. Where she obtained this skill? Such power isn't obtained, it is given by the great.
Vincent. It was faltering, the power was almost used. Give it up. A voice very strong and sinister spoke deeply, but she couldn't understand from where it came. She pushed herself up, as the magic presented her with the effortless push, restoring her to the original position, vertical.
Vincent, don't leave the dream. She wouldn't give up, especially not to this voice, she knew clearly who it was now, the oddity of it was distinguishing from most influential powers, there was only one that was this powerful, only one that would be willing to restrain her.
It was the Harvest.
It was obvious that she was loosing the battle, and using magic now would only set her back, so she ran as fast as she could, not trying to defend herself, or use any magic to prevent pain; she'd feel plenty should she fail.
I am warning you Tifalirani, give it up. You think you can stop the inevitable, you're terribly wrong. You can't stop her, no one can! Joining her will assure your existence, please! She was panicking now, but she gripped her hands as she ran, thinking: don't let him do this again, he is no longer influential, just another enemy. Yes, a thorn that laces around a rose, the wind pulling the petals. She ran without speaking, only thinking to herself, and using magic to secure privacy.
The hallways were just interlacing each other. Each residue burst was shortening her magic, relinquishing her right to be within this dimension. But, then she saw down one hallway three stretchers. Each beside one another, either vertically or horizontally, they lied on each side of the path.
The light, the light. It would normally be somewhat noticeable, but she saw nothing, only two men and one woman. The faces, both imprisoned in time's cage. The woman to the left side was youthful, but a red substance concealed most of her face. An abrasion rested in the middle of that consuming liquid, before the forehead, between the nose, it was hideous. The other two had no manifest wound on them, but the one that dwelled on the right side of the hallway laid within a puddle of blood, presumably his own.
To be curt. He was neither of them, so she continued to run. More residue bursts came and she'd fall to the pain, but then one of the final explosions hit here, instantaneously know she was nearing the last one. A unique power signature came from the last ones, more powerful than usual.
Running, and running. Seeing more hallways, and more corridors as she passed them, but no light. But then, finally, as she ran down the last hallway, she turned to see one corner glowing in light. It was blue this time, a heavenly blue. She ran quickly, actually striking the side of the corner accidentally.
Then there he lied, on a stretcher before two men. They were dressed in a white gown, but cheery according to the faces. The blue light was from a circular essence resting on his head, rotating on his red band, his brown hair encircling it oddly.
He was breathing, but she was oblivious to that. She rushed to touch it and as she did, the light engulfed them all in a fury of white fire. She was ready.
________________
It was said in whispers, they were small but bold. Its audacity, aturchically composed and delivered in total understanding, wasn't noticed by my ears, but by my mind. It was odd. I had never felt such an encounter with words, words so eerily perceived.
They were commands, commands of whom? I suppose the feminine darkness that spread before me, an eternal substance never to be filled with light. It was lonely there, only the whispers were my companions; here and then gone in a moment's notice.
My hands gripped the nothingness, my cloak flung in the darkness as if winds were thrashing it about. My hair was moving, dancing you could say, yet I tried to understand what was susceptible for this unintentional movement.
I felt no wind, nothing came from the vast dark, nothing at all. I was suspended in space, swirling and twirling in the shadows like the danseur of Midgar, yet, I was without a partner.
I was still there, in the darkness, in the shadows. The light was gone, she was gone. Just in my mind now, I could hold her once more. In the white reside within the dark, its puissance, faded, then finally diminished just as did the distortion, the beginning of my delusion, my eternal dream.
A dream of midnight's hell that was what it was. I was falling from my dream that lied within the clouds. I would continue to question my whereabouts, only to later realize my nightmare.
All I could see was the miniscule white lights, so small, like insignificant grains of sand, scattered in that midnight sky, that void where something did lie, where an evil did exist that I had no idea of. It was an infinite evil, a desire so great, a lust so wrong.
A pungent thought crossed my mind as the lights began to disappear, a question that any person would ask. But to whom should I ask? The dark?
I was alone again, and years would pass until that loneliness would be sated, that day when my heart would truly be content...but that is a long way from here, from the now.
Only make the here, and now worthwhile...
She'd whisper that to me at nights, those lonesome nights where only a lover's kiss, embrace, love could sustain. A time where life had reached its limit of pleasure was when I was with her; I loved those sweet fingertips and chocolate kisses. But, now, those pleasures were gone with a passing cold breeze.
Now gone. Just like the light from this sky, absent, dead. Time would only heal such wounds, yet the time would only create more abrasions and wraiths. There would be more wraiths to haunt me, more relentless shadows and plagues of merciless pain, nibbling at my feet, hewing off my heart into the flame.
Don't let the flame burn any longer... The flame, yes, that flame. The incessant fire ravaging my heart, that deadly beast, that inferno that still bellows smoke within my heart. May I live to see the day of when it will be put out, for I cannot do it myself.
I am dead.
The embrace of the Seraphim have brought you life, brought you strength....
My body started to tremble, shaking erratically as the darkness was suddenly changed to light. I could see it, the corners of my eyes watching the four sides illuminate with that heavenly glory, yet I thought of this as a diablerie... They started to grow brighter, overtaking the dark.
It was in sheer fright that I felt my heart thump so forcefully. I didn't know what was happening, and remember, I hadn't understood why I was even there. Then, another thump, this one loud and I couldn't breathe. My two hands jumped to my chest, as if holding my heart in. The sound that I made was a roar, a scream of a lion; terrified and currently mute.
Then another thump, and another scream, what was this? Embrace it, sweet lover, embrace it.
"Don't listen to the voice. Look away from the four points of darkness, embrace reality." Another voice; soft, lenient it was, feminine and magnificent. The four points she alluded to were those heavenly songs. Light, and each metal string outstretching into darkness, like angels of solitude, awaiting my coming, awaiting my arrival.
"Close the eyes, open your heart, and let go."
Why did the voice not wish for me to see it? Embrace it, you will see life as it could have been. "Vincent, listen to me. This is a camouflaged evil, a dissimilitude of what you actually see. Don't let fantasy boarder you from reality. Please, just hold on."
"Why would I hold onto a reality that is barren? Don't let me loose another chance."
"Let you loose? What lies within that heaven you see isn't your lover, and it isn't an everlasting peace. Please trust me, please, you are still needed here."
"But do I need that world?" Embrace the light, embrace it fully. "Would you need that world? An existence were light no longer shines? Where you hope of embrace is dreamt in vain? You don't want that, Vincent. Valentines don't relinquish happiness to disguised ignorance."
Disguised ignorance, was this voice a deceiver? Forget the pain, don't let another fool you back. What lied beyond the beauty of white and black was something I wasn't ready to see, whether it was, indeed, eternal pleasure or a rift between relentless pain and boundless insanity.
I closed my eyes slowly as the first voice left my ears. "Let go, and come back." The confounding light that which confused me of my next destination was blue, then green, and then white. What flashed between the closing of my eyes, and the opening of them was my life.
The younger years were quick, my father's death the slowest. The years of sweet Lucrecia and of the horrors that Hojo had created and the blessings he had destroyed. My conflagrant body lying within that seat, my humanity loosing itself to the beast within. My confinement in the tomb of solitude, a circumscription of which I placed upon myself.
I was dying there.
The opening of that tomb, the battles with the Cloud and the loss of the young gorgeousness I had come to love. Then Yuffie, and the time that passed between us. Then her end...
A sheer blast of white light blinded me as the world enveloped into a white substance, a substance that was vaguely familiar to a ceiling light bulb...
_____________
"Open your eyes." It was a warm touch of a soothing voice, flush yet strong. A woman, a woman of black silky hair stood before me. The light that radiated from the ceiling was bright, which in turn blinded me. She was my shade for the moment, hair resting on one side, the smile rising on the next.
You trusted me.
She didn't say it, but thought it, and somehow echoed them into my own mind. I lied on something high, like a bed but with metal support and little comfort. My clothing was still on my body, my hair lying gently, but annoyingly on my face. The slightest hint of uneasiness rested within my lips, one end high, the other dragging.
Her smile was enchanting, the eyes of a raging ocean. I felt nothing when looking into those eyes, but the hint of mystery and much power lied within them. The winds of the mountains that lied beyond my home from where that cold morning breeze dwelled seemed to awake me from a nightmare into a cherubic dream.
Her eyes were like the rivulets of water, those streams that fell from my hands, cold yet soothing in sound and taste. She was that water, that beautiful cold. She was the Cold.
"Who are you?"
She gazed within my eyes, I did the same. She looked and her eyes twitched like a string tightened on a guitar's two ends, bending to the preferred tune. This, however, was different. She was tuning me, watching and turning the metal gears, stretching me until she found it satisfactory.
Satisfactory... I began to squirm, lifting myself upward, towards the light and her face. She looked in bewilderment, even more puzzled when standing. She looked down to my feet, then to my face, studying me as if something was amiss, or didn't equal what she thought it would.
"Were you not wounded?" Ah, she thought I was immobilized. "Who...who..." Then it struck me like a sword going through my chest.
Why was everyone so still?! The doctors, the nurses, the doors leading to another room, they were all still. I could see the two men in a position so awkward, so interesting and bizarre. What you could see was utter ebullience, subtracting the enthusiasm. A maelstrom of shock, I was literally falling to my knees of shock. What was happening?
I couldn't breathe...
She saw me fall, she saw me gasping, fighting for air. She eased herself down to me, raising my face to hers. "Vincent, breathe, stay calm."
It was echoic, yet wise, her voice. My frailty in trusting was omitted, as my breathing started to ease itself back to its original state. The fragrant essence she gave, the ambrosial balm she wore was actually her natural aroma. They reminded me of the seas so vast, and the sky so blue with those sheets of white spreading across its splendid glory, making the scene more picturesque.
"You don't remember me, do you? Do you?"
"Remember you from where?" I replied with hesitation. Had I ever seen this lady before? No, I would remember such a glorious face. How could she remember me?
"You don't remember. You don't remember." The first sentence was in disbelief, the second time she took that truth in her as her eyes closed. "Please tell me who you are."
She gasped as if she was released from the choking hold of memories past. Looking to me, then looking to her hand. "Tifalirani, I am Tifalirani."
"Tifalirani." I nodded as she gazed once more. I stood, still with questions, honestly wondering what was this all about.
"Please, don't repeat my name...ever."
...I did not understand, tears were starting to fall from her eyes, running down like the horses over the highest hills, all running side by side down the hill, while their tail hair flung within the wind gracefully.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Forget what I said." She said this when she realized of what she had spoken. Those words were curious to me, chaining me to uneasiness and infrequent thoughts that, in time I would remiss about. Thoughts that would make me remember that single frame in time, that frangible frame that could be easily forgotten, but wouldn't because of my arbitrary reluctance.
Was it anger? Resentment that held that memory, that bound it in chains of steel and gold? Perhaps a freckle of that may be, but I was always weary of quick judgment.
She rose, she fell, she cried, she told, she stared, she reminded, she died, and resurrected. That day was the longest day that was oftentimes remembered, yet I did not want to remember...
Tifalirani wiped away her tears as I stepped away from her. She looked towards me, her eyes cryptic, bidding me to wait. Raising her fingers to her pink lips, she kissed them and touched the air.
It was magic, I suppose. Light engulfed the room within a second, and in this frequent blinding of my eyes, I thought that this time would be the ultimate blinding. Yet, I saw her again, and I was still in that room, but this time everything was released.
Released? I presume that's the word. They were released from Time's spell, or magical incantation. The two men that stood besides the stretcher that I originally lied on continued right into the room, while Tifalirani just stood there beside them, watching them pass with it. A "what the fuck" and "holy crap" could be heard from the next room, assumingly the two doctors in white, in surprise of the missing patient.
I walked close to her, wondering to myself, "what is this?" She didn't respond, but I knew she was listening to my thoughts. All women have that foible of eavesdropping, I think.
I have many questions, and I know you can hear me. Firstly, how do you know about Yuffie, and two, why did you come here?
She looked to her left before looking directly at me. Some things are better left unspoken.
She started to walk away, I followed closely behind.
I don't share that thought, Miss...
She seemed to know where she was going, turning at each corner, and in a hurry.
Just refer to me as Tifa, please. I don't have much of a title in this world. Now, for all your questions, I will answer them in time, but meanwhile, we must leave this area.
This area?
Yes, this building, this city, now.
No. I can't.
I believe you must.
I'm not going to leave with you without a good explanation to why you want me.
She halted her marching, turned towards me as her hair and eyes swung with attitude. Anger and frustration were unleashed from her eyes. Distortion was raging as heat surrounded her. Her eyes became a furious red. I don't have time for this, and neither do you. Right now, you have no control over the situation, only refusing my bidding will make this more of an obstacle.
Just tell me, and I won't ask anything more. She sighed in anger as she stepped closer, the heat growing, her eyes opening the flame. Her hands touched my face as the fray between my resistance and her frustration were no longer camouflaged.
There is something in the distance falling towards this city. My clan has been trying to prevent it from striking this city, but we have failed. It will hit before sundown, and this city will be gone.
What about the people? Are you going to let them die?
No, and it isn't of my concern, and not of yours. Right now, I must be certain that you are safe. We only have two hours before it strikes.
Then a smoldering city. Yes. Why do you need me then? I'm not allowed to tell you, but to show you the extremity of your survival. If you don't survive, no one will.
She let go, I fell. The ground was a welcoming cold to my face, but the shock of it all had not made any effect. Or perhaps I didn't believe it. She wasn't at all frantic as most humans tend to be, instead she was rather calm. Maybe the autarchic basis of human response didn't influence her, it was possible she was not human.
The frazzle that rose from her body suddenly vanished as her eyes still were fixated on me. Get up. We don't have time. I know it must be hard for you to understand, you have been confined to this life for so long, you being without this human emotion would be unnatural. For so long? Who do you think I am? She did not answer, only turned towards the next hallway and walked away.
I instantly composed myself, pushing myself up from the cold floor. I touched my face as I felt it still warm from her flaming hands. We don't have time, keep up. With that, I ran down the hallway.
What I saw, and felt was a man rushing past me, a doctor I think. Down that hallway was a man of a much more refined weapon, and a unique taste of clothing. Besides he, was a woman, a doctor as well. They both were lying besides one another, he holding her and her snuggling in his arms.
Tifalirani knew the man, not the woman. They both exited with us from the hospital. I didn't understand what was with the pair, for they continuously kissed one another, holding each other firmly. I had no genuine concern or interest in this love affair, but the constant kissing would make the sequential noise of two lips intermingled with each other.
I first need to go to my home. Where is it? Is it far? No. A block away from the hospital. Fine then, lead the way. In leaving the hospital, the streets curved, and the sun still burned.
But I could see something, after close observation of the sky, or incessant watching of something irregular, I found it. It was purple, not red or blue, but a bright purple. I couldn't understand how it could be of this coloration, and why no one had noticed it. I could remember the days that followed after the first Meteor strike. Everyone watched the firmaments with their peripheral vision, or just simply watched.
In the children's case, they would hold their mothers and fathers for comfort and reassurance, questioning them and crying with them. "Is there going to be any more meteors? Will they be coming for me? Huh, Daddy? Mommy?" I would promise myself to not let anything happen to this city again, not again.
But here it is, happening once again, and I can't stop it, or warn anyone of it. Even if they are saved, the children will be forever frightened, the elderly will always observe the skies, but not out of sheer curiosity, but out of protection and fear. No man or woman would look to the heavens and wonder about its beauty. No, not anymore.
Not anymore.
The building stood high and tall, just as I had left it. The black soot that grew each day on the side of the building was massive, overtaking the silver metal shine of the sides, making it truly seem archaic. She told me not to take long, and I didn't. I went through the glass doors, pushed them aside as one fell off from my hastiness. I ran to the front stairs, up the stained carpet and onward to the elevator. I pushed the highest numbered button, and it made the affirmative sound. It rose, the doors opened, I stepped out.
I looked around quickly. I ran up the next stairs, leading to my resting area. The glass chandelier still hung, the crimson evening sunlight made its signature stance, and with that, I knew I would miss it entirely. I walked towards my two pistols, resting on the plush leather chair recliner.
I checked the clips, I took the keys to locking the elevator.
I walked swiftly down the stairs, I bid farewell to the mystical chandelier that had made a mystifying incantation on my heart. I had authentic love for that glass contraption. I ran to the elevator, I pressed the button, and I reached the entrance floor. I stepped out, I inserted the key to the side of the "up" button, twisted it, and pulled it out. I ran out the door, stepped on the ajar glass door, and left the building.
I believe I did it all in five minutes.
"Well, you did that fast." I think he said that in amazement, he looked at the building and sighed. The build of this man was, in comparison to myself, equal. Yet, he was, of course, young, or at least he did look young. About twenty-one I think, but with time that number tends to be mutable.
Tifalirani was watching the skies as I ran back. The street she stood beside was a muss, bottles and glass lying there. The finality of the hour grew close.
It was time. I could see it in the complication of emotions she held. The mask was obvious, but not thick enough to hold back the emotion. The overbrim of sundown splendor was, indeed, horrid. The fact of which doom had befallen over Midgar was agonizing now.
It had finally struck me.
I began to cry unconsciously. Just tears falling as we walked away to the gates. It was clear to me now that the emotion was beginning to deluge. An abundant source of regret, sorrow, and love for the city left me glistening on my cheeks.
Then Yuffie...
Oh god, Yuffie...
Part One
After all, my erstwhile dear,
my no longer cherished,
Need we say it was not love,
Now that love is perished?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.
Arthur Miller.
I could see it, burning in the flame. They fell from the firmaments like mountains. There was no where for us to run, or hide; we just died. The children saw their mothers and fathers be consumed by the flames of blue and green. We could not see the end of it all; we just ran in fear down each road, and ever corner that it held.
We died in those flames.
It was of many colors and of one shape. The heat distorted the vision and the mind; insanity wasn't so far away. It was in that falling sun over the hills of green, now scorched and dead. It was death, a fatality upon this city and I knew of it, yet I stood firm.
Firm. Not moving, not breathing even a little. My fear was what left me there, for fear itself was frightened. My soul was dying at the sight, my mind was loosing itself to delusion, and my eyes were brought to tears.
But my legs didn't move. My fear was suddenly gone and my panic evaporated. I knew the truth, and I accepted it, but I didn't let it move me. Not any longer, no more cowering, no more tears. I'd repeat words from my father within my mind, the words to comfort my heart, to pamper myself.
They were coming closer and the light magnified itself, and evolved into heat. Burning me before even touching the city, destroying the flesh - pulling it away. Yet, within that burning hell, that easy consumption of what I was, a child, I was firm. I was stable for my end, thus making it fitting for that fivefold encounter, and the following benediction for the fearless.
For I died, willingly. I died fearlessly.
_________
The fixation of time, of my time stood before me while the white entered with her. The air was palatable, just like her image. The beauty she held, and the vaticination she bore within her lips was far from a human perception, but again, I am not human. The blank face she had shown with concern was puzzling yet an explanation within itself. In other words, she saw something. A moment a smile, then the next a contemptuous stare.
Beneath the blue eyes that the seas of Heaven could only compare, I saw myself falling within the black. With that vast darkness, I struggled and tried to escape, but then a word from her lips told me to "trust."
I did, yet my mind would falter, and that trust would slowly recede from my shores; like the darkness would lurk behind the curtains and finally dissolve within the morning sunrise, and the coming of the cold breeze.
"You see valence, Vincent within my eyes. Don't mistake it as otherwise. It was a love that has faded, a trust broken by death. It will never leave me, and it will never leave you for it cannot be forgotten or valuated."
"Why have you come to me? Where are we?" Again I responded, but this moment with valiancy and a notion of curiosity.
"The fire burns with a flaxen tail, dancing within that city. Yet, within this flection of reality - within the dreams of a lover I still see that flagitious flame burning ever so bright... So tell me, one of such age, what are you to do? I still see that flagrant blemish, and the sting it creates... So why do you still stand bold? Yet among all this doubt?"
"Doubt? I don't even understand what is happening. Am I becoming delusional?!" The pristine glow of that white horizon intensified the pulchritude she held. It was like a bland heaven, not purposive or remotely explainable. It was just there, a valley of white with now natural field. The grass that would commonly lie in a field didn't exist here, nor did stones, hills, or a sun. It was just white, a vast opening of it.
"Are you trying to remember, Vincent? Or do you still seek the answer?" I turned to the question, and saw the smile of understanding, though that facial expression of hers was constantly variable. I didn't look into them this time. My pusillanimity was my only valid reason for that, for fear came from those eyes.
I feared of the past. It was a past that was not been of mine, but of someone else. She knew of that somebody, the man she loved, the man that I was. The vagrant who's absent ego was equipollent to his undying love. I could only sympathize for him, for his trait was my own. There was always an aftermath to love, for I have felt everyone.
"I don't know, but within a dream there is always a point of awakening."
"Eager for it, aren't you? You are sobbing in your cowardice, you are a Vincent I never knew and don't wish to. Come; trust me nothing can happen to you within your dreams."
"So it is a dream." She answered softly with a "yes", but her reassurance wasn't comforting. "Vincent, I have come to you because there has been something lurking around. A parasite wanting a host, a helping hand and I fear that it has found it. A political leader, you might say a leader of a nation and, I might say colossal threat. Whatever you think of him as, he has been in contact with the Parasite and has joined with it. The stars, they are crying again. The Planet has heard it and I fear there are no Ancients to stop it."
"I don't understand. Why do you ask me for help? You know of the pain I have suffered, why distress a blind man?"
"A blind man?" She responded in the appearance of a question, an odd question. I blinked, and she drew forward as the cold breeze emphasized on the eerie nature of her drawing close.
Then in a whisper, she spoke again, softly. "You think of yourself as blind?" Then a silence, a similitude with a camouflaged significancy took her voice, replaced it with that gesture of pity. It was feminine, soft, and gentle, but with the dissimilitude of that very characteristic.
She was shrewd, but not terse, rude and longwinded were the notions given. A smile appeared, then disappeared as easily it came. Then the archfiend, archaic yet arbitrary nature of anger emerged from her patent face, so white and gentle, now engorged with anger.
"Oh, you are quite mistaken. That is an understatement, you don't know how lost you are, Vincent. You don't even see the semblance of darkness before you! Your eyes gaze into mine so gentle, yet with so many questions that I have not an eternity to answer! Please, you are not blind - you are utterly lost. Not even the Wisdom of the Cetra could lead you home."
"Then why come to me? Am I some palatable dish to fate? So she can inflict more pain, more distress upon my life? Why not let me be?"
"Vincent, don't pity yourself. It is ostensible that I, no, fate has a reason. That reason is a choice, a choice you cannot decline sanely, and a choice you cannot except without feeling slightly idiotic. It has been to long that I've heard the cries of the Omnispirit-" I interrupted out of shock. "Omnispirit? Where have I've heard of this appellation before?"
It was a reminding of something long forgotten, like a past I didn't live. She turned away from my face, not out of fear, but out of restraint. She held something, knew something that I didn't. I came close, stepped forward. She in reaction looked again within my eyes, so intently looking for something.
A something she had seen, but something else she did not. I saw the glow of her blue eyes intensify, like small feathers on the blue. White droplets of a holy essence, yet consumed by that black sorrow and worry. It was a song of affliction, and of a past that I did remember. The eyes of Lucrecia, so soporific, so filled with rue.
I held her, I could see she was reminding me of that time with that sonance. A breath, a small exhalation of wanting...I held her tight. Sweet lips like chocolate they were, so soft and gentle. Lusciously filled with the taste of nectar, similar to those eyes I adored so much. I let her hypnotic sorcery induce that honey within my own lips, as she kissed me, tearfully and sorrowfully.
"Would you see me cry Vincent? Even your soothing embrace, your honey lips and lonesome eyes can seduce me still. Yet, your heart lies with another, doesn't it?"
"Is my lamentation for her a dissonance? Did I kiss you for that fallacy of ecstasy, or because I still love you?" I pulled away from her, as my own tear came to my eye. I would wipe it away, but she pulled me to her quickly. "Sordid is this world, Vincent. The only way to cleanse your people, for them to show that they are regretful for their sins is for them to repent. You have repented of a sin you didn't commit for so long, I have watched you crawl in that dirt. Grieving for something you didn't do, taking life as a punishment, killing yourself slowly."
"I don't want to see any more Vincent, even in death; I have seen you suffer. Now and only now do I have to send even more pain, more anguish upon your soul. May the destined path that drew us apart be cursed, and may I be the lowliest woman that humanity has given life to. I denied you, a sin I can never correct, a love I have lost. So would you let me go, Vincent? Now that you finally hold me close, so close..." The sanctorium of Lucrecia began to fade in that white soothing blur, color changing within the distance, to a blue, like her eyes.
Distortion - her voice was becoming distorted like a radio projecting static. It was again, another eerie encounter with the weird. "Would you hold me tight? Would you kiss me longer, passion filled, love abound? Tell me once, let the words echo through my mind for a lifetime, let the truth release me once more from the suffering." She breathed as if in ecstasy, holding me close, her head resting on my chest like her final comfort. Her face rose, as the blur seemed to overtake this dream's reality. The face of ivory's gold, loosing all texture, all beauty, as it was lost in the blur of white.
"It is coming more quickly now, oh, how I've dreaded this! Vincent, oh my love! Please remember this. Leave Midgar now it is coming quickly. The power of greed can even consume the godly, even the seraphim of heaven's bosom. Within that greed lies the truth, a truth the world will never believe, a reality never to be spoken. Tell your people of this; tell it with no restraint for the light of this world will fade if allowed to fall into the darkness.
"The fire will fall again, yet, from someone greater than Sephiroth. Greater than Jenova, a godly parasite she is and an abomination to existence she has always been. She has already placed her hold here, the city of a cannon so strong. She holds the pieces of destruction, but the Omnispirit knows of her corruption. Go to Niebelhiem and meet the Haruspex. Meet him within the mansion, don't hesitate another second, don't let your chance pass you by..." Distortion, it was getting darker, her face loosing all distinguishing characteristics. Her eyes have disappeared into the darkening white now, as I fell again into confusion and hopelessness.
Then back into reality.
________
"What is wrong with this guy again?"
"He was shot, remember?"
"Okay then, I'm going to need some blood in here, and a surgeon ready then."
"What? Why? Can't you get them out yourself?"
"Yes, jackass. It's too close to the spine."
They brought him in from the Midgar Gates. Supposedly someone shot him midway in the air. He fell on his right side, with eight actual holes in the back. They rushed him to the hospital, and bang, he's here. The girl, doctor something was assumingly looking for the wounds right then. She was a rushing type, the girl who was always moving. She would be described as a bitch, considering herself queen, and the like. That's how she was, yes sir. I can't remember her name right now though; it's an odd one. I think it's made up, but I'm usually wrong about that. I think it is Faustine...yeah, it is Faustine. Now the last name is gonna be a bitch.
Let me see...."Calixte, I don't know what pissed you off, but now you're pissin' me off now!" There it is! Faustine Calixte, don't forget doctor. Have you ever heard such a name? Faustine? Yeah, it's made up, I know it is. People never forgot her name, though. How could you forget such a pain?
"God, do you ever back off?"
"Haven't yet, and certainly not for you."
"What is that supposed to mean?!"
"Damn it! Just shut up!"
"No! Why the hell should I?!"
"If you knew how you sound right now! You'd definitely agree with me that shutting up would be the best solution!"
"The day I agree with you is the day you pronounce yourself as 'Bitch of the Century'!"
Her daily routine of pissing everyone off was this: one, tell them every weakness they have, emphasize on it like you don't have anything else to do, then spit it back. Two, don't take any jokes, and otherwise make that person [usually a man] feel like horseshit. Then finally, three, repeat that till your death is only about five feet away from you, and even then, still tell them to fuck off.
The assisting doctor, name not important, would try, everyday to make her pleased, but today, he'd learnt that it was impossible. So, in his rage, he finally let go of his anger thus enabling him to say this: "You fucking bitch! I hope you burn in hell, FAUSTINE!"
Now, let me tell you, he was on the climax of his existence, when he'd finally give up. Now, note what follows: He tell her the line above, she'd tell him to get a grip, he'd ask why she hated him, she would reply "I can't stand honest pricks that have no clue to what they do, professionally, and personally. You, obviously, are the worst this planet has to offer, just as simple as that. To be brief, you are a blithering idiot who doesn't know left from right. Every morning, when I get up, I loathe to the fact that my life has to encounter your dumbass, and you know what? I have been realizing this, and have wanted to say it since you've got here. You're a dickhead, and it has been my pain to know you. Fuck off."
She said this all rather quickly, yes indeed. Like one of those antiquated steel trains that don't stop until they reach the final destination. Well, the "fuck off" was technically the final destination, the total halt of movement was he leaving, which is what happened exactly, but it came after the chase.
He chased her, isn't that funny? She had literally run for her life, you would render it as so because of the shiny metal object he held in his left hand. Yet, the reluctance to restrain Mr. I'll-turn-you-into-bitcheroni by the fellow doctors and security guards was obvious, for they to hated her even now. She was screaming through the corridors while some other doctors rushed Mr. Bulletholes to Surgery.
She'd often look behind her in this moment of sadistic madness. The doctor was laughing insanely, roaring his voice with the sentence of obvious delirium. "We still need to attend to the patient, Ms. Calixte! There is no reason to be alarmed..."
Now within these hallways of white, where papers lied pinned against of miscellaneous assortments and colors, there was one guy that actually cared, and happened to have a gun. His awkward position, and flamboyant hair coloring and huge feet were all distinguishing attributes. It gave an apocryphal look, like a bastard perhaps. Not that he didn't have a father, just not a homeland. Usually nowadays there is something to tell the difference between a Niebelhiemian, and a Kalmith. Whether it's the accent, or the ethnicity, or shade of skin, and even down to the clothing you can always tell the difference.
With this guy, you'd wonder if he were from the past! Clothing, historic, somewhat Midgarian but very archaic. The ensemble was composed of: leather jacket with special inscriptions on the boarders, of a silver thread and stitched with much expertise. The boots were the most stunning, Faustine saw them even in her panic! At first thinking "what am I going to do?! What did I piss him off? GOD, I'm so freaking sick of this shit! I mean - Whoa!"
The 'whoa' was the result of the instant sighting of them, and of his face. The guy was a "stud", perhaps that's even an understatement. He was endowed with natural beauty, and, luckily a concern for the poor girl.
So, as a gentleman, he rose to his feet as she passed him by, panting and repeating profanities throughout her mind. The occasional 'fuck' was used only leisurely before, now it was an obligation, like ripples on water when stone hits the surface.
The man's hair was an extreme color, so the doctor instantly realized him being in front of him. Down that hallway, there were two entrances to the one he currently stood, actually being another corridor. The female doctor ran out of the right one, and so did the menacing doctor with the medical butcher knife.
In seeing this, he pulled a gun, specifically an interesting species of a gun relative to a hunter's shot gun. This rifle wasn't the repeatedly seen rusty weapon, but a very elegant machine. The barrel was of a silver polished finely, and the handle of a similar metal. The man himself held a mercurial temperament, and ironically wasn't in favor of abusing women.
Now, assess all this information, add that he is six foot, and the doctor is five eight. Do you see the fate of the doctor already? Repeat this with me, S-C-R-E-W-E-D, screwed, he-is-screwed. Plain and simple, right?
The doctor approached him as if he didn't notice him standing there. Eyes wide with that lunatic look, twitching slightly filled with anger, scratches of red overcoming them. Even the handsome guy was somewhat reactive to the aberration.
He stood still, stone still if I may say so. The doctor had the stigma of excitement within him, I suppose; he ran directly towards him. I'm assuming that he, in his rage-intoxicated self-thought he could push his luck, but then again, he had no luck to begin with.
He expected to bump into a shoulder, what he did encounter was the end of a gun, y'know, the one with two holes from the end? Again, the fear and panic made an algalm that made him whine. A whine of fright, like a child or something like it.
First words? "Back off, jackass."
Now, within the corridor, in the perfect stillness there was a woman that was virtually impossible to locate. It isn't simple enough to explain because it would have to deal with something you have no clue to of existing. Let me just say that within the millisecond of a blink, she appeared.
It wasn't a special entry, just a 'pop' and there she was, besides the standing doctor, the female one. Faustine didn't realize her presence, but she did feel that little trickle of fingertips on her neck.. The next instant, she thought she was capernoited.
What she saw within those five seconds was something along the lines of a 'great' premonition, but this girl wasn't special, just a bitch, she knew that, and so did Mr. Psycho. She'd wonder to herself, but she chose in capitulating all reasoning and gave herself the title drunkard. The lady that entered the room was freaky looking, you might say. Something like or above freaky, but I haven't heard a word yet like it.
Let me remind you that Faustine was already shocked with the attempted killing, shotgun in attempting killer's forehead, and mysterious appearance of this woman, did she need anymore? In other words, she passed out.
Can't blame her, the woman was stressed out, and that was enough for her. She was an official queen in melodrama anyway...
She fell like bricks, falling straight down with the last exhalation of air. Mr. Mighty Fine saw this, dropped his weapon, and dived for her before she could hit the floor. A man who believed in aiding women, I assume, he went down with her.
It was hilarious. How she so awkwardly fell, and how he so audaciously, but humorously saved her neck was just that, hilarious. The woman who caused her to faint just watched this all occur, face blank, watching he and she fall.
The doctor, luckily and unsurprisingly ran for his life down that corridor. She could see him, but she didn't care, she was here for another reason that wasn't for them.
Then "stop." One word, and things came to a halt, another unexplainable miracle. I'd usually say, "huh?", but that wouldn't help either of us out, now would it? To be blunt, she had halted time with a one word. As you can see, she was a being not meant to be messed with.
____________
With the velvet she wore, and the hair that she possessed, you could call her enchanting, but things aren't what they appear. A rip, a tear in reality was what led her to here, to this place. No one could see her coming, how could they know?
A goddess? Nope, not that great, but an entity that held powers only the wise could understand. Her hair was a beautiful brown, light and heavenly. Her clothes were odd, as before, velvet. Her dress was a lengthy one, of luxurious golden chain lied on her hip, like a belt but only of such a fine metal.
She stood there as she eyed the room, a custom she had made for herself when halting something so important to existence. Time would interlace itself with her power, admitting her to do whatever she pleased for moments, but only for moments.
She didn't like doing this though, walking through dimensions of time, and being the intermediary. Such things would be usually done by an internuncio, but this was big, something so necessary to life; she only found it proper to present herself this way. How could she be an abeyance in this world anyway? She just witnessed, what she had heard of, a scuffle, and where she was from, things so avoidable were avoided. But, there was an unambiguous vicissitude within this world, and an even more apparent naive image its inhabitants gave.
She began to walk, she was using much of her power on this traveling. Growing weary with every step, every move, and every magical distortion. She knew he was here, and was very near, but the residue of the Omnispirit was fading away, and even if it was in her vicinage, there would be nothing pinpointing her magic into this world, this dimension. Just a simple touch, the slightest embrace would hold her there, but she didn't want that anyway.
Then impact, she was starting to loose herself as she reached the next hallway, a right. She tried to run even faster now, feeling her power, now lambasted by the slenderizing residue burst, magical debris of blue and white chipping her magic away, removing her from this world into the next.
Faster, faster... She could hear herself as if her voice was projected, a side affect of the robust inter-reality shift, wait, this wasn't the residue bursts, this was actually someone. Someone had been watching, even her roborant regius bracelet hadn't helped, only lead her to the last gate.
She was running much slower now, an apparent thread of distortion passed her as it pushed her in mid-air, thrusting her back against the floor. She didn't hit it though, catching herself from falling. It was strange, she flew backwards like a window-shutter, flapping from one position into the next without her legs moving.
She saw the ground, and raised herself up with her magic. Where she obtained this skill? Such power isn't obtained, it is given by the great.
Vincent. It was faltering, the power was almost used. Give it up. A voice very strong and sinister spoke deeply, but she couldn't understand from where it came. She pushed herself up, as the magic presented her with the effortless push, restoring her to the original position, vertical.
Vincent, don't leave the dream. She wouldn't give up, especially not to this voice, she knew clearly who it was now, the oddity of it was distinguishing from most influential powers, there was only one that was this powerful, only one that would be willing to restrain her.
It was the Harvest.
It was obvious that she was loosing the battle, and using magic now would only set her back, so she ran as fast as she could, not trying to defend herself, or use any magic to prevent pain; she'd feel plenty should she fail.
I am warning you Tifalirani, give it up. You think you can stop the inevitable, you're terribly wrong. You can't stop her, no one can! Joining her will assure your existence, please! She was panicking now, but she gripped her hands as she ran, thinking: don't let him do this again, he is no longer influential, just another enemy. Yes, a thorn that laces around a rose, the wind pulling the petals. She ran without speaking, only thinking to herself, and using magic to secure privacy.
The hallways were just interlacing each other. Each residue burst was shortening her magic, relinquishing her right to be within this dimension. But, then she saw down one hallway three stretchers. Each beside one another, either vertically or horizontally, they lied on each side of the path.
The light, the light. It would normally be somewhat noticeable, but she saw nothing, only two men and one woman. The faces, both imprisoned in time's cage. The woman to the left side was youthful, but a red substance concealed most of her face. An abrasion rested in the middle of that consuming liquid, before the forehead, between the nose, it was hideous. The other two had no manifest wound on them, but the one that dwelled on the right side of the hallway laid within a puddle of blood, presumably his own.
To be curt. He was neither of them, so she continued to run. More residue bursts came and she'd fall to the pain, but then one of the final explosions hit here, instantaneously know she was nearing the last one. A unique power signature came from the last ones, more powerful than usual.
Running, and running. Seeing more hallways, and more corridors as she passed them, but no light. But then, finally, as she ran down the last hallway, she turned to see one corner glowing in light. It was blue this time, a heavenly blue. She ran quickly, actually striking the side of the corner accidentally.
Then there he lied, on a stretcher before two men. They were dressed in a white gown, but cheery according to the faces. The blue light was from a circular essence resting on his head, rotating on his red band, his brown hair encircling it oddly.
He was breathing, but she was oblivious to that. She rushed to touch it and as she did, the light engulfed them all in a fury of white fire. She was ready.
________________
It was said in whispers, they were small but bold. Its audacity, aturchically composed and delivered in total understanding, wasn't noticed by my ears, but by my mind. It was odd. I had never felt such an encounter with words, words so eerily perceived.
They were commands, commands of whom? I suppose the feminine darkness that spread before me, an eternal substance never to be filled with light. It was lonely there, only the whispers were my companions; here and then gone in a moment's notice.
My hands gripped the nothingness, my cloak flung in the darkness as if winds were thrashing it about. My hair was moving, dancing you could say, yet I tried to understand what was susceptible for this unintentional movement.
I felt no wind, nothing came from the vast dark, nothing at all. I was suspended in space, swirling and twirling in the shadows like the danseur of Midgar, yet, I was without a partner.
I was still there, in the darkness, in the shadows. The light was gone, she was gone. Just in my mind now, I could hold her once more. In the white reside within the dark, its puissance, faded, then finally diminished just as did the distortion, the beginning of my delusion, my eternal dream.
A dream of midnight's hell that was what it was. I was falling from my dream that lied within the clouds. I would continue to question my whereabouts, only to later realize my nightmare.
All I could see was the miniscule white lights, so small, like insignificant grains of sand, scattered in that midnight sky, that void where something did lie, where an evil did exist that I had no idea of. It was an infinite evil, a desire so great, a lust so wrong.
A pungent thought crossed my mind as the lights began to disappear, a question that any person would ask. But to whom should I ask? The dark?
I was alone again, and years would pass until that loneliness would be sated, that day when my heart would truly be content...but that is a long way from here, from the now.
Only make the here, and now worthwhile...
She'd whisper that to me at nights, those lonesome nights where only a lover's kiss, embrace, love could sustain. A time where life had reached its limit of pleasure was when I was with her; I loved those sweet fingertips and chocolate kisses. But, now, those pleasures were gone with a passing cold breeze.
Now gone. Just like the light from this sky, absent, dead. Time would only heal such wounds, yet the time would only create more abrasions and wraiths. There would be more wraiths to haunt me, more relentless shadows and plagues of merciless pain, nibbling at my feet, hewing off my heart into the flame.
Don't let the flame burn any longer... The flame, yes, that flame. The incessant fire ravaging my heart, that deadly beast, that inferno that still bellows smoke within my heart. May I live to see the day of when it will be put out, for I cannot do it myself.
I am dead.
The embrace of the Seraphim have brought you life, brought you strength....
My body started to tremble, shaking erratically as the darkness was suddenly changed to light. I could see it, the corners of my eyes watching the four sides illuminate with that heavenly glory, yet I thought of this as a diablerie... They started to grow brighter, overtaking the dark.
It was in sheer fright that I felt my heart thump so forcefully. I didn't know what was happening, and remember, I hadn't understood why I was even there. Then, another thump, this one loud and I couldn't breathe. My two hands jumped to my chest, as if holding my heart in. The sound that I made was a roar, a scream of a lion; terrified and currently mute.
Then another thump, and another scream, what was this? Embrace it, sweet lover, embrace it.
"Don't listen to the voice. Look away from the four points of darkness, embrace reality." Another voice; soft, lenient it was, feminine and magnificent. The four points she alluded to were those heavenly songs. Light, and each metal string outstretching into darkness, like angels of solitude, awaiting my coming, awaiting my arrival.
"Close the eyes, open your heart, and let go."
Why did the voice not wish for me to see it? Embrace it, you will see life as it could have been. "Vincent, listen to me. This is a camouflaged evil, a dissimilitude of what you actually see. Don't let fantasy boarder you from reality. Please, just hold on."
"Why would I hold onto a reality that is barren? Don't let me loose another chance."
"Let you loose? What lies within that heaven you see isn't your lover, and it isn't an everlasting peace. Please trust me, please, you are still needed here."
"But do I need that world?" Embrace the light, embrace it fully. "Would you need that world? An existence were light no longer shines? Where you hope of embrace is dreamt in vain? You don't want that, Vincent. Valentines don't relinquish happiness to disguised ignorance."
Disguised ignorance, was this voice a deceiver? Forget the pain, don't let another fool you back. What lied beyond the beauty of white and black was something I wasn't ready to see, whether it was, indeed, eternal pleasure or a rift between relentless pain and boundless insanity.
I closed my eyes slowly as the first voice left my ears. "Let go, and come back." The confounding light that which confused me of my next destination was blue, then green, and then white. What flashed between the closing of my eyes, and the opening of them was my life.
The younger years were quick, my father's death the slowest. The years of sweet Lucrecia and of the horrors that Hojo had created and the blessings he had destroyed. My conflagrant body lying within that seat, my humanity loosing itself to the beast within. My confinement in the tomb of solitude, a circumscription of which I placed upon myself.
I was dying there.
The opening of that tomb, the battles with the Cloud and the loss of the young gorgeousness I had come to love. Then Yuffie, and the time that passed between us. Then her end...
A sheer blast of white light blinded me as the world enveloped into a white substance, a substance that was vaguely familiar to a ceiling light bulb...
_____________
"Open your eyes." It was a warm touch of a soothing voice, flush yet strong. A woman, a woman of black silky hair stood before me. The light that radiated from the ceiling was bright, which in turn blinded me. She was my shade for the moment, hair resting on one side, the smile rising on the next.
You trusted me.
She didn't say it, but thought it, and somehow echoed them into my own mind. I lied on something high, like a bed but with metal support and little comfort. My clothing was still on my body, my hair lying gently, but annoyingly on my face. The slightest hint of uneasiness rested within my lips, one end high, the other dragging.
Her smile was enchanting, the eyes of a raging ocean. I felt nothing when looking into those eyes, but the hint of mystery and much power lied within them. The winds of the mountains that lied beyond my home from where that cold morning breeze dwelled seemed to awake me from a nightmare into a cherubic dream.
Her eyes were like the rivulets of water, those streams that fell from my hands, cold yet soothing in sound and taste. She was that water, that beautiful cold. She was the Cold.
"Who are you?"
She gazed within my eyes, I did the same. She looked and her eyes twitched like a string tightened on a guitar's two ends, bending to the preferred tune. This, however, was different. She was tuning me, watching and turning the metal gears, stretching me until she found it satisfactory.
Satisfactory... I began to squirm, lifting myself upward, towards the light and her face. She looked in bewilderment, even more puzzled when standing. She looked down to my feet, then to my face, studying me as if something was amiss, or didn't equal what she thought it would.
"Were you not wounded?" Ah, she thought I was immobilized. "Who...who..." Then it struck me like a sword going through my chest.
Why was everyone so still?! The doctors, the nurses, the doors leading to another room, they were all still. I could see the two men in a position so awkward, so interesting and bizarre. What you could see was utter ebullience, subtracting the enthusiasm. A maelstrom of shock, I was literally falling to my knees of shock. What was happening?
I couldn't breathe...
She saw me fall, she saw me gasping, fighting for air. She eased herself down to me, raising my face to hers. "Vincent, breathe, stay calm."
It was echoic, yet wise, her voice. My frailty in trusting was omitted, as my breathing started to ease itself back to its original state. The fragrant essence she gave, the ambrosial balm she wore was actually her natural aroma. They reminded me of the seas so vast, and the sky so blue with those sheets of white spreading across its splendid glory, making the scene more picturesque.
"You don't remember me, do you? Do you?"
"Remember you from where?" I replied with hesitation. Had I ever seen this lady before? No, I would remember such a glorious face. How could she remember me?
"You don't remember. You don't remember." The first sentence was in disbelief, the second time she took that truth in her as her eyes closed. "Please tell me who you are."
She gasped as if she was released from the choking hold of memories past. Looking to me, then looking to her hand. "Tifalirani, I am Tifalirani."
"Tifalirani." I nodded as she gazed once more. I stood, still with questions, honestly wondering what was this all about.
"Please, don't repeat my name...ever."
...I did not understand, tears were starting to fall from her eyes, running down like the horses over the highest hills, all running side by side down the hill, while their tail hair flung within the wind gracefully.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Forget what I said." She said this when she realized of what she had spoken. Those words were curious to me, chaining me to uneasiness and infrequent thoughts that, in time I would remiss about. Thoughts that would make me remember that single frame in time, that frangible frame that could be easily forgotten, but wouldn't because of my arbitrary reluctance.
Was it anger? Resentment that held that memory, that bound it in chains of steel and gold? Perhaps a freckle of that may be, but I was always weary of quick judgment.
She rose, she fell, she cried, she told, she stared, she reminded, she died, and resurrected. That day was the longest day that was oftentimes remembered, yet I did not want to remember...
Tifalirani wiped away her tears as I stepped away from her. She looked towards me, her eyes cryptic, bidding me to wait. Raising her fingers to her pink lips, she kissed them and touched the air.
It was magic, I suppose. Light engulfed the room within a second, and in this frequent blinding of my eyes, I thought that this time would be the ultimate blinding. Yet, I saw her again, and I was still in that room, but this time everything was released.
Released? I presume that's the word. They were released from Time's spell, or magical incantation. The two men that stood besides the stretcher that I originally lied on continued right into the room, while Tifalirani just stood there beside them, watching them pass with it. A "what the fuck" and "holy crap" could be heard from the next room, assumingly the two doctors in white, in surprise of the missing patient.
I walked close to her, wondering to myself, "what is this?" She didn't respond, but I knew she was listening to my thoughts. All women have that foible of eavesdropping, I think.
I have many questions, and I know you can hear me. Firstly, how do you know about Yuffie, and two, why did you come here?
She looked to her left before looking directly at me. Some things are better left unspoken.
She started to walk away, I followed closely behind.
I don't share that thought, Miss...
She seemed to know where she was going, turning at each corner, and in a hurry.
Just refer to me as Tifa, please. I don't have much of a title in this world. Now, for all your questions, I will answer them in time, but meanwhile, we must leave this area.
This area?
Yes, this building, this city, now.
No. I can't.
I believe you must.
I'm not going to leave with you without a good explanation to why you want me.
She halted her marching, turned towards me as her hair and eyes swung with attitude. Anger and frustration were unleashed from her eyes. Distortion was raging as heat surrounded her. Her eyes became a furious red. I don't have time for this, and neither do you. Right now, you have no control over the situation, only refusing my bidding will make this more of an obstacle.
Just tell me, and I won't ask anything more. She sighed in anger as she stepped closer, the heat growing, her eyes opening the flame. Her hands touched my face as the fray between my resistance and her frustration were no longer camouflaged.
There is something in the distance falling towards this city. My clan has been trying to prevent it from striking this city, but we have failed. It will hit before sundown, and this city will be gone.
What about the people? Are you going to let them die?
No, and it isn't of my concern, and not of yours. Right now, I must be certain that you are safe. We only have two hours before it strikes.
Then a smoldering city. Yes. Why do you need me then? I'm not allowed to tell you, but to show you the extremity of your survival. If you don't survive, no one will.
She let go, I fell. The ground was a welcoming cold to my face, but the shock of it all had not made any effect. Or perhaps I didn't believe it. She wasn't at all frantic as most humans tend to be, instead she was rather calm. Maybe the autarchic basis of human response didn't influence her, it was possible she was not human.
The frazzle that rose from her body suddenly vanished as her eyes still were fixated on me. Get up. We don't have time. I know it must be hard for you to understand, you have been confined to this life for so long, you being without this human emotion would be unnatural. For so long? Who do you think I am? She did not answer, only turned towards the next hallway and walked away.
I instantly composed myself, pushing myself up from the cold floor. I touched my face as I felt it still warm from her flaming hands. We don't have time, keep up. With that, I ran down the hallway.
What I saw, and felt was a man rushing past me, a doctor I think. Down that hallway was a man of a much more refined weapon, and a unique taste of clothing. Besides he, was a woman, a doctor as well. They both were lying besides one another, he holding her and her snuggling in his arms.
Tifalirani knew the man, not the woman. They both exited with us from the hospital. I didn't understand what was with the pair, for they continuously kissed one another, holding each other firmly. I had no genuine concern or interest in this love affair, but the constant kissing would make the sequential noise of two lips intermingled with each other.
I first need to go to my home. Where is it? Is it far? No. A block away from the hospital. Fine then, lead the way. In leaving the hospital, the streets curved, and the sun still burned.
But I could see something, after close observation of the sky, or incessant watching of something irregular, I found it. It was purple, not red or blue, but a bright purple. I couldn't understand how it could be of this coloration, and why no one had noticed it. I could remember the days that followed after the first Meteor strike. Everyone watched the firmaments with their peripheral vision, or just simply watched.
In the children's case, they would hold their mothers and fathers for comfort and reassurance, questioning them and crying with them. "Is there going to be any more meteors? Will they be coming for me? Huh, Daddy? Mommy?" I would promise myself to not let anything happen to this city again, not again.
But here it is, happening once again, and I can't stop it, or warn anyone of it. Even if they are saved, the children will be forever frightened, the elderly will always observe the skies, but not out of sheer curiosity, but out of protection and fear. No man or woman would look to the heavens and wonder about its beauty. No, not anymore.
Not anymore.
The building stood high and tall, just as I had left it. The black soot that grew each day on the side of the building was massive, overtaking the silver metal shine of the sides, making it truly seem archaic. She told me not to take long, and I didn't. I went through the glass doors, pushed them aside as one fell off from my hastiness. I ran to the front stairs, up the stained carpet and onward to the elevator. I pushed the highest numbered button, and it made the affirmative sound. It rose, the doors opened, I stepped out.
I looked around quickly. I ran up the next stairs, leading to my resting area. The glass chandelier still hung, the crimson evening sunlight made its signature stance, and with that, I knew I would miss it entirely. I walked towards my two pistols, resting on the plush leather chair recliner.
I checked the clips, I took the keys to locking the elevator.
I walked swiftly down the stairs, I bid farewell to the mystical chandelier that had made a mystifying incantation on my heart. I had authentic love for that glass contraption. I ran to the elevator, I pressed the button, and I reached the entrance floor. I stepped out, I inserted the key to the side of the "up" button, twisted it, and pulled it out. I ran out the door, stepped on the ajar glass door, and left the building.
I believe I did it all in five minutes.
"Well, you did that fast." I think he said that in amazement, he looked at the building and sighed. The build of this man was, in comparison to myself, equal. Yet, he was, of course, young, or at least he did look young. About twenty-one I think, but with time that number tends to be mutable.
Tifalirani was watching the skies as I ran back. The street she stood beside was a muss, bottles and glass lying there. The finality of the hour grew close.
It was time. I could see it in the complication of emotions she held. The mask was obvious, but not thick enough to hold back the emotion. The overbrim of sundown splendor was, indeed, horrid. The fact of which doom had befallen over Midgar was agonizing now.
It had finally struck me.
I began to cry unconsciously. Just tears falling as we walked away to the gates. It was clear to me now that the emotion was beginning to deluge. An abundant source of regret, sorrow, and love for the city left me glistening on my cheeks.
Then Yuffie...
Oh god, Yuffie...