Author's Notes: Sephiroth needs to be more evil. I keep thinking about how he's...going crazy... and that that should always stay..hee... And listening to Simple and Clean (Full English vers.) is always a good inspiration.

Another time, another chapter...

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Paradise

The airship, called the Paradise had a total of three levels, and fourth sub-level for boarding and storage reasons. The world passed beneath them through a screen of clouds and mist, the sun rising higher into the sky and setting again on the opposite side of the Paradise's hull. Hallways lined the port and starboard sides of the airship, which led to narrower hallways sometimes which led to cabins or the galley, which was on the mid-level.

Only two pairs of eyes watched the sky reveal its multitude of indigo blues and shimmering silk scarves of violet. Sephiroth stood on the deck, leaning against the railing with his new clothes billowing back like great dark wings in the wind. He stood against the bow, watching as the sun painted the surrounding scarves ruby with blood. Brilliant crimson leaked into his vision, fading as the golden orb of the sun sank into the distance, revealing the glittering, alien heavens above.

As this was his third world to have visited, he mused privately whether or not it was homesickness he felt twisting in his chest or a palpable loneliness which was only strengthened whenever Hikaru lingered too close, dreading the moment when Hikaru's false 'kindness' would win him over.

Then he would think of Ansem. The truth was kept from him in all subjects including Ansem's true location, Hikaru's intentions, and if he would ever chance to see him again. And if Hikaru was telling the truth... to what lengths would Sephiroth allow himself to stretch toward to get Ansem back?

His scalp tingled strangely. He pondered over it, then sighed as the sensation continued. He bent his head to the warmth, this stranger's invisible caress, and imagined that Ansem was here at last. In some shape, way or form... the beating of his heart was ever as stronge and resonant as it had been when he held him close. Ansem, Ansem... The here-and-now promised more caresses and like the bow his body veered toward the source of this new comfort, his sigh purring against his throat.

"So sad," a voice next to his ear purred drowsily. "Sad... so empty..." The words caressed like the hands that tugged gently through his hair, stopping at his lips to cup his chin and scratch a fingernail along the edge of his jaw.

His jaw muscle bulged faintly, nerve endings tickled. His eyes burned as he found himself staring into sickly, liquid-yellow eyes and inky black pupils that flashed momentarily with lightning as recognition began to seep through his drowsy thoughts.

He was cornered with his hips jammed up into V-shaped where the port and starboard railing came together. His gaze couldn't escape Hikaru's, as he was pinning him inexorably between his own lithe, firm legs and the bow.

"Why do you linger over him so much, man?" Hikaru's mouth breathed against the side of his neck. "Does he fill you with that much goodness?"

"Because I love him." Sephiroth raised his arms, trying to push his hands against Hikaru; he wouldn't budge. "I love--"

"Love me," the other man interrupted softly, punctuating his plea with a soft bite, laughing softly over the twitching skin. "Forget him!"

The roar echoed, wrathful like a demon as Sephiroth shoved the heel of his boot into Hikaru's torso and shoved him to the deck. He stepped over him, eyes blazing in the reflected starlit.

"I couldn't love you or forget Ansem under any circumstances, you wretched sniveling bastard," Sephiroth hatefully sneered. "Don't touch me like that again. How many times must I remind you?"

"You agreed to do anything I wanted, in order to get him back," Hikaru wheezed as he stood up, watching Sephiroth as the man briskly strided past toward the cabin doors. "We did make a deal, didn't we...?"

Slowed steps. Sephiroth stiffened and jerked a thumb toward the direction of the cabins. "Earn it, like everyone else. You're just going to have to work a little bit harder for it. But I doubt it will happen. Deals have no warrant over my love. I'm going to sleep, and I don't want you coming any where near my cabin door. Understand?"

Hikaru smiled in a demure fashion, tilting his head a fraction upwards and bringing it down again in a slow, understanding nod. "Don't worry," he promised softly. "I won't."

Sephiroth shut his door lightly when he came to his cabin. He strode to the window, flung the curtains open so hard that one of the rings fell loose and one edge of the curtain dangled, dragging to the floor. He cut a brooding silhouette against the moon-filled glass window. He knew he wouldn't sleep very easily tonight... would never sleep easily again, not since his first coherent thought in his mother's womb.

He remembered... drifting back into foggy memory, knowing Hikaru would keep to his promise and stay away from his room. Just moments before oblivion, the blackness of the mountains bowels, recalling his first breath straight through to his last few.

Mama, I tried so hard--

....I...just...couldn't....

Can anyone... save me? Please, god, forgive me... no holy waters can cleanse me of my sins but the Life which is the vital flow of the Planet... those burning depths could destroy a mind... but mine is already past the point of no redemption. My heart is black, burnt, empty, shrunk, withered...

You told me we would take the Planet back together. Promised me we would succeed. Then I promised you I would protect and serve and love you, always, always, forever, mother, so why can't.. you save...me...?

He remembered he was cold. Remembered the ultimate cold, the vice of death clutching at his throat and stealing his breath, his ability to think. His last pleas descended toward oblivion in silence, before he ever felt warmth again. And then, it was not the warmth of a fire or an electric heater or blanket. It was flesh, wrapping around his own, moist and tangible and beautiful. The thing that all things that have wills to live and survive which bring them to maddened thrashing, roaring and defiance at bitter Death.

He tried to remember. Chilled fingertips squeaked on the windowpane while visions and faces tumbled before his eyes, each one vying for a space in his view. He groaned aloud as he turned from the window, moving toward the bed where he crawled onto it on all fours like an exhausted animal, arms and back quivering with weariness.

"It was you," he said to no one. "It was all you... you that gave me hope... showed me light, pressed it to me stubbornly so that I might forget how darkness molested my reason. Then you're gone... then I've found you, now you're gone again." He growled against the inside of his elbow as he sprawled out onto his stomach.

"But guess what... I'm going to find you again... I won't let everything be in vain. That is... if...Hikaru will live up to his promise and help me do it." A knock announced a visitor at the door, and he stood up to answer it. It was a short, squat little man in a sailor's suit, holding up a long package, wrapped in an off-white towel and bound by string.

"Your sword, as requested, sir!"

"I didn't request a sword..." Sephiroth frowned, but the package was thrust into his arms and the short individual turned, bouncing along as he jogged to yet another errand.

Sephiroth frowned, arching a brow as he shut the door with his foot, turning simultaneously toward his bed. It was a fine weapon... he had lost his when he entered Kingdom Hearts.

It was 45 inches in length, curved in the accustomed style, with a respectable leather grip and a peculiar balance that felt natural and easy to manuever. The sheath for it was just as well, which could be tied around the waistline with black, pliant cloth.

"You know," Sephiroth said, "I don't much mind if it Hikaru sent for this for me... I'll need weapons..."

* * * * *

Varafel angled her wings, turning sharply toward the two-story houses that bent studiously on the banks of a river, as though each one were peering into the water hoping to catch sight of any fish that wanted to leap out of it. The way the sun flashed on the lazy-moving surface made her pleased; so pleased, in fact, that she shook her bristling crest of spikes and roared in happiness.

Ansem stood, wearing his cloak and clothes, trying to make sense of what Raven was teaching him.

"Think of them as bullets," she explained, holding up the various colored stones. "You can only use them once before they are useless to you until the spirits recharge them again. Each one has a color, and a little symbol on them - I will teach you symbols later, but for now just basics."

Blue stones had within them the power of cold and water. Green were curative and good. And so on and so forth...

Ansem scowled. How was he supposed to use magic like this?

Raven chewed her lip, before reaching into a pouch at her side, fishing out a number of small stones. "Here. Just use these. They're all the same, anyway. The blue ones are ice, the purple ones are for lightning, and green ones for curing. I'll explain more tomorrow."

He pocketed them, roiling with his frustration. "How does any of this help me find Sephiroth?"

"You have to defend yourself, fool," she answered coldly. "Even I don't have to explain that to you. Quickly, now, Varafel is coming."

The golden dragon swooped down, circling momentarily before slowly, with carefully measured backward swinging of wings, she set down on the river bank. With a light rolling of her shoulders, her wings flipped, inverted, to lay along the sides of her back, wingtips brushing over her jutting hip-spikes.

"What did your keen eyes see, beauty?" Raven cooed, her demeanor suddenly changing from one of annoyance to one of total patience, adoration and love.

Ansem folded his arms over his chest, watching her. Varafel had been sent to scout in the skies for any sign of something unusual, and answered with this alarming news.

There is something large and unliving in the sky, but it has smaller living things like you and friend hiding inside. It was moving very fast, northeastwardly toward Menoch. Now it's stopped.

"Something... large and unliving. It could be a plane."

"A what?"

"Nevermind. Or an airship. Don't mind that either. You obviously don't know what she means or what I think it is. If it's moving toward Menoch then maybe we should follow it. Is it nearby?"

On the ground. West. Follow me.

Ansem's stomach lurched slightly, but he steeled himself against it. Varafel was a large dragon, but not even large enough to hold even one person his size. Raven turned on her heel as the golden dragon spun about on one leg and raced forward, as fast as any land-moving animal, her long legs carrying her swiftly. Her gait reminded him of a greyhound trotting, except her tail was a greater asset for balance as she jumped to one side to avoid a cart of fruits.

He ran with them, trailing behind once or twice. Suddenly Varafel took to the air, snapping her teeth together sharply as she sprang upwards. She vanished one second; the grasslands were particularly thick here, countless crickets chirping. Raven crouched, watching the winged shape sweep her wings, then drop beyond sight again over a tall grass knoll.

Ansem continued on without her, moving slowly as he neared the top.

It is landed still.

The sleek ship's design was unbelievably modern. He saw the logo on it, which was a symbol that resembled an ankh with a sword through it. The billowing balloon was gray, the hull shining white-blue that flashed like silver. Several strategically placed propellers spun lazily to his eyes, but beneath the airship the grass swayed and quivered in the force of wind. Beneath the logo, the word Paradise was written in curving, sensual blue letters.

A shiver meandered down his spine, toying with each vertabra until he squirmed in spite of himself. He had a feeling... such a powerful, tangible feeling... a distinct knowledge that he knew, he knew Sephiroth was there.

He was walking toward the airship before he recalled making any sort of decision. He didn't care. Raven was forgotten. Varafel swooped twelve feet above him, uttering a shrill, discordant noise of alarm as she saw him making his way down the leeward side of the knoll toward the idle craft.