Learning about himself was not an easy task. After arriving by ship to the mainland, Shayne had taken him to Kalm. Before leaving to his own hometown, he had handed his companion a leather pouch that jingled when placed in his hands. At the other's questioning glance, Shayne smiled. "It's money," he said, "From Rad and I. After losing your memory you shouldn't have to start out with nothing. There's a fair amount in there; we make a lot of money doing what we do. It should keep you for a few months."

The other had expressed his gratitude, which was heartfelt. Shayne had departed the next morning, leaving him alone once again in a world he knew nothing about. He realized that his appearance would hinder him; that others may recognize him as Ailee had, and he needed anonymity until he knew for certain who he was and why he was back. He had taken to wearing his hair in a braid that fell to past his tailbone, and always tucked it underneath the long coat that Shayne had also given him. The coat had a large hood, and whenever he could he drew it up so that his face was hidden deep within the cowl. His hope was fragile, and he didn't really expect to find out much in Kalm. He had to start somewhere, though, and this was as good as place as any.

Especially, he had thought with a self deprecating smile, for someone like himself. After discreetly questioning the innkeeper about where he could find some information about the Meteor ordeal, pretending he was a distant foreigner, he was directed to the local library. The library, a new addition to the town and built some distance from the inn. The walk was scenic, and he found the quaint, cobblestoned village to be pleasing to the eye. The librarian had directed him to section in the back of the library without so much as a second glance. He had stared around for a moment at the shelves and shelves of books; finally, with a resignated sigh he set to work.

For five days he studied at the library from early morning to when the library closed in mid evening. His constant presence did earned him some curious glances from the librarian, but nothing was said. He read about the great SOLDIER general known as Sephiroth; of his immense power and the noticable changes that set him apart from other humans, that made him unique. He read that it was rumored that Sephiroth had gone mad in a place called Nibelheim for unknown reasons. Further reading revealed the supposed reason; The Mount Nibel Mako reactor had in fact been harboring a creature called Jenova, and it had been used to infuse humans, members of SOLDIER, with Jenova's essence. The end result were monsters; twisted, deformed, and powerful. Sephiroth had believed his mother to be Jenova, and upon discovering the true purpose of the Nibel reactor had reasoned that he had been created much in the way of the monsters. The knowledge drove him past all logic; and the Sephiroth people feared had been born.

All information past that point was merely a collection of rumors and heresay. Sephiroth had been rumored to have died; he reappeared five years later and murdered President Shinra. He liberated Jenova from the laboratories of Shinra, and began his mission for what people at the time thought was world domination. Only, it wasn't the real Sephiroth; it was a clone, and there were many of them, all created by some man named Hojo in an attempt to perfect the Jenova Strain. The real Sephiroth was frozen in elemental ice in a crater in the Gaea cliffs.

A crater ...

Information became more and more incomplete. There was a great deal about a Cetra, and Holy, and more mention of Meteor that he couldn't understand without knowing all the details. There was one name mentioned in almost all of the texts dealing with the Meteor incident, and that name was Cloud Strife. A former member of Soldier, he read, that had accompanied Sephiroth and it was rumored that Cloud had struck Sephiroth down in the Mt. Nibel reactor, effectively disabling him. Five years later, upon the "return" of Sephiroth, it was Cloud Strife who led a small band of people in an effort to thwart Sephiroth's attempts. It was also rumored that Cloud himself was one of Hojo's Sephiroth clones, one that had created an indentity and persona to call his own.

He was intrigued. It sounded as if this person knew more about Sephiroth than all these books combined. It was logical to assume that no matter where he went he likely would not find any more information than he just had; the facts had been shrouded to well. If he could speak to this Cloud Strife ...

He sighed. It was likely that his appearance would not be welcomed.

On his last night in the library, he approached the librarian. As the elderly man watched him curiously, he asked, "I'm curious to know ... would you have any ... pictures of Sephiroth?"

The librarian snorted. "Of course we do. We have one of the most famous pictures of him. Well, it's a copy, but it's still famous. Follow me."

He followed the shambling librarian to a different section of the library. The shelves in this part were filled with large folders. The librarian unerringly found the one he sought, pulled it out, and began rifling through it. "We get a lot of people wanting to look at this one," he said as he pulled it out and handed it to the other.

He felt as though he'd been hit in the stomach. Staring imperiously back at him from the photo was an exact mirror image of himself. He was clad in a black long coat with various pieces of armor attached to it. He carried an immense sword on his back. He was not alone in the picture, there was a girl and a man with wild black hair, but his attention was for the silver haired man alone.

Sephiroth.

Himself.

He mumbled a thank you to the librarian and swiftly left the building. Once safely back in his room at the inn he moved to stand before the large mirror on the back of the bathroom door. He stared at himself. Everything was undeniably the same as the man in the picture; the height, the build, the face. The eyes, however, they were different. Where Sephiroth's had glowed from his Mako infusions, and most likely because of his Jenova taint as well, his own were merely eyes. They were vibrant green but had no other glow. Despite that he could no longer deny the facts.He was Sephiroth. Undeniably, unmistakably Sephiroth.

And he was alive.

He sat down on the bed numbly. All he had learned in the last few days reeled inside his mind. He rested his head in his hands wearily, trying to drown out the confusion. He thought about his eyes, and realized what it meant. It meant that this time, in this new life, he was human. There were no strange cells in his genetics that made him other than human, no matter how slight the difference. There was no mako in his blood.

He was completely and utterly human. He took some solace in the fact, and turned his attention to other matters at hand.

Cloud Strife. Last rumored to be in residence in the city of Midgar.

He began undressing and preparing for bed. In the morning, he would leave Kalm, and begin his journey to Midgar, to Cloud Strife. He knew it was a dangerous move, but he had no other choice.

He had to know.