FINAL FANTASY: POINT OF INTERSECTION
BOOK 1: THE APPROACHING STORM


CHAPTER 15

"Any change?" Cloud asked softly.

His uncertain gaze passed from his wife's worried face to that of the young woman lying unconscious in bed. Ellone had not stirred once since collapsing in the common room of the inn three days ago, and her normally healthy, attractive features had grown pale and drawn as time had worn inevitably on and she had failed to wake. It was like something was devouring her from within.

The former mercenary turned monster hunter glanced to the other side of the bed for a moment, where Vincent sat implacably in grim silence, his eyes fixed intently on the young woman he had sworn to protect as though he could somehow bring her back by sheer force of will alone. His expression belied nothing of what he might have been feeling in that moment, his face hardened into the stoic mask Cloud had come to know so well during their travels together.

Silence hung heavily in the air here in the upstairs guest room, cloaking everything in a deep blanket of uneasy quiet save for the soft crackling of the fire burning low in the nearby hearth. Ellone lay unmoving beneath the blue and white patterned blankets, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly with each barely perceptible inhalation. Wondering if there was anything more he and the others could do to bring her out of her unnatural slumber, Cloud studied the young woman thoughtfully for a long moment.

Tifa's hand found his own and clasped it worriedly. "Nothing, Cloud. I've been trying everything I can think of, but it's no use."

"Damn," the blond warrior sighed wearily. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"I don't know. Dr. Matheson came by again today, but he doesn't have any more idea of what's happened to Elle than I do."

Cloud nodded. Gilbert Matheson—a balding, crotchety old fellow with a bushy gray moustache and a penetrating glare—was the town physician, and although the former mercenary bore little love for doctors and scientists, he knew the man was good at what he did. Matheson had actually urged Cloud and Tifa to let him take Elle to the clinic for observation and treatment, but Tif, feeling that comfortable surroundings and company should be a part of the girl's healing process, would have none of it. Cloud was well aware of the growing friendship between his wife and Ellone and understood why Tifa, despite her limited medical expertise, would want Elle to stay where she was.

In any case, the former mercenary wasn't at all sure there was anyone who could help Ellone. Something about this whole thing didn't seem right, although Cloud could not say quite how, only that an unshakable sense of unease had settled within his gut ever since Vincent had first found the young woman and brought her back here. The blond warrior was willing to bet there was more to her and her presence in this place than just a lost traveler trying to find her way home.

"She grows cold," Vincent murmured grimly, drawing Cloud from his thoughts.

Joining the other man at Ellone's bedside, Cloud gently took the young woman's wrist for a moment. Beneath his fingers, her skin felt as cold and clammy as damp clay, and her pulse was a faint pressure he could just barely detect. What was going on here? She couldn't have much longer, Cloud knew, and one glance at Vincent told him his friend clearly understood that same grim reality.

Cloud frowned in puzzlement as he laid Elle's hand carefully back upon the blankets. "This can't be natural. There's no way."

"What are you saying?" Tifa pondered aloud. "Something did this to her?"

He nodded. "That's what it seems like."

"But how? Nobody was near her except Vincent when she fainted."

"I don't know," Cloud sighed pensively, "but I don't think she's told us everything about where she came from and what's been happening to her."

His wife immediately fixed him with one of her patented glares, those soft brown eyes of hers hardening ever so slightly as she folded her arms beneath her breasts. "Would you? She's only known us for a week, Cloud. You can't expect her to be that open in such a short time."

Tifa was right, of course, just as Cloud knew she would be. His wife always was, or at least she always seemed to be. Cloud had decided long ago that women were a rather strange species to begin with, and living with Tifa for the past four years had brought him to the inevitable and undoubtedly true conclusion that he would never fully understand them. He seriously doubted that any man could.

Brushing his musings aside, Cloud brought his attention back to the problem at hand. Tif had told him the other night exactly what had happened over at the inn, and the more he thought about it, the more unsettled he became. The fact that Ellone had been gazing at Aeris' portrait when she collapsed bothered him more than a little. It might have just been curiosity on her part, since the Cetra girl had become something of an icon in the days after Meteor, but Cloud's instincts suggested otherwise, and thinking of Aeris brought back painful memories he had hoped never to revisit again.

He had almost killed her, after all, and had watched helplessly as she had died in front of him.

Sephiroth's mocking stare, with its cold green eyes—twisted, malicious reflections of Aeris' kind, emerald orbs—still haunted his dreams to this day. Cloud would never forget that long, agonizing moment for as long as he lived, and his guilt and shame would follow him to his grave. He could have stopped it had he been stronger or gotten there sooner, but Sephiroth had beaten him. Even now, Cloud could hear in his mind the man's cold laughter, taunting him with reminders of his weakness and his failure to protect her, his inability to save her.

Just as you cannot save this girl, either, Cloud. Still weak, still the puppet. Will you ever learn?

Get out of my head, damn you! Get out! Just leave me the hell alone, you sick murdering bastard! You're dead, remember?

But not forgotten. Not now, not ever…

Shaking off those disturbing thoughts, Cloud grimaced. "I understand that, Tif, it's just—"

He froze as a memory suddenly surfaced in his mind, not of Aeris and her untimely death but of something much more recent, something he had all but forgotten in the midst of more pressing concerns. A reluctant promise made to him in the chill shadows of an icy cave, crimson eyes gazing coldly back at him, bereft of hope, filled with weariness, doubt, and disgust.

By letting me live, you have placed me in your debt. Call upon me when you have need.

Could she whose life he had spared possibly save Elle? Did she have that kind of power? Cloud knew little of her race save what his own experiences with them had taught him, but he had no other choice but to try. Whether she would actually agree to help him was another matter, but somehow he knew she would pay back her debt, if for no other reason than to be done with him and lift a burden she despised yet which her warped principles would nevertheless compel her to honor.

"Cloud? Are you alright?" Tifa's worried voice brought the blond warrior abruptly back to the present.

"I think I know someone who might help Ellone," he explained, hurrying to the door, "but you'll have to trust me on this, alright?"

Tifa frowned in puzzlement. 'What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"I don't have time to explain, Tif. Just call me on the PHS if there's any change in Elle's condition. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Drawing his wife close for a moment, Cloud gently touched his lips to hers for a moment, savoring their sweet texture, before finally stepping away. Was he doing the right thing? For a moment he considered telling Tif what he was planning, exactly who he was going to try and find out there somewhere in the icy bluffs beyond the snowfields, but the sense of time slipping inexorably away from him like sand between his fingers kept him from doing so. With every passing moment, Elle slipped further away, bound in that unnatural coma by whatever demons were plaguing her.

Tifa gazed quietly up at him, her brown eyes filled with concern. "Please be careful, Cloud."

"I will," he assured her, nodding firmly.

Moments later he was hurrying out of the house and into the stable, saddling Ayla and leading the gold-feathered chocobo outside. Snow began to fall in light flurries as he rode his mount at a brisk trot down the streets toward the western end of town, passing cars and other chocobo riders as he went, and within minutes he left the settlement behind and let Ayla run swiftly into the frigid night.

A puff of wind brushed lightly across his cheeks in an icy caress, reddening the skin with cold in spite of his warm cloak and scarf. Cloud's breath steamed in the chill air as he made his way silently through the darkened woods, his only illumination the soft glow of moonlight sifting down through the branches. Aside from the soft crunching of his boots in the snow and the faint whisper of his breath, the forest lay eerily quiet, wrapped in a hush of dark, fearful anticipation.

She was out here somewhere, he knew. Cloud wondered if she knew he was coming or why he was so desperately trying to find her. He had tethered Ayla to a tree a few dozen yards back, preferring to travel the rest of the way on foot to where he thought he would find the one he sought. She might have left, perhaps to return to the Great Glacier where the rest of her kind lived, but somehow Cloud didn't think that was the case. From what he knew of her, she didn't seem to have had much to go home to.

The cave mouth yawned blackly not fifty feet away, half hidden in a tangled mass of vines and shrubs. Crouching furtively behind a spindly evergreen tree, its needles draped in heavy clumps of fresh snow, Cloud watched the dark opening intently, one gloved hand resting idly against the damp, rough trunk of the evergreen. Fragrant scents of pine and spruce hung quietly in the cold air.

"So you have returned, warrior," a familiar, husky voice whispered softly.

Cloud turned warily to find a lithe, icy figure moving languorously out from a copse of nearby firs, her bare feet making almost no sound as she stepped lightly across the snow. Clad only in her sleeveless blue undergarment, the ice witch stopped just a few yards away, her blood red eyes revealing little of what she might have been thinking.

"I need your help, Iseldra," Cloud answered. "I have a friend, back in town, and she's trapped in some sort of coma and can't wake up."

The frost maiden sniffed disdainfully. "It is no concern of mine."

"This thing isn't natural, and we've already tried everything we can think of to wake her! Nothing else has worked, and she's slipping further away with every minute that passes!"

"Then I suggest you resign yourself to her inevitable loss, warrior," Iseldra replied coldly, "for there is little else you can do now."

Cloud frowned angrily. "You've got to help her. No one else can."

"What makes you think I can save her?" the ice witch snapped irritably. "I am no physician, warrior. You know that well enough."

"At least take a look at her! You may not be a doctor, but you do know a bit about magic."

Brushing a few errant strands of long, pale blue hair from her face, the frost maiden shrugged indifferently. "I told you before. It does not concern me."

Cloud grimaced. He had guessed she would react like this. Iseldra had made herself quite clear, but maybe there was yet one other way that Cloud could convince her to help. Maybe she was testing him, wanting to see if he remembered the debt she owed him. It would be like her to try and get out of it if she could, but he wasn't about to let that happen.

"Iseldra, you told me once that if I had need, I could call upon you for help," Cloud explained quietly. "You said you were in my debt. I'm holding you to that promise."

For a moment, the ice witch said nothing, her full, dark blue lips drawn slightly downward in distaste. Her crimson irises met his eyes in an almost defiant stare, perhaps to preserve her pride in the face of this detestable obligation she could no longer avoid.

Iseldra sighed reluctantly. "Very well. Take me to her."

Nodding in relief, Cloud led her back to where his chocobo was tethered. Ayla warked cheerily, obviously pleased to see him, but then shied nervously away as Iseldra came into view. Cloud couldn't blame the bird for being uneasy. He whispered a few soothing words into her ear and stroked her feathers a bit as the ice witch climbed gracefully into the saddle.

Cloud swung atop the bird a moment later, and as he took the reins in hand he felt soft, cool arms wrap snugly around his waist. The chill of Iseldra's flesh sent an icy shiver through his body, yet at the same time it felt oddly arousing. Once again he began to wonder if bringing her back with him was such a good idea, but he knew he really had no choice if she could possibly save Ellone.

From behind him, Iseldra's silky voice whispered teasingly in his ear. "Do you find my presence discomfiting, warrior?"

"I'll manage," he grunted sourly.

Trying without much success to ignore the softness of the icy female's soft, sensuous body pressing ever so lightly against his back, Cloud tugged on the reins to get Ayla moving. The gold-feathered chocobo sped through the night, weaving in and out of the labyrinthine maze of trees whose gaunt, leafless skeletons reached with empty limbs toward the moonless sky. Only the evergreens bore any sign of life, little clusters of greenery surrounded by the stark remnants of their deciduous cousins.

That strange, eerie quiet still lay over the wilderness like a shroud, as though the animal and monster life that normally filled this place had somehow been silenced. But by what? Cloud hadn't wanted to worry Tifa, so he hadn't told her, but lately on his patrols he'd begun to find the bloodied remains of animals and even monsters, all savagely torn apart. Had another, more dangerous monster, migrated here from somewhere? Or was it something else altogether?

Cloud's instincts suggested the latter.

So far, he had found only a few of these bodies, or what was left of them. What bothered him most was that from the pattern of those grisly discoveries, Cloud had deduced that whatever was out here was slowly making its way eastward. That would put it uncomfortably close to town if this kept up for much longer. It didn't seem to be moving very quickly, though, but rather lingering in this area. Was it searching for something? Or just preying off the wildlife? Cloud couldn't be sure, but what chilled him most was that the remains he'd found hadn't shown any signs of being fed upon by anything other than scavengers. Whatever was out here, it wasn't looking for food.

It was killing simply because it could.

Tifa glanced at her watch for perhaps the hundredth time since her husband had left. He had been away for what, an hour, now? Maybe a little more. She knew Cloud wouldn't have gone without good reason, but worry gnawed incessantly at her nonetheless. What was he doing out there? Who was he trying to find? Tifa sighed wearily, wishing she knew the answers but at the same time wondering whether knowing them would ease her disquiet or instead deepen it further.

She sat, clad in a pair of black cotton pants and a light blue sweater, and tried to banish her uneasiness from her mind. Tifa rested a hand lightly over her distended abdomen. Her baby was asleep at the moment, as far as she could tell. She was fairly sure it was a boy, although she wouldn't know for certain until the baby was actually born. Maternal instinct was almost always accurate, though, at least that was what she had always heard.
Beside her, Ellone lay almost lifelessly beneath the blue and white patterned bedspread, her short locks of rich brown hair spread in a small, limp fan upon the pillows. Tifa hated seeing her friend like this, slowly fading away into nothingness like a ghost caught in the morning sunlight. How could you fight an enemy you couldn't see or touch? Where would you even begin?

Tifa's fingers clenched tightly into a fist almost without her even thinking about it. After so many years and so many battles, that unconscious reaction she had always experienced upon encountering any foe had engrained itself so deeply within her mind that by now it was practically instinct. Only this time, she knew this was a battle she couldn't win, an enemy she couldn't overcome.

Glancing up from her patient for a moment, Tifa met Vincent's penetrating crimson gaze. He hadn't budged from his position on the other side of the bed ever since he had first brought Ellone up here, and Tifa was willing to bet he wasn't going to anytime soon. He had said little, as was his way, and had instead simply watched over Ellone with ceaseless vigilance. In his good hand, he kept one of his handguns loaded and ready, and Tifa understood well enough that he wasn't taking any chances if Ellone's unknown pursuer chose to show itself while she was in such a vulnerable state.

The sound of booted footsteps, though muffled in places by the finely woven rugs lying over the hardwood floor, abruptly brought Tifa from her thoughts. Turning toward the bedroom door, she let out a relieved sigh as Cloud made his way inside, and she realized with chagrin that she must have been so deep in her musings that she hadn't even heard him come into the house. Rising from her chair, Tifa started to go to her husband to welcome him home.

She froze when she saw who was with him.

Tifa had never seen the woman before, but she knew without any doubt who it was. Cloud had told her little of his encounter with the ice witch and of what had transpired between them, but what she did know was more than enough. Placing a hand protectively over her abdomen and her unborn son lying asleep within, Tifa glanced warily at the newcomer.

Maybe it was just her imagination, but as she met the other woman's red-eyed, penetrating gaze, Tifa felt a tendril of icy air sliver around her neck in a frigid caress. In spite of the goosebumps rising on her skin, she kept her eyes firmly riveted on the Snow's own crimson irises. Tifa wasn't about to give this strange woman the pleasure of seeing her squirm—not here, not in her own house.

The ice witch was the first to break the contact, glancing away for a brief moment before eyeing Tifa with a faint, sardonic smile. "Not bad… for a human. So, you are his mate?"

"I am," Tifa replied evenly.

"As I thought," the Snow agreed. "Only one of exceptionally strong will could possibly tame him."

Not sure whether that was a compliment, an insult, or both, Tifa said nothing. She knew well enough what the ice witch was capable of, having faced a few of her kind during her trek with Cloud and the others across the Great Glacier years ago, but Tifa had never thought she'd see the day when he would actually bring one of those dangerous, wintry sirens into her own home.

Shifting her gaze to her husband, Tifa narrowed her eyes in an angry frown. "What the hell is she doing here, Cloud? Are you out of your mind?"

"Tifa, just listen to me!" he explained tensely. "I brought her here to save Elle."

There was a clearly audible click from behind Tifa's shoulder as Vincent cocked the hammer of his handgun. Glancing over her shoulder, Tif saw that though her friend hadn't moved, he had brought up his good arm to aim his weapon at the ice witch.

Vincent's eyes flickered dangerously. "I think not."

"Put that thing away, Vincent," Cloud ordered firmly. "I told you, she's here to help."

The gun didn't move, and neither did its wielder. Tifa suddenly found herself wondering if he would actually shoot the ice witch if the woman didn't leave, and though she didn't think she would be sorry to see her die, neither did she want any bloodshed in her house.

Before she could say or do anything, however, the Snow thrust out her palm almost lazily, and a stream of bitterly cold air shot past Tifa's shoulder and enveloped itself instantly around Vincent's gun. Ice crystals and frost immediately engulfed the surface of the weapon with a loud crackling like the snapping of dozens of twigs at once, and Vincent hastily dropped the disabled firearm and clutched his numbed fingers with the bronze claw of his other hand.

The ice witch lowered her arm indifferently. "I tire of your squabbling and have no desire to be here any longer than I must. Now, will you allow me to do what I may?"

"Fine," Tifa nodded reluctantly, "but we'll be watching you."

The other woman shrugged. "As you wish. Tell me what you know of the girl's ailment."

Sighing wearily, Tif did so, with help from Cloud. They told the ice witch, whose name Tifa learned was Iseldra, about Elle's collapse three days ago and about the strange, nightmarish dreams the young woman had said she'd been having before that. Vincent said little but kept his cold, suspicious gaze upon the frost maiden the entire time.

Tifa eyed the other woman guardedly. "Can you help her?"

"Perhaps," Iseldra replied thoughtfully, "but it will not be easy, even for one such as I."

Releasing his grip on his numbed hand, Vincent eyed the ice witch coldly. "You can do nothing, sorceress. What powers do you possess beyond those of seduction and bewitchment?"

"Charms and dreams are not so distantly related," Iseldra scoffed. "My kind knows much of both."

"We shall see," Vincent muttered suspiciously.

Brushing past him indifferently, Iseldra seated herself on the side of the bed and leaned closely over Ellone's comatose form, carefully laying the fingertips of one slender hand lightly upon the injured young woman's forehead. The frost maiden's eyes narrowed intently as she began to probe her patient's mind and spirit for whatever was slowly killing her.

Almost as soon as the ice witch had begun, however, she jerked upright with a sharp intake of breath and yanked her hand away as though it had suddenly caught fire. Iseldra whirled to face Tifa and the others, her crimson orbs burning with intensity and, oddly enough, fear.

"Have you any idea who this girl is?" the Snow hissed tensely, "or what she is?"

Tifa stared in puzzlement, startled at the other woman's unexpectedly intense reaction. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

Her gaze intent, Iseldra went on in hushed tones. "She is not of this world. Within her lies power such as I have never seen before, power beyond all imagining!"

"How is that possible?" Cloud murmured uneasily. "Does she know?"

"I doubt it," Tifa answered, "but I think it explains why she doesn't recognize anything here."

Unable to take her gaze from her wounded friend, Tifa wondered at the ice witch's words. Could it be true? Another world? As odd as it sounded, she didn't think there could be any other explanation. The circumstances of Elle's arrival here had just been too strange.

Vincent's low voice brought Tif from her thoughts. "If Ellone possesses the kind of power that you claim, sorceress, then whatever hunts her must fear that power."

"She said herself the thing tried to kill her the night that you found her," Cloud agreed.

"But what's wrong with her now?" Tifa wondered. "Why can't she wake up?"

Hooking a few stray blue hairs behind one slightly pointed ear, Iseldra frowned apprehensively. "Darkness clouds her mind and spirit, a malevolent will that keeps her bound within her dreams. She will not die, but neither will she wake."

"Rendered helpless until her pursuer can finish what it began," Vincent surmised grimly.

"There has to be something we can do," Tif insisted. "Isn't there?"

The ice witch nodded pensively. "There may be a way, although it is not without some danger, and not just to the girl."

"What do you mean?" Cloud asked.

"For her to be saved, someone must enter her dream state and bring her out of it. I can help one of you to do this, but whoever goes risks being lost as well."

Tifa shivered in spite of herself. "How so?"

"As I told you before, a malevolent will shrouds her spirit," the Snow explained. "I have felt it, and even its barest touch is enough to drive an unwary soul mad. It will certainly oppose any efforts to free this girl it seeks so desperately to destroy."

"So who's it going to be?" Tif wondered. Had she not been pregnant, she would have volunteered herself. Ellone was her friend, after all, and had provided the first reasonably close female companionship she'd had since Aeris had died. But now, Tifa had her baby to think about, and she knew that Elle wouldn't want her to risk her child's life and her own in such a dangerous endeavor.

Iseldra went on. "It must be someone she trusts, for in dreams, reality and illusion are easily confused, and what seems to be one is often in fact the other. Whoever goes must find a way to reach past that uncertainty and give her something solid to cling to long enough to bring her out."

"Then I should go," Vincent stated. "It is, after all, the logical choice."

Cloud nodded in understanding. "You've been with her the most. She knows you."

Gazing coldly at the ice witch, the stoic gunman tightened his claw meaningfully. "If you betray us, sorceress, you will not leave this room alive."

"Fine," Iseldra replied indifferently, "though I do not much care in any case. Now be still."

Tifa watched with an odd mixture of curiosity and apprehension as the Snow rested her left hand lightly against Vincent's forehead and touched the fingertips of the other hand once more to Ellone's face. Iseldra frowned in concentration as Vincent's head slowly drooped downward as though it had suddenly become too heavy for his shoulders to support.

As her friend's eyes slid closed, Tifa became aware of a small nimbus of pale blue light emanating from both of the frost maiden's hands, and Iseldra's gaze shifted from Ellone to Vincent and back again as she strove to link the two minds together. Murmurs of sound, like the wind tumbling softly through an icy ravine, rose quietly in the air.

"Good luck, Vincent," Tifa whispered.