Chapter 3 - Stranger
After about fifty miles, the stolen ATV's died and the terrain was left to be traveled on foot. The pair moved like wolves, and when the heat penetrated the canopy they shed their clothes like dead snake skin, often burning them in the fires they warmed themselves with at night. The sun wheeled in the sky, pairing off with the moon in a circular dance of time they barely became aware of. Finally they were free of the forest, and were forced to walk in the open grass with the sun beating down on them.
Maya was down to her torn pants, boots and a dark green bra that was barely substantial enough to cover her chest. Sephiroth went shirtless and his pants ventilated with several open slashes from his sword. The voices from their destination guided them and lightened their spirits when they felt like they wanted to kill each other as an act of mercy. Soldiers as they were, Sephiroth was starving. He had never been so hungry before in his life.
The ocean became a blue line east of their position. Another ten miles or so, a range of mountains began climbing up into the partly cloudy sky, flashing beams of sunlight crawling over the jagged tree-lined crags, giving them an early bearing on what was ahead.
"Are we nearly there?" Maya sighed, kicking a stone ahead of her. "What with you complaining your hungry all the time, and me sweating to death..."
Sephiroth shrugged his shoulders, rubbing his stomach with a slight frown. "How could we tell?" he murmured, trudging along and rubbing his stomach. "Sometimes I can almost... understand what they're saying."
"And what do they say to you, brother?"
Sephiroth slowed down, narrowing his eyes as he tried to focus. The words all tumbled onto him like gentle waves of distant sound. What they said and what they meant could mean two very different things...
"Return. Return to the Planet. Return to us. We're calling." Sephiroth turned to look at her. "And they also say things that just make no sense whatsoever. That I'm a murderer, a planet-killer. What does it all mean?"
"I don't know," Maya replied shortly, her temper meter most likely rising.
"What do they tell you?" the silver-haired man inquired, smirking at her. But her eyes were distant and empty, and her arms clutched at her elbows, walking quickly. An unsettling paleness came about her lips and her face, while her sun-darkened skin was mottled with the sweat of walking in the full heat of the sun.
He repeated the question, taking her arm before she twisted it out of his grasp. Her eyes became feral and vicious, and she spat, "Fuck off!! Stop touching me all the time!!" Her hand rose with one slap just for him, imprinting her mark on his cheek for the rest of the day.
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The rest of the day was utterly uneventful until night fell, and the pair hunkered down, having used up all of their matches and lighter fluid in traveling, which wasn't a lot. Sephiroth concentrated, his hands held over a pile of tinder, replaying the image of a fire starting, a spark, life, burning bright. His brows knit together and the fire came, jumping up in the tinder and almost burning his hands. He jerked his hands away, rubbing his palms. He felt a distinct soreness in his shoulders, especially if he tries to roll his shoulder-blades around.
Maya sat behind him. She dripped something cold down his back back and grinned. "Water!" she said happily, before taking a sip from a leather waterskin. She offered him some, which Sephiroth sipped.
"Where did you get this?"
She pointed without speaking. He followed her finger to the dark horizon where the light was fading. He trembled as the wind picked up, cooling his sweat and making him tremble. He saw a figure standing in the wind, dark brown cloak and hood hiding his face from view, which would have been hard to see even at such a distance. He squinted, standing up slowly, almost dropping the waterskin.
"Who are you?!" he demanded, his voice strong and harsh across the smooth grass. He heard no answer, and in the next gust of wind, he shut his eyes to protect his vision from sand. Gone was the man when he opened his eyes again.
"Did you speak to him?" Sephiroth inquired, squatting down, feeding the fire with what little branches of debris he could gather from the fields.
"He said he was from the west. We're expected," she replied cheerfully. She dragged a bundle of blankets and objects from within a tall grass. She cut the rope that bound it together with the knife she carried and spread out a blanket. Her eyes widened, running her fingers over the soft fabric. Then she curled up, rolling around on it like a cat in estrus.
"Hey, don't filthy it all up before I get a chance to sleep on it," Sephiroth warned, crawling over to her after the fire was satisfied. He caught her wrist and bit her in the thumb. Squealing, Maya turned and threw him on his back, and crouched on him, staring down over the well of her breasts.
"Do you think he's from the place we're going?"
"Definitely. Don't ask me how I know. I just do." She pinned his wrists, and he let her, knowing she loved to play like this. It wasn't in his nature to deny her the small amounts of fun she could find in an almost barren place like this.
"What's his name?" he murmured, feeling her body heat spreading over his stomach, the inside of her taut strung thighs squeezing against his hips. "Did you find out from his mind?"
"I felt around, but there was nothing," she purred, stroking his chest, the falling darkness making her brave. She explored the tiny minute scars of science that remained on his body. These scars, years from now, would disappear entirely to make room for newer, deeper scars. "It was like he was completely empty..."
She leaned close, inhaled deeply before kissing his lips. The contact was electrifying - every nerve jumped, thus his body jerked and he made a lazy turn of his leg to a more comfortable position. It never dawned upon his feverish want that it could have been wrong to indulge in her kiss, and while he kissed back, she began to tremble like a newborn foal.
She pulled free, just as he began to feel as if he wouldn't be able to stop it from going further. Rolling away as if he were on fire himself, she struck the ground flat on her stomach, then relaxed as if to let the chill wind cool her irrepressible hormones. He bit his lip, staring at the dark sky in order to concentrate on getting himself back under control. He was only a young man, barely into adulthood by human standards, but very much aware of his needs as an advanced being.
He turned his head, watching Maya start exploring the other contents of the bundle. He wished he knew why he felt so angry.
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They carried their things early in the morning, continuing west, taking rest and water when they needed to. Food was not so much in short supply, now that Maya had become skilled in pouncing after rabbits and voles like a skilled fox. She dove her hand into rabbit holes and burrows and more often than not, did not produce much. But her efforts had given them food enough, so Sephiroth didn't complain even when he didn't feel full.
Also, the ache on his back did not decease, but continued well into the next two days, until they at last saw a garden.
A vast wall of shrubbery, well-manicured and cut, blocked the rest of it from view. There was the smell of flowers which soothed their abused senses like a balm, and on the ground were the dried remains of old petals. A whisper of thought came with the wind, making Sephiroth shudder and yet step forward expectantly, as if to hear more.
"Can you hear my thoughts?" he asked the wind, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Can you feel everything I feel? What is this damn sorcery?"
"It's the spirits," said Maya. "Always spirits. Talking away. What do they tell me? I can't say." She didn't notice the unintentional rhyme, and if he did he didn't show it. Then, slowly, she slipped her hand in his and went forward with him. "I don't know."
They both agreed to keep going without speaking. The path that cut through the grass was perfect and immaculate aside from the petals which fell in a gentle rain of aroma each time the wind blew their way. A song filled his head, so full of voices that it hurt for awhile. She shared the same tune, for she started humming it quietly. Where they were going, they did not know. Just the garden, and the temple beyond that, and the daunting kindness of its people.
