FINAL FANTASY: POINT OF INTERSECTION
Book 1: The Approaching Storm

19

Twilight enveloped the broken, wooded slopes of the mountains as the sun's last rays sent forth streamers of pink and gold and violet over the jagged peaks to the west. The dome of the sky had already grown almost black in the east, but only a few twinkling stars had as yet emerged in the moonless night. A chill, icy whisper of a breeze rustled furtively through the woods, sharing wordless secrets with the trees, but all else was strangely quiet.

Much too quiet for Cloud's liking.

Cid pulled up beside him, a cigarette firmly clenched in his teeth. "Damn, but this is spooky. Got me the fuckin' jitters and I can't even say the fuck why."

"I know what you mean," Cloud agreed. He shifted his grip on Ayla's reins, trying to give the gold-feathered chocobo a little slack as well as something for his hands to do. He felt they might freeze up in this cold if they held still too long.

Glancing momentarily at his friend, Cloud sighed apprehensively, trying to ignore the feeling of dread slowly building in his gut. He had missed something, somewhere. What it was, he couldn't be sure, but his warrior's instincts nagged incessantly at him, whispering to him in the back of his mind that something just wasn't right. He was sure that Cid, a seasoned combat veteran himself, felt the same way.

The crusty pilot had flown in on the Highwind that afternoon, and rather than have him fly again so soon after an already long trip, Cloud and Tifa had instead suggested he spend the night. All of them would then fly to Cosmo Canyon early the next morning, refreshed and ready to face whatever might come. Red had called yesterday and mentioned stumbling across something he thought was important to the strange puzzle surrounding Ellone, but he had declined to go into detail until he could explain in person.

Cid's chocobo, a green-feathered male named Frog, warbled softly, the sound almost jarring in the stillness as it brought Cloud back from his thoughts. His friend had insisted on accompanying him on his evening patrol tonight, and so here the two of them were, a few hours west of town near the base of the mountains as the sun was slipping tiredly behind the uneven line of the western horizon.

"You think anything's out here?" Cid growled uneasily.

Cloud frowned pensively, his deep blue eyes gazing with a vague sense of disquiet into the woods surrounding himself and his companion. "I'm not sure. Let's keep moving, though. I want to finish our sweep and get home before it gets too late."

They rode further west for another hour or so through the woods, saying little as they watched for anything unusual. Cloud found himself wondering if Iseldra was still out there somewhere or if she had moved on to some other place. He hadn't seen her since their last encounter several days ago, nor had he expected to. But her words still lingered in his mind nevertheless.

The frost maiden had not told him everything, Cloud knew. There had to have been more to her bitter exile than simply a warning falling on deaf ears. As afraid as Iseldra was of the storm she believed she sensed building on the horizon, Cloud had begun to feel that there was a much more personal reason for her depressive melancholy. Whatever that might be, however, he didn't know.

Her reaction to Ellone bothered him more than a little, perhaps because to a certain extent he shared the ice witch's instinct that there was far more to the pretty young brunette than even she knew herself. And how did Aeris tie into all of this? Why had Ellone been so drawn to the image of a young woman she had never met or even heard of before?

A frustrated sigh escaped Cloud's lips as he thought of Aeris. It was she who had helped him begin to find himself again during their journey with the others to defeat Sephiroth. Aeris, with her sparkling emerald eyes, warm and ready smile, and buoyant spirit, had been the first to sense the real Cloud buried under so many false memories. Tifa had ultimately finished the process while submerged with him deep within the Lifestream later on, but it was Aeris who had been the first to see past the mercenary facade he had always worn about him like a second skin.

And yet when it had mattered most, when she had needed him the most, he had failed her.

It was a moment for which Cloud knew he could not, would not, ever forgive himself. Aeris had died right before his horrified eyes, that wicked, curving blade erupting from her chest as her eyes had widened in shock. As long as he lived, Cloud would never forget that single, horrible instant, and the cold, gloating eyes of his nemesis, the man who had slain her. The only solace Cloud had ever found was that he had been able to fight Sephiroth's will enough to keep from killing Aeris himself.

Cloud mulled over these things as he rode with Cid through the eerily quiet woodlands that carpeted the knees of the mountains. Even in the dead of winter, there should have been at least some sound out here, but there was none save the wind in the trees and his own heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears like a drum. The chocobos crunched steadily through the snow on their scaly toes, but other than that there was nothing else to be heard. It was as though Cloud, Cid, and their mounts were the only living things in this entire stretch of gradually darkening evergreen forest.

After another uneventful half hour, Cloud motioned briefly, and he and Cid turned their mounts south in a slow trot. They'd go along the slope for a bit before turning about and heading for home, just to be sure. What little daylight remained wouldn't last much longer, and Cloud wanted to be well on his way to the house when dark came fully. Normally he stayed out for an hour or so after nightfall, since that was when some of the more dangerous predators tended to come out, but tonight his instincts had been nagging at him to be home well before that, although he couldn't say exactly why.

They turned back east about twenty minutes or so later, the eastern sky now almost totally black ahead and above them. It wouldn't be much longer now before the last lingering bits of sunlight gave way to the growing gloom of the approaching night. Cloud wasn't worried about getting caught out here in the dark, though. Unless the dusk faded faster than usual, he figured that he and Cid should arrive back home before the evening had really set in. At least, he hoped so.

They were little more than an hour away from town when Cloud abruptly pulled his mount to a halt and glanced around warily, clear blue eyes narrowing. He could see only the seemingly endless white drifts of knee-deep snow that he and Cid had been riding through ever since leaving the rugged and forested slopes of the western mountains. The vast white fields were anything but flat, however, often broken by dips or cuts, dells and small ridges dotted with small, leafless shrubs.

The wind had grown stronger and more chill as night drew closer, biting into Cloud's flesh with frigid, hungry teeth. A faint yet unmistakable scent rode its invisible current now, teasing his nostrils with its familiar smell, one he knew far better than he would have liked. It was the coppery tang of drying blood, but whether human, animal, or monstrous, Cloud couldn't tell.

"What's wrong, Spike?" Cid asked, halting his own chocobo. "You see somethin'?"

Cloud shook his head. "Not yet. But there's blood in the air. Can you smell it?"

Sniffing tentatively, Cid nodded. "Yeah, I do, now that you mention it. What do you suppose it is?"

"I don't know," Cloud murmured uneasily, "but I intend to find out."

The scent, as far as he could tell, seemed to be coming from somewhere a bit farther north, so he turned Ayla in that direction and headed cautiously forward, reaching over his shoulder and drawing his weapon just in case. The soft, purplish-white glow of the massive Ultima blade pushed back the gathering shadows a bit and tinted the snow a pale violet in the growing gloom as Cid caught up to him on his right. Cloud noted that his friend had also retrieved his own weapon, a brilliantly feathered seven-foot spear known as the Venus Gospel, and was grasping it in his left hand as he rode.

Cloud scrunched his nose in disgust as another smell, as disconcertingly familiar as the first, reached his nostrils. The bloated, unmistakable stench of death rode the winter breeze, the sickening reek a malodorous harbinger of what lay ahead. And as much as he hoped otherwise, Cloud had a fairly good idea of what was waiting for him just beyond the low ridge cutting into the land a few yards away.

Even so, he nearly gagged at what he saw on the other side.

Blood, fur, and gore lay strewn across the plain in a grisly tableau of macabre death, staining the snow a grotesque reddish-pink. A few scavenger birds fluttered sullenly away from where they had been feasting on the remains of what Cloud guessed had once been a sizable group of monsters. Bandersnatches from the look of it, although he had never heard of them roaming in a pack of this size before.

Bringing his mount to a halt just a few yards shy of the grotesque sight, Cloud dismounted for a closer look. Something didn't seem right, although he couldn't put his finger on it at the moment. Bandersnatches weren't overly dangerous to a trained fighter, even in the small groups they sometimes traveled in, but the monstrous wolflike creatures rarely attacked such prey in the first place, preferring instead lesser animals and injured, unwary travelers.

"What the fuck…?" Cid growled apprehensively, also dismounting.

Cloud didn't answer, but instead walked to his left a bit until he came near to some of the remains. He crouched, his eyes narrowing pensively as he gazed at the bizarre sight, and ran a gloved hand lightly along the side of the mutilated carcass. What he saw didn't ease his mind any, and while he had noticed it even while still sitting atop Ayla's feathered back, he had wanted to confirm it himself.

The bandersnatches hadn't just been killed. They had been shredded.

Noticing that Cid was following his gaze, Cloud pointed out what he had seen. "Look at the wounds, Cid. The cuts are way too clean for it to have been another monster. I'm guessing they're from a weapon, a blade of some kind, most likely a sword. Maybe two, I can't be sure."

"But why the fuck would a goddamn maniac with a sword be cutting up wolves out the middle of fuckin' nowhere?" Cid took a long drag from his cigarette as he glanced around uneasily.

Cloud shook his head. "I don't think whoever did this went out of his way to kill them. They were just in his path, most likely. The blood's still fresh, not more than an hour old at most, but what puzzles me is that whatever did this doesn't seem to have left any tracks in the snow."

"You're startin' to spook me, Cloud. Ain't nothin' can walk through snow this fuckin' deep and not leave some steps behind. And I haven't seen a single goddamn snowflake in the last three hours, so they still ought to have been here. What the hell did this, a motherfuckin' ghost or something?"

"I don't know," Cloud sighed, his gaze panning over the trampled and bloody patch of snow. "There are plenty of tracks here, but they're all from the wolves, nothing big enough for whatever did this. I've found other dead monsters too, lately, but noth—"

Cloud's eyes widened as a light suddenly seemed to explode in his head, and the disquiet and unease he'd felt all week finally crystallized in one horrifying, terrible moment as he realized what his own instincts had been telling him all along. Why hadn't he seen it sooner? Why the hell had he been so damn blind? It had been right there in front of him the whole time! Every body he'd found had been just a bit further east, a bit closer to town, and they all, now that he thought back on it, had borne signs of being cut apart by a blade rather than torn up by other monsters.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, bolting upright. "It's here!"

"What? What the fuck do you mean, Cloud? Make some goddamn sense, will ya?" Cid's voice reached his ears, but Cloud wasn't hearing it anymore.

He raced back to where he had left Ayla and all but jumped onto her back. If those bandersnatches had indeed been dead for no more than an hour's time, then that thing could be in town by now. Ellone had warned him, had warned all of them, but in spite of the risks involved in taking her in, Cloud hadn't wanted to believe that the terrible hunter she had spoken of would actually find her. And if anyone else happened to be in its way when it did…

Cloud froze, his blood going cold within his veins. "Tifa…"

Thought left him then as he spurred his mount into a flat out run. Cid was yelling something behind him, probably wondering what the fuck he was doing, but Cloud ignored him. He leaned forward in the saddle, urging Ayla to go faster, willing her to go faster. She sped eastward across the snowfields in a hazy blur of brilliant gold, leaving Cid and Frog behind struggling to catch up. Few chocobos of any kind could match Ayla's great speed, for she was incredibly fast even for a gold. Nevertheless, it would still be a good fifteen to twenty minutes at least before Cloud reached home.

He could only pray he would get there in time.


Tifa hummed contentedly to herself as she carefully laid the plates out on the kitchen table. She had taken the night off from work to get ready for the flight to Cosmo Canyon the next morning, so she busied herself with getting dinner ready for herself and the others. Cloud and Cid would be home from their patrol soon, maybe in another hour or so, and Tifa wanted them to be able to have a nice hot meal after being out in the freezing cold all afternoon.

As oddly amusing as she sometimes found her transition to domestic life, she had to wonder sometimes how and when it had happened. Tifa didn't mind it all that much, really, but she supposed that was the effect having a baby would have on a person. She only hoped she'd be able to get her figure back after her son was born, so that she could feel at least somewhat like her old self again.

Not that she'd have much time for fighting and adventuring, anyway, but she always liked to keep in shape and keep her skills honed just the same. One of Zangan's first lessons to her, when he had first begun teaching her martial arts so long ago, was that she should always seek to increase her knowledge and training and never forget what she had learned. It was a lesson she had taken to heart, much like that dear, gray-haired bear of a man who had always been as much a father figure to her as a teacher and mentor. He traveled often, however, so she had never seen as much of him as she might have liked.

The table set, Tifa moved to the stove to check on the food. She hoped Elle would be back soon with that nutmeg. Tifa hadn't realized earlier that she'd run out, but when she had made that discovery, Elle had offered to pick some up for her at Hamfast's little store down the street. The food might have been fine enough without the additional seasonings, but Tifa had never been one to settle for just okay as far as her cooking was concerned. Her mother had taught her to cook when she was young, and over the years it had become more than just a hobby for her. It was a passion, an art form, at least the way Tifa saw it.

In any case, Tifa appreciated Elle's offer. Her friend had insisted on helping out, and Tifa couldn't blame her. At least now they might soon be able to help her find the answers she needed and perhaps a way back to her home, wherever that might be. Elle seemed to be more or less whole again, at last beginning to leave the pain of her injuries behind her, and for that Tifa was glad.

She had finally taken the last of the bandages off the other day, much to Elle's relief, and while her friend still favored her injured ankle a little, she was able to move about with no pain and only a little stiffness. Elle had since taken to going on walks outside, mostly during the day but sometimes at night, and Tifa well understood her friend's desire to get her strength back.

Vincent usually accompanied Elle on her walks, as he was doing so tonight. Tifa smiled to herself at the thought. There was something about those two, although she couldn't quite put her finger on it. However, she had never seen Vincent as devoted to anyone as he was to Ellone. Tifa knew he felt responsible for her, since he was the one who had originally found Ellone injured and dying in the snow that fateful night, but even so, Tifa wondered if there might not be something more.

Whatever might happen, she thought that, when Ellone finally left, Vincent was going to miss her more than he realized, and perhaps vice versa. It was only a guess, of course, or maybe feminine intuition, but Tifa hadn't missed the looks the two had exchanged during their time here. It was awfully romantic, she had to admit, and she hoped that, if there was something brewing between them, that they might someday have the chance to discover and explore it.

A swift, soundless blur of motion out the kitchen window above the sink caught Tifa's attention and brought her out of her thoughts. She peered out through the glass panes but saw nothing save the snow in the yard and the blackness of the night sky. Had she just imagined it? Was she that tired, or was it maybe an aftereffect of her daydreaming?

Nothing revealed itself to her, so she went back to the stove. No sooner had she done so, however, than out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something pass by outside the kitchen door. Tifa paused, her fingers curling almost involuntarily into fists, and wondered if she wasn't imagining things. Nevertheless, she inched her way cautiously toward the door.

Had Ellone and Vincent come back already? They had only left ten minutes ago, and it took at least that long just to walk down to the store from here. Even so, why wouldn't they have come straight in, if indeed they were outside? Unease grew in Tifa's mind, her fighter's instincts telling her something was amiss. She was probably just overreacting, jumping at shadows, but even so, Tifa had always believed in being prudent whenever possible.

Brushing a few strands of long, dark brown hair from her eyes, Tifa tentatively grasped the smooth metal of the doorknob and turned it. The creaking of the hinges as the door swung open seemed louder than she remembered, but that might have just been her own nervousness. Goosebumps rose on her arms as a puff of cold air washed over her, and she stepped warily out into the frigid night.

Nothing was there.

"Hello?" Tifa called out tentatively. "Is anyone out here? Ellone? Vincent? Is that you?"

There was no answer. It must have just been the wind, she decided. Feeling more than a little silly, Tifa headed inside. She supposed she just wasn't used to having the house all to herself anymore. For the better part of the last month, Elle and Vincent had been keeping her company here. She had forgotten how quiet the place could be with nobody else there.

Tifa had just begun to shut the door behind her when it suddenly slammed open, banging against the wall so hard it sounded like a gunshot had gone off. She staggered backwards, eyes widening in fright as something huge and black and utterly cold surged through the doorway. Tifa felt her blood turn to ice as the thing bore down on her, its eyeless sockets gazing impassively at her from behind an expressionless mask of frigid metal. Her heart beating a frantic staccato rhythm within her breasts, Tifa tried to run, tried to get herself and her baby away from the horrible thing that had entered her home, but the cloaked, shadowy figure was upon her before she could take her third step.

A single terrified scream escaped her lips as she felt the bite of cold steel entering her flesh.