Author's Notes:  See chapter one for disclaimer and explanation.

Separate Destinies By Annie-chan Chapter Eight:  Touching Madness, Tasting Hatred

Riku landed on the veranda harder than he was wont to do, stumbling forward and falling to his hands and knees.  He was exhausted, worn out by a duel he had just had with his brother.  While their father was…occupied…Darius, Samara, and Cloud had taken his place as Riku's trainers.  Riku had gotten used to coming home like this at least once every three days, since his father, though not over-expectant, did keep Riku very much on his toes with training that was neither easy nor slow.  His siblings and Cloud were a little easier on him, but that spar with Darius—which Riku lost due to inexperience and relative lack of endurance—had drained him almost completely.  He had just enough energy left to get home on his own.

He sat back on his knees, sitting a little hunched, to catch his breath.  He was wearing just a pair of long shorts that went down to about his knees.  His skin was slicked with sweat, and his hair and feathers felt heavy and damp.  The wind blowing through the canyon quickly evaporated the sweat from his skin, making him shiver.

As usual, Riku had taken his daily training in the Stretch.  The Stretch was a large piece of land much like the Wilds, but it was protected by Aerie's barrier as it stretched out on both sides of the canyon adjacent to the farmlands and almost exactly opposite the main gate situated near one end of the city.  It was used for many things, such as training children and nature outings.  Ylfen loved the land, and they wanted some of the wilderness to be safe for them to wander without fear and immerse themselves in the natural flora and fauna of their region.  Because of the barrier, kitschen couldn't get in.  Wild beasts could pass through, as with the other parts of the barrier, but they were rarely a danger to ylfen unless they felt threatened.  Even hunting predators rarely attacked, intimidated by these one-winged animals that stood on two legs and wielded sharp things and bright bursts of painful light.  If an ylfe was slow and quiet and made themselves unthreatening, they may be able to approach a wild animal, but interference with the animal life wasn't often attempted, as an unspoken rule.

The Stretch was a large area, bigger than the farmlands.  It had woods and green fields, mostly, and small rivers and lakes wound through and dotted the landscape.  All the rivers eventually ended in waterfalls into the canyon, and several small niches had been carved out of the limestone base of the land by the rushing waters.  It was a beautiful, peaceful place, and Riku had grown to love the serenity it could give him, when he wasn't training there, at any rate.  He had been told that all the large cities had areas like this branching off of them, though he hadn't been outside Aerie since he came here from the Destiny Islands.

He smoothed his hair back behind his ears.  He'd like to visit other places on the One World when he got the chance.  He'd been told of other canyon cities, as well as cities in the trees and dug into mountainsides.  Apparently, ylfen liked to use the natural landscape as the foundations for their settlements.

"There you are," he heard Samara say, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at the front door.  His sister had come out to greet him.  She, Darius, and Cloud had gone home before Riku, leaving him behind and making him come at his own speed.

"Here I am," he replied, standing slowly.  "I'm sore, though."

"I'm sorry," Samara said.  "You gave Darius quite a fight, though, until you ran out of energy."

"Yeah, right," Riku muttered.  "I'm not that good yet."

"No, I'm serious," she insisted.  "He had trouble just keeping up to you, and you're slippery even when he did get you."

Riku shrugged, entering the front room.  "Where is he?"

"In his room, I imagine," she said.  "He's nursing some bad bruises.  You have a killer punch."

"I guess so," he said.  "Sora swears I almost broke his nose when he knocked my sword out of my hand on the beach once.  I wasn't about to let that scrawny little beanstalk beat me that easy."

Samara giggled, then ushered him into the hallway.  "Go clean up.  You need to relax after that duel."

Riku nodded and continued down the hall with a short wave.  He was nursing some nasty bruises, as well, and he felt grimy from the dried sweat and dirt on his skin.  He needed a bath, not to mention he had to keep one hand on the wall to avoid tripping over his own feet and falling.

He stopped a moment halfway to his room, rubbing gingerly at his back.  He had fallen flat on his back from several feet in the air near the end of the fight, and the trunk of his body was stiff and sore.

His mental training thus far had largely been detecting the presence of someone he could not yet see.  He couldn't yet differentiate between people, but he could get a faint impression of another being now without putting an effort out.  Now, someone was coming down the hall in the opposite direction that he was going.  It was Darius, Riku thought.  He continued down the hallway after arching his back briefly in an abbreviated stretch.

No footsteps could be heard beside his own.  He walked softly, and it was difficult to hear him even in the silence of the hallway.

The person coming toward him came into sight.  When Riku saw him, he froze in his tracks.

It was Sephiroth.  It had been a week since the blowup in Sephiroth's room, and Riku hadn't seen him since.  In fact, no one had seen him since.  The sight of him brought immediately to mind the mad, murderous look in his eyes when he attacked his son, and Riku felt his blood run cold.  What if he attacked again?!

He didn't dare turn and run, though the urge to bolt was welling up inside him.  If Sephiroth was mad, signs of fear may provoke him into attacking where he would otherwise be docile.  All Riku allowed himself to do was swallow hard and wait for his father to pass by.

Sephiroth was leaning slightly forward, his head down, making his hair obscure his face.  About ten feet from Riku, he suddenly stopped and straightened up, brushing his hair quickly back from his face.  His eyelids were half-closed, and he looked exhausted.  His eyes were reddened, and dark circles marred his smooth pale skin.  Otherwise, he looked very calm, almost detached.  His expression and his relaxed posture told Riku it was probably okay to approach, but he couldn't make any sudden moves.

"Father?" he asked cautiously.  "Are you okay?"  He had taken slow, careful steps forward, making sure not to meet his father's eyes, in case that was taken as an intimidation attempt.  He was aware he was acting as if he were approaching a hostile animal, but he didn't know how to handle this, so he may as well not take any risks.

Sephiroth tilted his head, regarding his son.  His expression didn't change save for a slight furrowing of his thin eyebrows, as if he was thinking.

Riku was right in front of him, now, and he hazarded a direct look into Sephiroth's face.  His father blinked at him, but otherwise made no movements.  There was still an unsettling quality to the glow in his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as intense as it was a week ago when he caught Riku intruding in his private sanctum.

"Riku…" Sephiroth finally said, as if recognizing him from some distant memory.

"Yes," Riku said, nodding slowly.  "Are you okay, Father?"  As he repeated his question, he reached up toward his father's face.  It was half a reflexive motion, and he didn't know why he was doing it.

"Father…" Sephiroth repeated, looking down as if trying to register the word.  "Oh, yes…" he muttered, nodding slightly.  His thought process seemed to be severely slowed down.  He was definitely detached.

"Yeah," Riku said just as quietly, nodding again.

Without warning, Sephiroth suddenly took a hold of Riku's hair, and before the boy could react, pulled him forward by the head.  Riku yelped and stiffened, but all Sephiroth did was lower his head down to the slightly shorter Riku's level and touch their foreheads lightly together.

Riku blinked, his heart beating quickly.  That sudden movement had scared him, and he had been afraid that Sephiroth had again determined him someone to deal with as an enemy.

For several minutes, they stood very still.  Riku felt his father probing into his mind, but he felt no aggressiveness, so he didn't resist.  Though, when Sephiroth suddenly touched the inner part of his mind, the most private and inviolable part, Riku instinctively recoiled, a pained shiver rolling through his body as he whimpered softly.  Sephiroth retreated then, and let go of his son a moment later.

"I see," Sephiroth said quietly, opening his eyes.

"What?" Riku asked, trying to calm his heart.  "You see what?"

Puzzlingly, instead of answering, Sephiroth took a hold of the hand that Riku hadn't yet lowered, and grasped one finger of his glove.  Slowly, as if peeling the wrapping off of a fragile object, he pulled the glove completely off, revealing the pale, thin hand underneath.  Still not speaking, he laid the almost girlish hand against his cheek, holding it there with his own hand.

Suddenly, exactly like when he had touched the painting in his father's room, Riku felt a flood of emotions stab into his mind.  He gasped and staggered, grabbing onto Sephiroth's upper arm to keep standing.  Mercifully, Sephiroth let him go after only a few seconds, cutting the flow of emotions off.

"G-good Lord!" Riku stammered.  "What was that?!"

Sephiroth said nothing, only turning around and going back the way he came.

"What was that?!" Riku asked again, more forcefully.  "Tell me, damn it!"

Still no answer.

"Father!" Riku said, following after him, trying a different tactic to get him speaking again.  "You never answered my question.  Are you all right?"

His father stopped again and looked back at his son, and Riku thought the dull sheen of madness retreated for a moment, replaced by unfathomable sadness.  "Please, leave me be, Son," he whispered.  Without another word, he turned his back on Riku again and continued walking.

"Wait!" Riku cried, disturbed by the sudden change in Sephiroth's eyes.  "Father—!"  As he grabbed his father's elbow to hold him back, there was abruptly nothing to grab.  Sephiroth had disappeared, teleporting back to his sanctuary.

"Oh, Father," Riku murmured, as if Sephiroth could hear him.  That look in his eyes had troubled him even more than the emotions pouring into his mind.  His right hand was on his heart in a loose fist, feeling the strong beat through the wall of his skin, muscle, and bone.  "I'm here if you need me.  Always."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few days later…

"Riku, are you okay?" came Samara's voice through his door.  "You've been so pensive the last few days."

"I'm fine," Riku answered.  He was sitting on his unmade bed, his back against the wall.  A book was in his hands, and though he had been trying to read it to get his mind off of things, he was largely ignoring it.

There was a pause.  "May I come in?" his sister finally asked.

"Go ahead," he said.

Samara came through the door, closing it again behind her.  "Is there something wrong?" she asked.  "Something on your mind?  You can discuss it with me or our brother whenever you'd like, you know."

"I know," Riku nodded.  He sighed.  "I just wanted some time to myself, that's all."

"I don't think that's all," Samara said, sitting down next to him.

Riku didn't answer.

"Something's troubling you," she said, "and I want to know what.  If you just bottle it up like this, it'll just hurt more in the future.  I won't force you to talk, but those are my thoughts on the subject."

He sighed deeply, closing the book and putting it to one side.  "Samara, tell me about our father."

She blinked, surprised.  "What do you mean?"

"What kind of man is he?" Riku asked.  "What has happened to him?"

"I thought Darius and I already explained that as best we could," Samara said slowly.

"I know," he nodded.  "What I mean is…" he sighed again "…God, I don't know.  I don't even know what I'm asking right now."

"Has something happened?" she asked.

"I feel like my head is on backwards," he said, rubbing at his eyes as if sleepy.  "I feel like I'm floating in total darkness.  You know what I mean?"

"I think so, yes," she nodded.  "Everyone feels like that at one time or another, I guess."

Again, he sighed.  "I'm so confused…I don't know what to think of him.  I've seen so many sides of him, and I can't decide for the life of me which is the real him."

"I don't think any side of him is 'the real him'," Samara said.  "He has so many facets to himself, and his mood and personality can change in the blink of an eye, even when he's 'sane'.  It's hard to say which is his 'normal' self."

"What was he like when your mother was still alive?" Riku asked after another pause.

"Before Mother died?" she asked, thinking.  "He had none of the mood swings that he's prone to now.  He had strong emotions, but he knew how to deal with them in a healthy way.  I don't remember him having any mental breakdowns before Mother died.  He seemed to be an aloof and uncaring man to people who didn't know him, but to those he cared about, he was very warm and open.  Killing was, to him, uncivilized, so he only did so when absolutely necessary, and he never brought home anything from his kills as trophies.  He saw that as disrespectful to the life he had just ended.  Even kitschen rarely met their deaths at his hands."

"He said something similar to me in the Destiny Islands," Riku said.  "I had asked why he hadn't just killed my mother once I was born and brought me back with him if it hurt so much to leave me with her.  He said that he hated killing, though he had killed many in his lifetime."

"Those many that he killed," Samara said slowly, "have almost all been since Mother died.  A fight with him is more dangerous, not only because of his massive power, but because he's less careful in battle now.  He may execute an attack without even thinking that it may be too much for his opponent to handle if hit.  Darius and I attend your training sessions with him not just to watch, but to make sure you aren't overwhelmed and hurt.  He cares a lot about you, but me may grow careless if he doesn't pay attention."

"What about the humans he killed?" Riku asked.  "He said he's killed humans as well."

"I honestly don't know," Samara answered.  "Darius and I know little of what he does when he goes to the Many Worlds.  All we know is what he tells us.  You'll want to ask him for an explanation, but it wouldn't be a good idea until he's back to normal."

Riku nodded.

"The kitschen get most of his hate," Samara said softly.  "He used to pay them little heed unless he encountered some in the Wilds, but now he deliberately hunts them down."

"I understand," Riku said.  "It's a never-ending revenge for torturing and murdering his soulmate."

"Besides his insanity," Samara continued, "his loathing for the kitschen has shaped his current self more than anything else."  She suddenly stood.  "There's something I would like to show you, Riku," she said.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just come see," she told him, going toward the door.  "It may help you understand a little of what's going on in his head."

"Okay," Riku said, then stood up and followed her.

Several doors down the hallway, she stopped.  "This may surprise you," she warned.  "Just don't inhale too deeply."  She grasped the doorknob and turned it.  It opened with a creak, as if it wasn't used often.

Puzzled at her last comment, Riku stepped inside the dark room.  He immediately understood when the smell of dead matter and dried blood hit his nostrils, causing him to cover his mouth and nose in disgust.

At Samara's command, the lamps in the room sprang to life, lighting the place up.  It looked like a storage room, shelves lining the walls from ceiling to floor.  On the shelves were the sources of the smell.  Packed onto the shelves were scores of smallish skulls, the black holes of their eyes seeming to stare at him.  Scores more littered the floor in a disorganized heap, too many to all go on the shelves on the walls.  None were the bleached white that you see in museum skeletons.  They were stained deep red and brown, and he knew immediately that they hadn't been washed once denuded of flesh.  They were coated with dried blood.  Black patches could be seen on some, and he guessed that they were strips of tissue that hadn't completely come off.

"Oh, my God…" Riku muttered, feeling bile rise in his throat.

"Every year," Samara explained softly, "on the anniversary of her death, he catches and kills a kitsche and brings its head back here.  He would rather hunt them all down and exterminate their whole species, but ylfe creed declares it against the law to interfere with the natural order of things.  So, he must restrain himself and be more precise in his revenge."

Riku slowly knelt down near the pile of skulls and reached for the nearest one.  When he touched it, he had a vision of his father, his clothes stained with much blood, ripping the head off of an unrecognizable dead thing, stripping all flesh from the bone, including the inside of the mouth, digging the eyes out of the sockets and the brain out through the hole for the spinal cord, and then leaving the rest of the body parts and taking the skull with him as he leaves.

He jerked his hand back, horrified.  He felt a cold, sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, and he backed slowly away, feeling like he was about to throw up.

"I'm sorry for showing you this, Riku," Samara said sadly as he stumbled back up to his feet, "but you have a right to know."

"He really is mad, isn't he…?" Riku asked, shivering.

Samara nodded.

"Hey," Darius said, poking his head in the room.  "What are you two doing in here?"

"I'm showing it to Riku so he has a better understanding of Father," Samara said, ushering her little brother out the door and into the hall.  "Or, at least one side of him."  She made the lamps go out and closed the door.

"Are you okay, Riku?" Darius asked.  "You look green."

"I'm fine," Riku said a little hoarsely.  "I just need cold water.  That helps an upset stomach."

Darius nodded, then muttered something under his breath too quietly for Riku to catch.  The smell of blood and death suddenly vanished from the air.  A deodorizing spell.

"I was down near the end of the hall a few minutes ago," Darius said, "and I heard something through the door to the red rooms."  Sephiroth's bedroom and the adjacent sitting room were often referred to as "the red rooms".

"What was it?" Riku asked.

"Well…" Darius said, "…I guess there's no other way to accurately describe it.  Father appears to be having a psychotic episode."

"He what?!" Riku gasped, the words sending a chill down his spine.  "What did you hear?!"

"It was this long, animal-like scream," Darius said slowly.  "It sometimes happens during his crazy spells, though it's much rarer than the other ways his madness tends to manifest itself.  He's usually quiet and disconnected, almost catatonic sometimes."

"Let's hope he stays in those rooms," Samara said.  "He'll be very dangerous if he comes out before he's calmed down."

"What the hell are you two talking about?!" Riku cried, disturbed by the casual way they seemed to be taking this.  "Darius, you did nothing?!  What if he hurts himself?!  What if he dies because no one went to check on him?!"

"Riku, walking into those rooms when he's sane is bad enough," Darius explained.  "Going in when he's in one of his spells is even worse, as you saw for yourself.  Going in when he's like this is like kicking a bear cub in front of its mother!  If I had checked on him, I'd probably be dead right now!"

"This sounds horrible, I know," Samara said, "but death will be a mercy to him, if it comes to that."

Riku was shaking, his rage tight in his chest.  He wanted to scream so badly, but instead, he turned toward the end of the hallway and took off.

"Riku, wait!" Darius cried, grabbing his wrist and halting his progress.

"Let me go!" Riku roared, and he punched Darius hard enough to make him reel backwards before he really knew what he was doing.  Without waiting a second, he continued down the hallway.

"Father!" he cried, bursting through the doors to the sitting room.  He stopped dead in his tracks when a shriek suddenly came from the open doors to the bedroom.  It was long and agonized, as if had been torn from the deepest pit in the deepest part of Hell, uttered by the worst of the damned in their eternal torment.  Fear flooded Riku's being, and he couldn't move or speak for several moments after that cry had faded into an eerie silence.  Finally, he was able to quell his trembling.

"Riku!" Darius said in an urgent whisper.  He and Samara were in the doorway.  "Get back here!  Do you want to die?!"

Riku ignored him and went toward the bedroom doors.

"Riku!" Darius and Samara hissed at the same time, but Riku paid them no heed.  Steeling himself, he stepped through the double doors.

His father was sprawled out on the bed, half-facedown, his long hair strewn everywhere.  Even from across the room, Riku could see he was shaking badly, and he twitched every few seconds, as if electricity was being passed through him at regular intervals.  Riku couldn't see his face, but the long, slow, quivering breathing suggested that he was crying.

His danger sense screaming, Riku went forward, his need to see if Sephiroth was all right outdoing his fear.  When he was a few feet from the bed, Sephiroth's body suddenly spasmed violently, making him roll over onto his back with one jerk.  He gave a hoarse yell, not nearly as bone-shattering as the scream he had given earlier, but still enough to chill Riku's blood.  He was indeed crying, his face wet with tears.

Sephiroth saw Riku.

"You…" Sephiroth said, his voice low and dangerous.  He rolled back over to his front and pushed himself up, his entire body as tense as a spring.  "You…you…you!"

"Father, please," Riku said, trying to keep his voice steady.  "Please, calm down.  I only wanted to check on—"

Sephiroth suddenly pounced, and Riku froze, his voice choked off.  However, his father went past him.  Before Riku could turn around to see what the deal was, the doors slammed shut.  Sephiroth had cut off Riku's escape route.  Even if he could get to the doors, Sephiroth would be on him before he could get them open.

"F-Father…?" Riku asked, getting more jumpy with every second.

"I told you to stay out of here!" Sephiroth hissed, his eyes flashing.  Every part of him was shaking in rage, and Riku thought he saw a streak of red flicker through his father's eyes.

"I wanted to check on you!" Riku cried, trying to explain himself.  "I didn't know what you were doing!  I was afraid you would hurt yourself!"  Sephiroth was advancing on him, and all Riku could bring himself to do was lurch back a few steps.  He was suddenly dealt a blow to the side of his face hard enough to whip his head around.  Pain flared up in his neck from being turned almost too far, and he staggered backward and fell to the ground, stunned.

Someone was upon him, and he could feel their hot, rabid breath against his skin.  A hard hand clamped around his throat and pulled him up, squeezing his air passage nearly shut.

"You die," Sephiroth said quietly, but with soul-deep fury behind those words.  He picked his youngest child up like he weighed nothing and let him dangle by his neck.

"N…o…" Riku choked, unable to breathe.  He clawed at the fingers squeezing the life out of him, but they didn't budge.  Black spots were appearing in his vision, and his whole body was begging for oxygen.  Having no other options available, he kicked out hard.  His foot connected with his father's stomach.  Sephiroth dropped Riku and fell back with a pained yell.  Riku landed more or less on his feet, but couldn't support himself and fell to the floor, gasping and coughing like he had when his father had rescued him from drowning.

Sephiroth came forward again, bloody murder in his eyes.  He grabbed Riku by the collar and slammed him hard against the nearby wall.  Riku almost lost consciousness, but fought it hard, knowing that it would mean his death if he gave in.

"So, you think you can fight back, huh?" Sephiroth growled.  "You think you can desecrate her memory and then try to harm me?  Me?!"

"I-I was only worried about you!" Riku gritted, his whole body hurting.  "I never meant any harm!  Please, Father, let me go!"

"Shut up!" Sephiroth roared, giving Riku a shake.

"Father, stop!" a terrified voice shrieked.  It was Samara.  She and Darius had heard the commotion and come in unnoticed.  Forbidden to enter or not, they couldn't just let their little brother die at the hands of their maddened father.

"Don't come any closer, brat!" Sephiroth warned.  "If you take one step further, I'll just kill him all the quicker!"  When he looked back at Riku, their gazes met directly.  They were both looking straight into each other's eyes.

Both men stilled abruptly.

Riku gasped.  It was like he was being drawn swiftly down a long, wide tunnel with images plastered on every inch of it.  These were images of his father's early life, he realized with no small jolt of surprise.  It felt like his life was flashing before his eyes, only it wasn't his own life he was seeing.  He felt a confused montage of emotions and thoughts, ranging from a child's wonder to an adolescent's overconfidence to the highs and lows of a young adult experimenting with love and sex.

When he stopped, he found himself outside in the Stretch, all trace of pain in his body gone.  In fact, he couldn't feel anything.  There were two people nearby.

"Hey!" he cried, going toward them.  They didn't even look at him.  "HEY!"  When he got closer, he recognized them.

It was Sephiroth and Wenna!

My God, Riku thought.  This is a vision.  I'm not really here.  Of course they can't hear me.

The two seemed to be seeing each other for the first time.  They were standing a few feet apart, and Wenna was smiling expectedly at Sephiroth, as if waiting for him to realize something.  Sephiroth looked no younger than he did at present, but there was a profound difference in his eyes.  They were clearer, brighter, and centuries less pained.

"You're my…!" Sephiroth finally managed to say, getting over his shock.

Wenna laughed gaily and closed the gap between them, wrapping her slender arms around his waist.  As Sephiroth returned the embrace, Riku felt love and joy wash over him, the two most prominent emotions the two were feeling.

"Their first meeting," Riku murmured to himself, watching the two.  It was odd seeing his father dressed in something that was not predominantly black.  He looked good in light blue, actually.

The scene suddenly dissolved into blackness, and Riku felt propelled inexorably forward, and he was somewhere else before he could even gasp in surprise.

He was in Sephiroth and Wenna's bedroom.  An ylfe woman that Riku had never seen before was busying herself with folding what looked like recently washed bed sheets.  Wenna was in the bed, looking completely worn out, propped up against her mate, who sat beside her on top of the bedclothes.  Sephiroth looked about as tired as Wenna, but Riku felt pride, happiness, and awe emanating from him.  He felt it from both of them, actually.  As he got closer, he saw why.  A little baby lay in Wenna's arms, nursing hungrily at one of her breasts, making little cooing noises at it suckled.  The baby had pale blond hair and a tiny wing that was an exact copy of Sephiroth's.

"Darius," Riku said, feeling a soft smile curve his lips.  Ylfe children were so rare, so precious, and he knew both parents would give their lives without a second thought to protect this fragile little creature.

The vision abruptly faded out to be replaced by a similar one.  Sephiroth and Wenna were in much the same position, but this time, an adult Darius was sitting next to them on the bed, cradling an almost identical baby with a medium-blue wing in his arms.  This was shortly after Samara's birth.

"She's so delicate," Darius whispered, and Riku could feel the same wonder coming from him as he felt from the parents.  He looked like he had never seen a baby close up, much less held one.  Given the reproductive rate of his people, that probably wasn't very far off from the truth.

Riku felt his heart ache.  There was no way his mother had been even remotely this loving and gentle with him when he had been born.  He was almost certain that he had been left entirely to the nurses to take care of while his mother recovered as quickly as possible so she could get out of that hospital.  Riku hated to admit it, but he was jealous of the close family atmosphere his siblings had grown up in.

Everything blurred around him, and he felt himself drawn down another long tunnel of images and feelings.  It felt like an invisible hand had wrapped around him and was pulling him along.  The images went by so fast that he could hardly recognize them as the peaceful, idyllic years between then and…and…

He stopped like he had slammed into a cement wall, and before he could see what was around him, he felt a potent mix of horror and rage envelop him, and he clamped his hands over his ears and sank to his knees, crying out.  He felt a creeping madness seeping into him, and all he could do was hunker down and pray for it to pass.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Riku regained his senses, and he looked up.  What he saw sickened and horrified him so much, he couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away.  Twisted and mangled kitsche corpses were scattered about, and in the middle of it all knelt his father.  Clutched in his arms was a bloody, mutilated Wenna, the beautiful blue of her wing turned into a disgusting red-purple with her blood.  The arm nearest Riku was barely recognizable as an arm, large chunks of flesh missing.  Riku could see bone showing through, and the arm was lying dead at her side.

"Oh…" Riku breathed, unable to say anything else.  Even from his distance, he saw the light of life drain from her eyes, and he felt her soul scream in dismay and anger as it left the mortal plane, left her mate behind to suffer the pain of living.

Sephiroth gave a ragged sob, then let loose a piercing, anguished howl, identical to the scream Riku had heard earlier in the sitting room.  After that one shriek, he fell to the ground in a dead faint, still clutching Wenna's body.

An earsplitting shattering filled Riku's ears, and the scene around him cracked and broke into millions of pieces.  He felt himself falling, spinning downward into a vortex of grief and insanity and hate.  Half his soul had been ripped away, leaving a gaping, open wound that would never close, only fester and grow worse with each passing day, each passing hour, each passing minute.

Riku screamed, thrashing about in agony, tearing at his hair as if trying to dig down to his brain, to gouge out the parts that stored memory and emotion…he couldn't think he couldn't feel he was going crazy

He slammed back into his body with a jerk, and he was suddenly aware again of his injuries.  Compared to the mental and emotional torments he had just experienced, however, the physical pain he felt was barely enough to be noticed.

"Riku!" his brother Darius cried, bending over him as he lay half-sitting against the wall.  "Are you all right?!"  Samara was right there with him, wringing her small hands in anxiety.

"W-what h-happened…?" Riku stammered, shaking like a leaf in a strong wind.  He finally realized that his father was in his arms, completely unconscious.  His head was against Riku's chest, almost on top of the hand that was still clutching his shirt.

"You two collapsed after freezing up," Samara explained, her normally bubbly voice weak and tremulous with fear.  "We couldn't wake either of you up, no matter what we did.  We didn't know what to do!"  She was on the verge of tears.

Darius didn't look much better, his skin white as paper.  As he spoke, it was clear he was trying very hard to sound calm.  "Riku, what happened?"

Riku's eyes grew suddenly painful as everything he had seen and felt rushed up upon him.  He didn't answer his brother's question, instead dissolving into fitful sobbing, tears streaming down his face and neck.  Stunned, his brother and sister could do nothing but try to comfort him.

Riku shied away from them, wishing desperately that they would leave him to his grief.  He had touched real madness and tasted true hatred.  He would never be the same again…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You're a psychic!" Darius said, his eyes wide.  "I don't believe it!"  Riku had just told them, in a horribly flat monotone, what he had seen and felt after collapsing.  At the moment, Sephiroth was lying on his back in the bed, still unconscious, and the three of them were sitting around him on the large mattress.

"Hm?" Riku said, looking up from his father's face.

"You're a psychic," Samara repeated.  "Most of your power comes not from a magic store within your spirit or from manipulating the magic surrounding you, like with most ylfen, but from the strength and potency of your mind.  You can do many things at will that other ylfen have to cast a spell for, and often a difficult spell at that.  Psychics are so rare than many people don't believe they exist."

"The first signs of psychic powers are usually telepathic, like empathy and a seeing ability," Darius continued.  "You can feel others' emotions as well as see the past and future in dreamlike visions.  And, as you demonstrated, that seeing ability also allows you to look directly into others' minds.  After that, you develop telekinetic powers, and can make things move with your thoughts as well as be able to cause and manipulate bursts of non-magic energy."

"If they're so rare," Riku asked, letting this sink in, "how do you know so much about them?"  As strange as it sounded, this made perfect sense, considering his recent experiences with emotions and visions.

"Darius is fascinated with psychics," Samara explained.  "He's read at least three times every book about them he can find."

"They happen completely randomly, and genetics and heredity plays no part," Darius muttered to himself.  "I can't believe it!  A psychic!"

"C-can I learn to control these powers?" Riku asked, a feeling of dread washing over him.  He was horrified with the idea of constantly hearing others thoughts and feeling their emotions, unable to tell which are his own and which come from outside.

"Yes," Darius nodded, to his great relief.  "You can learn to use your empathy and telepathy only when you want to, so you're not drowning in a sea of other people's thoughts and feelings.  I think telekinetic powers are only brought about by a conscious effort, too, so those probably won't be a problem for you to control."  He rubbed his chin.  "Although, being a seer is never a predictable thing, if what I read is right.  Looking into others' minds is always voluntary on your part, but not the rest.  Visions of the past and future sneak up on you without warning and without pattern, and you can't control what you see.  I read that psychics often need strong emotional support from friends and family to keep these sometimes disturbing visions from breaking them.  If the seer has their soulmate, it's supposedly easier to bear, as they can depend on them to help out."

"I see," Riku said softly, returning his gaze to Sephiroth's still face.

After a long silence, Samara spoke.  "We should go," she said.  "I don't want to be here when he wakes up.  He's had a rough day already, and we're in his inner sanctum."

"You two can go if you want," Riku said slowly.  "I'm staying right here."

"Riku, he may attack you again," Darius warned.  "You're skating on very thin ice here.  We don't want him to kill you, and that's what he may try again."

"I don't care," Riku said softly.

Nothing they could say would move Riku to reconsider, so Darius and Samara reluctantly left their little brother alone with their father.  They closed the doors behind them, and the click of the latches were loud in the silence.

Riku smoothed stray strands of hair away from Sephiroth's face, his touch gentle.  He had seen into Sephiroth's mind, into his heart and soul, and he understood him more than anyone else ever had or ever will.  Anyone except Wenna.

Taking one of his father's slack hands, he spoke softly, tears stinging his eyes again.  "I'll help you, Father," he whispered.  "I'll do whatever you want or need to help you get better.  I swear it on my life."

To be continued…

Author's Notes:  Hoo-wee.  This chapter got a lot longer than I expected.  I thought it was gonna be kinda short, but it took off on its own.  If I had written chapter seven and this as one chapter, as I originally planned, can you imagine how long that would have been?  Eek.  I think the first scene of this chapter is kinda…iffy.  I wrote it as the TV was on, so I was distracted, but I could see no way to revise it without making it worse.  I hope I didn't turn you guys off with it, and that this is just another case of my harshest critic being myself.  ^_^;;  Please, don't think of Darius and Samara as callous for not wanting to check on their father as he suffered.  This has just happened too many times before, and they've tried everything.  All they can do now is just let him scream it out and hopefully return to normal in a few days, or at least go back to the catatonic type of madness that he usually showed during his spells.  Besides, you saw how Sephiroth was when Riku entered his bedroom for a second time.  He seriously wanted to kill his son.  And, like Samara said, death will be a mercy for Sephiroth after all the things he's been through.  Oh, and if any of you drew any parallels, yes, I was influenced by Hitomi's visions from Tenkû no Escaflowne as I was writing Riku's experience with Sephiroth's memories.  Anyway, I hope this chapter turned out all right.  Let me know what you think in a review or an email to mangareader@hotmail.com, onegai shimasu!