Author's Notes: This chapter is about.... yay! Ansem!! We all miss him and love him so much... and when was the last time I wrote for him? Like... a gazillion chapters ago? So..let me see if I can't get into the Ansem Mood...
Also, I hope those of you who have been reading don't get turned off by the fact that I split the story into two parts... It's just the title of the first part was getting old and I figured it was getting long and boring enough..but I SWEAR this one will be better!!
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The Golden Dragon
When Ansem found his own body again, and felt feeling tingle into his arms and legs again, he felt as though he was 15 years old again, growing up in the echoing chambers of Hollow Bastion, asleep in his own bed with crimson sheets about him. His studies beckoned to him from the Library with its towering books and enormous halls, and dizzying heights from the main gates. The Rising Falls roared below them, a constant sound that provided all something to listen to other than the howling wind that snapped the banners caught high in the sharply jutting towers.
He walked to the Library, finding his way to where he stashed his favorite book at the time, a miraculous legendary species of dragons that was little known to these parts. He cracked open to the page he had marked with an oak leaf. He licked his lips in the dream, and read on about the golden dragon - the supreme, daughter of Tiamat, whose beauty and ferocity were unmatched only by Tiamat herself, who lay dormant in the cusp of the universe.
Then the dream shattered like a window, revealing the endless void beyond... a terrifying emptiness that made him shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, his senses told him he was warm... but he was not wrapped in blankets, nor in a soft comfortable bed. Instead, Ansem was on a harsh stone floor. But the difference between the last waking were the significant amount of clothing he wore now.
A heavy pair of warm, soft sweatpants that were long enough to cover his feet, and a sweatshirt of the same that covered his hands. He could see nothing beyond the wall of black wood. There was a door - but it was locked when he tried it. And there was also a small, rectangular-shaped window. When he moved toward it, the angle at which he could see through it suddenly slashed his sight with light.
It hurt for several seconds, and after awhile his eyes adjusted. Beyond his little room was a startlingly crisp, clear rolling field, each hill sweeping farther into the distance than the last, toward a common, forest-lined horizon. Each detail to him seemed as clear as it would be in a painting, and like a painting in perspective the details blurred but only as much as the artist would allow. The very sky appeared to be a most iridescent, gorgeous azure blue.
He pinched himself, foolishly thinking he was dreaming. The pain felt very real and shocked his nerves as sharply as ever the dreamland beyond his window did.
Then he felt thoughts of a strange man, silver-hair, tormented aquamarine eyes. It filled him with a terrible longing... so palpable and irresistible he found himself unable to enjoy the limited landscape he saw outside.
"I think... he'll get along without me... I saved his life, he escaped through the Door... I know he was strong enough to get through to the other side. It's not as though Sephiroth is weak..." He clapped a hand over his throat, alarmed at the sound of his voice. He coughed. "What...?"
"S-SCRAWWK!!" The window was suddenly dominated by a flapping creature, screaming and harping alarm like a siren.
Stumbling on his ever-so-lengthened sweatpants the young Ansem staggered away from the window, seeing an angular, serpentine head push its way through the window, a foot in width and four feet tall. Thin, protective lids slid away from the outer eyes which flashed a bloody red. The thing turned its head to look at him and opened its mouth, uttering a high-pitched trill.
Ansem scrambled back until his shoulderblades smacked against the wall. He shivered slightly, stunned without words and without action. What was he to make of this?! Waking up in a room, with a locked door and a single open window and now a yellow-red lizard squawking at him, he was absolutely stupefied.
Finally the creature freed its crested head from the window and pulled away with a heavy roar of flapping wings. He watched the red-gold scales glitter in the light, faint sheen on the fragile membrane between the miniscule bones that made up the wings. He swallowed, rubbing his eyes before drawing his knees up to his chest.
After a moment's pause, he croaked sadly, "What in god's name has happened to me...?"
* * * * *
Waiting was a game easily gotten used to when one had nothing to do. Ansem continued to watch for the golden dragon to return, maybe hoping in vain that he could charm it into breaking down the wall so he could escape.
He was beginning to draw on the walls with a piece of chalky stone he found after the encounter with the golden dragon when the door opened. The sun had moved into his line of sight and was falling into the horizon for sunset when he heard the door clank metallically.
The sliding bar lock pushed to one side; the door opened. A woman stood there, shifting her weight to one foot while leaning her hand on her hip. Her hair was short and bristled to puncuated spikes, a pixie-esque look about her cold, important-looking face. She wore a soft leather outfit of brown, studded with bronze here and there, and a long green cloak that swept to the floor.
The woman reminded him of the plainsmen-and-women of Hollow Bastion, a distant and cold-hearted people who relied not on community but solitude to survive in the rough, unpredictable grasslands.
But this woman did not have the sun-bleached hair of the plains people. A pair of daggers dangled in sheaths at her hips.
"Get up," she ordered. "It's time to get your things together."
"My things?"
"Don't ask any questions!" She lashed forward with her arm outstretched, yanking him roughly to his feet. A measured string of curses permeated from behind the backs of her teeth as she began to herd him into the corridor. "Just do as I say."
Ansem couldn't struggle, for one thing, he was a whole foot shorter than this tall woman. For another, he had no idea where he was going but where her shoving directed him to go. The torches along the walls were lit, their warm flames vibrant, playful shadows catering to every flicker of the blaze. They marched out through a set of broad, arching doorways made of oak and stone, where a brisk breeze tousled Ansem's shoulder-length white hair.
The stone scaffolding was approximately 10 yards wide and 5 yards long, a stair case heading down toward an open street flanked by buildings for some stretch of distance. This street was crowded with people and creatures such as nothing he had ever seen before. Two-legged creatures covered in sturdy hexagonal-shaped scales, bent beneath their burdens with their two forelegs tucked up against their ribs slightly. Their narrow, wedge-shaped skulls reminded him of the golden dragon that came to his window.
In fact, after observing them for a brief inspection, he saw what appeared to be small, thin wings protruding from their backs. An instant later, he discovered himself crowded by the green wool cloak and shoved into a smokey warm space. There, the woman pushed him down into a chair and tossed him new clothes.
"Now put these on," she said. "From now on, you're going to be called Wren and you'll do everything I say. My name is Raven."
He blinked up at her, his golden-yellow eyes focusing in the darkness. It was a plain, homey room that felt as though he were no longer in a stone village but a woodland hamlet. His eyes then swiveled back to the woman called Raven who turned her back to tighten the straps of a back sack.
"Where am I?" he croaked as he stepped out of the long pants and started sliding on the warm leather pants that she had provided. "And my name is not Wren! I am Ansem."
"You are Wren. And you will find that those will not fit, since you have changed already..." She looked over at him, smirking as he held up the pants to himself.
He seemingly had grown years older in a matter of moments. How or why was beyond him. But he was himself again, his hair down to the middle of his back, his hard masculine features erasing all of his boyhood from his body. He sighed as Wren turned, handing him yet another set of clothes to put on.
"You are Wren," she said softly, turning back to the bag again. "Ansem cannot exist in this world. The name Ansem is never spoken because you are the one responsible for the death this land's native king. They say you brought unheard of evils in your wake."
Always, always, my destiny precedes me before I have a chance to know what's going on. But how...? I wasn't whole. I was just a spirit... maybe... the Heartless followed me...
Ansem bit his lip, sliding into the new pants, which were much more comfortable than the previous. He slipped on the shirt, the belt, the cloak, and hugged himself as his mind was filled with flashing, sweet warm memories of the azure-eyed beauty whom he had felt longings for older than he knew.
"I don't know what you're telling me... but there is only one thing I care about, and that is finding the person I love." He stood up, watching as the tall woman straightened, looking at him with an unnerving bright blue gaze. Her thoughts seemed to flicker in phases over her face before she smiled.
"Love is always noble... if not a little deranged at times... I will help you. But you must promise to listen and learn. You're a stranger yet in this world, but you look the type to learn quick. Do you agree?"
"I agree," Ansem replied slowly. "Only on one condition: I will obey you, but you must help me search for my companion. I will not tolerate lies and deceit. If you do, I won't hesitate to kill you..."
Raven considered this for a time... then her hand came forward, the universal sealing of a deal. "So it shall be. Now..." She turned, smiling slowly as she reached to pull a from a curtained off room. "I want to you meet someone... say hello, Vara."
Ansem watched an agile, lithe form slowly uncurl itself from a bed of what appeared to be metal. A golden wedge-shaped head turned in his direction coupled with intelligent red-rimmed eyes. A voice like soft sunlight drifted across his thoughts, like the beam of a flashlight had uncovered the cob webbed recesses of his psychic mind.
Hello, Ansem; Wren. I am Varafel, dragon of Raven. Then with a rustle of glossy wings she removed herself slowly from the bed of chains and came to stand beside Raven, flicking her whip-like tail from side to side in a friendly, amiable fashion like feline's do.
"The dragon...I saw in the tower..."
"Yes," Raven said, reaching to rub the ridge above Varafel's eye. "I sent her to look for you while I wandered in the streets. She found you in the tower... that's how I found you."
I scared you, Farafel said with a plaintive note of sadness. I am sorry. I will not frighten you again, Ansem.
"It's..quite alright," he responded, reaching back to rub the back of his neck.
The three of them set themselves at once to making plans for travel.
