Chapter 14 - The Second Day
-
A/N: You know, from the very beginning I was planning 14 chapters. I've been working on this chapter thinking it would be the finale. I wrote the last scene thinking I still had a long way to go before the chapter was done.
And then Aerin said "No, it's done now. We're going for fifteen chapters."
..... so, we're going for fifteen chapters. ^^;
-
The sky was an irritatingly clear bright blue. Three chocobos trudged with their riders through what seemed to be endless snow fields. The slight mountains and ridges of the citadel's land had subsided, and it didn't look like they were going much of anywhere now. Zair, lifting his blindfold slightly away from one eye, turned to face Aerin.
"Cold, huh?"
Aerin nodded, puffing out clouds and wrapping her makeshift cloak around herself.
They had very nearly walked out of the citadel without it. It wasn't until Zair had commented, rather sarcastically, that he hoped the rest of the continent wouldn't be so obnoxiously cold as it had been last night, that Vincent remembered that Aerin was a thin-blooded desert girl and would need protection against the cold. Taking Vincent's cloak back from Seth's grave was out of the question, and the Mideel-raised Zair needed his jacket as much as Aerin did, so Vincent had made do. Aerin had been vaguely horrified to see the sheets taken from the ancient beds and sewn together, until Vincent had pointed out that nobody was very likely to need them any more and they were the largest supply of warm, wearable cloth available.
So Aerin was currently draped in three layers of Cetra bedding, wrapped so thoroughly that only her face, hands, and legs were visible, and even her eyes were covered. It was kind of funny, and Zair had to grin a little bit as the chocobos trudged on.
Vincent, now deprived of his thick red cloak, was down to some very thin-looking black garments that looked painfully inadequate as a defense against the cold. But he seemed entirely unperturbed, sitting ramrod-straight as he directed Mari purposefully forward. Zair grimaced and leaned closer to Strife's warm neck.
"Hey, Valentine, where exactly are we going?"
"For the moment, Icicle," Vincent said, his tone very much akin to the snow around them. "We can get more supplies there and move on to the Crater. It isn't far; we can make it within the day."
"What, the Crater?!"
"No, Icicle. We may be able to make the Crater by sunset, however, if we hurry."
Zair grumbled and shut up. The morning had been pleasant enough, but ever since they'd started moving, he hadn't been in the best of moods. He blamed the cold - as Zax and as Zair he had always lived in warm forests, and the famous hot springs of Mideel did much to keep the island temperate all year. His leather jacket did a lot to keep the cold out, but not quite enough.
His hand reached up to tug some of his long hair further forward. In an effort to keep in as much heat as possible, he had let out his ponytail and let his wild black hair form a shield against the cold. As long as a wind didn't kick up, it would be fine.
Worse than the cold, however, was the light. The snow reflected the light so brightly it wasn't unlike walking across a giant mirror. Before they had even left the citadel, Vincent had further raided the ancient beds and made use of his own bandanna to fashion crude bindfolds. Two pillowcases, cut apart and carefully resewn, had served to cover the chocobos' eyes. His long bandanna, cut into thirds, provided blindfolds for the humans.
Zair had solidly refused a blindfold at first, even as Aerin had rolled her eyes at him and accepted one. It was the *principle* of the thing, dammit. Vincent's patient explanations of snow-blindness, and the fact that even the chocobos accepted the eye covers after some coaxing, had done nothing to change his mind.
Five minutes of trudging through the snow with unprotected eyes had. When Zair had meekly asked for the remaining blindfold, Vincent had smirked before handing it over.
Zair slunk a little further into Strife's neck. The main reason he'd refused, now that he thought about it, was that SOLDIERs never covered their eyes if they could help it. Zax had tried to wear a pair of sunglasses once, and given up. The Mako glow had reflected back into his eyes and pretty much reduced his visibility to nil.
As Zair, however, his eyes didn't glow anymore. His vision was tinted slightly red by the blindfold, but the blue glow he remembered and had expected was notably absent.
Zair hadn't really wanted another reminder of what he wasn't.
He shrugged his shoulders, pulled his jacket in around himself a little more, and stared out over the vast expanse of white. They had a ways to go until Icicle.
-
Seth stamped one booted foot against the ground, peering down at it suspiciously. When he moved his foot away, all he could see was normal earth; slightly flattened, bent grass rising back into place, but completely normal.
Kneeling down, he brought his head down to the level of the ground and took a sniff. It smelled like dirt and grass, lacking the vaguely pungent, lingering, raw smell that had hung in the air around Mideel. He glared at it.
Once you got past the green sky, everything around here was so absurdly normal. There were dozens of people on the island, and most of them knew each other. People went about their daily business in amicable silence, occasionally stopping to exchange greetings and perhaps catch up on what had been happening recently. Wandering rather uncomfortably through a particularly settled area, Seth heard himself come up in conversation more than once.
It was horribly unsettling, once it sank in. Everyone here was *dead*. No matter how lively they were, how energetic or healthy they seemed, or how otherwise credible their impression of life was, life had already ended for every single person here. To Seth's further horror, people would occasionally *discuss* it, as casually as if they were talking about a birthday party they had attended last week. Overhearing one such conversation had been enough to spook Seth out into the hills where he didn't have to hear people talking.
Despite understanding that, yes, he was in fact dead, it had taken this long for the shock to fade and the full realization to hit. He would *not* return to Nibelheim, ever again. His beloved mountain town was out of his reach forever. There wasn't any guarantee that he would see Lucy again; he fervently hoped that she would come soon, then stifled the thought with horror when he realized he was wishing death on his own mother.
He would never, ever see Aerin again. Lucrecia had told him that the people who came to the island were those that had accepted their deaths, but had rejected the stream's peaceful oblivion. There was no doubt in Seth's mind that Aerin would accept death completely when it came for her. Cloud, Vincent, Nanaki - he wouldn't see Nanaki again for *centuries*, if at all, and was dimly aware that the Jenova effect in Cloud and Vincent meant that he might never have any chance to meet them again.
There was a chance he might meet Zair, he thought, and then they could be sulky together.
Being with his father again was the only bright spot that Seth was currently able to see. Rowan Drasil had been so thoroughly in love with life, that it was no surprise that he would automatically gravitate to the closest facsimile of it after death. He would have liked to stay with Rowan and catch up on twelve years of lost time, but Lucrecia had come over and insisted that Seth go out and get used to the afterlife now, and Rowan had reluctantly agreed.
Sitting down, Seth looked up. Subtle differences in hue shifted peacefully across the green sky like cloud patterns. The familiar silver peaks of the Nibel mountains reached into the sky, their tips lost amid the swirl. Rowan, he had found out the night before, had been the one to sculpt them. It had taken him a full day, even with Hojo and Lucrecia helping him out with the details. It was quite possible for one person to make dramatic changes in the island's scenery, but it could take a very long time.
Seth pulled his legs to his chest and rested his forehead on his knees. Hojo and Lucrecia lived next door to Rowan, and had apparently been good friends with Rowan for almost the whole time he had been here. They pulled at the very edges of Seth's memory, and something vaguely bothered him about Hojo.
He could already hear what Masamune's response to that would be - it would point out that Hojo had made Sephiroth's childhood miserable and was indeed almost wholly responsible for the man's later insanity, and maybe *that* was what bothered Seth about him - but the more Seth thought about that, the less he actually thought it was true. He didn't know what it was, but he was almost certain it wasn't what the man had done. He had had about five minutes of conversation with Hojo that morning, and found the man to be pleasant enough company, if a little bit preoccupied. Whatever the scientist had done to Sephiroth, that wasn't what was bothering Seth.
With a sigh, Seth unfolded and hauled himself to his feet, brushing stray blades of grass off his pants (and glaring at them when they failed to turn into wisps of Mako or otherwise fail to act like normal grass) and straightening his cape and mantle. Squaring his shoulders, he turned around and headed back to the commons.
There was no use sulking. He had an eternity ahead of him to sulk in if he wanted to; right now he wanted to be with his father.
-
Somehow, no matter what, the Crater never really changed.
Jenova smiled thinly as she peered down into the chasm, the high winds whipping her white hair as she did. The Black Materia was warm against her hand, knowing its master well. It was ready to perform its task at any moment.
Soon enough, Vincent would be coming. And he would, of course, be bringing the children. They were of no real consequence; it was Vincent that Jenova wanted. He was absolutely necessary for this operation.
Jenova sat down and settled herself against a large boulder, wrapping her wings around herself. She'd have brought Meteor down ages ago, if she could. She'd tried, in those first days when she had landed on this miserable rock, and found herself unable to tap the Planet's energy for the spell. The Lifestream of this Planet sensed her alien nature, and rejected her entirely.
She had approached the Cetra after that, after months of careful observation, crafting her form to match theirs, subtly borrowing features from their dead. All had seemed well at first, and given more time Jenova might have tricked these Planet-loving creatures to use her Materia. But, of course, bad luck chose that time to strike.
Whether it was a disease she had brought from her own home planet or the shed cells of her own body that caused the plague, neither she nor the Cetra had ever quite figured out. But those who had touched her grew frighteningly ill. It started with dizziness and fainting, then built itself up to delirium and violent madness; more Cetra died in the tortured rampages of the infected than ever fell at Jenova's hands.
The final, horrific stage of the illness, which had managed to disturb even Jenova, had been the transformations. Even with the complete disdain and hatred she felt for the Cetra, it wasn't easy even for her to watch the pale-skinned, green-eyed people, so graceful and gentle in everything they did, clawing desperately at walls as their bodies twisted and warped; to hear the screams of absolute torment as legs stretched and bent unnaturally, mutated wings protruded from shoulders, hands became claws, smooth skin was covered with spines or scales or coarse fur...
Many of those creatures had escaped to the gods only knew where, while a demented few, drunk with the pain of the transformation, continued their mad rampages and were killed in self-defense by the horrified Cetra. Jenova had stood by the entire while, never moving to help. She had been quite sure the Cetra would be able to handle it themselves, and her own mock-Cetra form had not been designed to fight. Showing herself now would have defeated the entire purpose.
After the battle, though, the Cetra had turned on her, correctly identifying her as the source of their trouble. And then the second battle had begun.
Jenova had discarded her disguise; there was no need of it now and her own body would serve her far better than a facsimile of theirs. Now completely suspicious of everything to do with her, the Cetra had somehow managed to steal her Materia, fighting her back any time she tried to retrieve it.
Jenova scowled. And in the end, of course, the Cetra had more or less won; striking her apparently dead at the Knowlespole. They had found themselves unable to destroy her Materia, and instead pooled their considerable magic to transform it into a temple. In the process, they had unwittingly preserved its owner - Jenova had found herself quite unable to die while her Materia remained unbroken, regardless of its form.
It had been a useless endeavor anyway, hoping that the Cetra could use her magic. The Materia was too much a thing of Jenova to be used by any entity so very unlike her. This Jenova had realized and pondered at length during her long, long imprisonment in the ice.
Ah, but then along had come those bumbling miners, and they'd dug her up. Not knowing what to do with her, they had called their superiors in Shinra, and then the scientists had come.
Those dear, dear scientists. Soft, foolish Gast, whose dream had started the project; sweet, stupid Lucrecia who had been too blinded by her own desire to see what Jenova was, even though she should have been the first to realize it; and of course Hojo. Hojo whose ambition had consumed him, drove him to sustain and study her for years, and caused him to ultimately provide the means to her ascension.
She had toyed with the idea, once or twice, of conceiving a half-Cetra child, but never considered it viable - the Cetra knew her now, and would do anything to destroy her; if the unlucky father were to somehow contract her strange plague, she would be done for. The illness progressed faster than pregnancy did, and she did not look forward to having to fight the Cetra again while carrying a child. At any rate, it would be well nigh impossible to re-integrate herself into the Cetra's society after the first fiasco.
Even assuming she ever got OUT of that wretched ice.
But the scientists had come as a surprise. Despite their appearance, they were NOT Cetra. Even in Lucrecia, that blood ran thin. They were a race Jenova had not yet encountered, that called themselves humans.
Jenova despised them, and yet they were the greatest aid to her cause the Planet could have given her. Whatever had infected the Cetra, they seemed immune to; best of all, the scientists' pet project created exactly what she needed. A halfling boy, human enough to use the Planet's energy, and yet so intimately connected to Jenova herself that he could use her Materia - and she could direct him! To Jenova's further delight, he was not the only one she could reach out to - Cloud Strife had bent marvelously to her will before that wretched Lifestream incident, and Vincent Valentine had proved himself to be a fine puppet as well.
He would probably be on his guard now, but what of it? She had touched him at the Lifestream and he had broken free; she had touched him again at Bone and he had yielded. What of it if his mourning for Seth had heightened his sense of purpose? A tortured mind was Jenova's playground. She would win him over again; even if she didn't do it now, she knew how to hide. She would wait, and find him again and take him in again, even if it took months, years, decades, even centuries. He would not age, and neither would she. If he and his children proved too much for her here, she would withdraw and wait.
She had become very, very good at waiting.
-
"Look, it's really simple--"
"To a professional engineer, perhaps. Could you please make an effort to describe it in layman's terms?"
"That's what I've been trying to do for ten minutes, Yamaki, come *on*, I know you at least know *some* of this."
"Yes, and what I know is telling me you should *not* be able to do *that*--" Hojo pointed at a specific part of the blueprint-- "with a flow-reversal shaft."
"It's not just the flow-reversal shaft, look how it interacts with the components *around* it--"
Lucrecia turned to smile wearily at Seth, who had been standing there blinking in complete incomprehension.
"They've been at this for ten minutes now," she said. "I'm lost, frankly. You can sit down if you don't mind being bored senseless."
Seth pulled up a chair and sat down. "I'll live."
"In a matter of speaking?"
Seth stopped, realized what he'd said, and winced.
"Yeah. In a matter of speaking." He looked over to where his father was still doing his level best to explain the more complicated parts of the design to the Wutaiian scientist, punctuating his lecture with a variety of sweeping hand gestures as Hojo occasionally put in his own two gil. "I didn't know Hojo knew anything about engineering."
"Mmhmm. It was his major in college for about a year and a half before he realized how much he liked biology. He'd probably have gone farther in engineering; he designed some unique apparati for our experiments that worked pretty well." Lucrecia smiled wanly, gazing in her husband's direction. "But he wanted to be a biologist so badly. Richard was his hero for a long time before we started the Jenova Project. It was the first project they'd done together, and Yamaki was so thrilled. He'd always wanted to become as good as or better than Richard."
"Who's Richard?" Seth asked.
Lucrecia glanced over at him. "Richard Gast. The head of the Jenova Project for a time before he turned it over to Yamaki."
"Oh. Never heard of him." Seth leaned back in his chair, turning to watch the argument again. "What the hell are they even talking about now?"
"Concurrent energy transfer ratios and gear lock modules, I think. It's all Cosmo to me." Lucrecia said. "I've never had a head for anything mechanical. I could make a car explode trying to refill the gas tank."
Seth turned to her with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "I hope you don't know this from experience."
"Oh, I do, it was awful." Lucrecia grinned back. "It's a little known fact that that's why I *really* vanished. After giving birth to Sephiroth, I decided to refill the company car, and - boom."
Seth laughed, but it sounded strained. Lucrecia dropped her joking tone and frowned.
"I'm sorry.... that was terribly insensitive of me."
Seth shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'll get used to it. Someday."
Lucrecia grinned ruefully. "But until then, I should keep my mouth shut."
Seth shrugged. His voice sounded thin when he spoke. "Well, I've got no choice but to get over it, right? At least my dad's here."
Rowan was, at that moment, elaborating at length about the workings of some part in the blueprint, almost smearing the lines on the paper as he stabbed his finger against it.
"Rather preoccupied at the moment, but here," Lucrecia remarked with a smile.
The boy's smile was thin, but not sad. "And at least this time, he's staying put."
-
It was well into the afternoon by the time they got within sight of Icicle. Even wrapped up as she was, Aerin was thinking with wistful longing of the heat and fires of the canyon. She felt she would be quite happy to never, ever see snow again. Vincent's blindfold was tinting her vision red, and damn it, even that made her homesick.
Phoenix was a fire esper. It was painfully, painfully tempting to summon the bird then and there and have her warm them, or better yet, carry the lot of them to wherever Jenova was. Chocobos were fast, but they could only do so much in snow, and flight had to be faster than walking...
Part of her was annoyed that Phoenix had not already offered her flame to warm them, but she stifled it. She was insanely fortunate that Phoenix was willing to help her fight Jenova in the first place, and to wish for the esper to pamper her was just selfish. The gifts of gods should not be squandered.
And so Aerin contented herself with thinking about what she would do when she got home, and daydreaming about how wonderfully warm the inn would be.
She wondered how Seth would take to the snow.
Closing her eyes against the sudden sharp ache, she brought a hand up to cover her chest. Just yesterday Seth had died right in front of her, smiling even as he faded away... handing back her charm, damn it, her *charm*, why hadn't she thought to use it? Phoenix down was meant to recover the wounded, bring them back from the edge of death, she could have used it, should have used it, but she hadn't, she'd looked for a stupid potion in her bag when she should have been tearing the feather off the charm to heal Seth and now he was dead and she was trying to hold back the tears, she really was--
Gypsum chirped, and Aerin realized they had stopped moving, and she bent down and wrapped her arms around the chocobo's neck and tried to swallow her sobs, feeling the tears dampening her blindfold and smearing messily down her face, and then Zair was there.
Somewhere underneath the sorrow, she was grateful for the warmth.
-
Zair had been so lulled by the monotonous crunching of chocobos' feet in the snow that it took him a few seconds to realize that the sound had changed. He pulled Strife to a stop, looked back behind him, and immediately ridden back around to where Aerin and Gypsum had stopped in the snow.
Aerin was making small, strangling noises that were occasionally broken by big shuddering gasps, and Zair was worried about her health for only a moment before he knew what the problem was.
"Aerin..."
She barely responded as he put his arms around her, but then she half-turned and held on to him, and her face was wet against his chest. Her fingers found their way into his hair and that hurt him somewhere deep, but he did his best to ignore it, rubbing her back with one hand as he tried to remove her blindfold with the other.
"Come on, let's get this off of you so it doesn't freeze... here..." He put the blindfold in his pocket and started stroking her hair with his now-free hand. "Shh... what's wrong?"
"Seth..."
Zair would have given a lot to never hear that heartbroken voice from Aerin ever again. He pulled her closer, mindful of the awkward angle, and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. It was fucking cold and she was getting his shirt damp and his back didn't like the angle he was sitting at and his heart was falling apart, but backing away now would be unforgivable.
"What are you doing?"
The tone was so flat it barely sounded like a question, but something behind it was galling, and Zair turned his head to glare at Vincent.
"I'm *comforting* her, you ass."
Vincent's eyes softened for a moment, but his expression soon became grim again.
"Aerin," he said, riding Mari back towards them a few feet, "we're almost to Icicle. Can you pull yourself together until then?"
And Aerin - poor, brave, sweet Aerin - suddenly pulled herself out of Zair's arms, sniffling and trying to compose herself quickly, leaving Zair feeling riven.
"I-I think s-so..."
Vincent nodded. "It won't be long. Let's go."
And then - without so much as a touch or a gentle word - he turned Mari around and urged her on. Aerin took a deep breath and grasped the reins again, riding Gypsum forward. And Zair was left alone, staring in complete disbelief and a rising anger.
'That.... son of a....'
"Yah, Strife," he growled through clenched teeth. Strife glanced at him over his shoulder, and shot forward.
He entertained vicious thoughts about riding alongside Vincent and tackling him off his chocobo the entire way to Icicle. It was only through the most rigid self-control, forcing himself to stare directly ahead and think about how Aerin would feel if he did, that he managed not to act on it.
-
"Hey, Dad."
"Hmmm?" Rowan looked up from whatever he was working on; Seth couldn't really see it from his position on the tree branch above the man's head.
"What do people *do* around here, anyway?"
"Well, what do you mean?" Rowan put down his pencil.
"I mean... well, nobody needs to eat, right? So no farmers or anything. Nobody needs money, if you can just make whatever you like out of nowhere. So what do people do?"
Rowan grinned and leaned back against the tree trunk, looking up at his son. Seth was stretched full length out over the tree branch, his cape falling over to one side. "Well, you'd be surprised how little people actually do Makoform. We can interact normally with whatever we make, so... We just keep ourselves busy. Some people paint their houses. Planting gardens is tricky, but some people manage it. There's a couple novelists down here that write books. They love it because there's no deadlines anymore and they can just write." He grinned. "I make up blueprints. I redesign my house constantly, this was a Wutaiian layout a couple days before you came. You climb things, I see. Lucrecia and Hojo; well, who knows what they do, they *are* a married couple... but we socialize, we get to know our neighbors... We just do stuff."
"Oh." Seth rolled over onto his back, a tricky maneuver on a relatively narrow branch. "You don't get bored or anything?"
"Of course we get bored. Just because we're dead doesn't mean we stop being *human*." Rowan shook his head and grinned. "Why do you ask? Are you bored right now?"
Seth was quiet for a moment, then laughed. "Well, kinda, yeah."
Rowan stood up and stretched. "Tell you what, then. Those mountains are an excellent replica of the ones back home, if I do say so myself. What would you say to a little hike? Just like when you were a kid."
'It won't be "just like" anything,' Seth thought. 'It'll be different...'
But he didn't care. Smiling, he dropped off the branch to land on his feet.
"That sounds great, Dad."
-
"What the *hell* was *that?!*"
Vincent glared down at Zair.
"Get out of my room."
Zair stood stubbornly in front of the door, glaring at Vincent for all he was worth.
"Not until you tell me what the *fuck* that was back there."
"Back where?"
"In the snow, you asshole. 'Pack up your tears, we're not in town yet', what the holy fuck was that?"
"The middle of a snow field is not the best place to have a breakdown. We needed to get to the inn; at least here she has the privacy of a room."
"Oh, she can REALLY help it when she starts hurting. Didn't you *hear* her? We had plenty of fucking time! She needed someone right then and there and you just shot that all to fucking Meteor and back!"
"*Excuse me* for trying to maintain some sort of *order*."
Zair's voice became low and dangerous. "You. Fucking. Piece. Of. Shit."
"I will not listen to this. Get out of my room."
"Not until you tell me what the hell your *problem* is."
"We would be here all night. Get out."
"Ooooooh, melodrama," Zair snapped. "Oh, poor Vincent Valentine. Poor, poor Vincent - he has all the angst in the *world* and nobody else needs any, *ever*--"
The sudden, sharp slap filled the room, and the silence that followed was suffocating. Zair raised a hand to the red mark on his cheek, staring up at Vincent and suddenly aware of how tall he was.
"Never. Speak. That. Way. Again." Vincent's voice was harsh and thready and trembling with rage.
"I know," Zair said in a low, husky voice, "the truth's a bitch, isn't it?"
In short order, he was nursing another red handmark.
"You know *nothing,*" Vincent hissed. "It will be the claw next time."
"Don't I?" Zair's voice was low and smooth and deadly. "No. I guess I don't. I just watched you - I was with Cloud and the others from the start, I saw their quest out, I was with them to the end - and I saw you, Vincent, I saw you brooding in the corners and I heard you talk about Lucrecia--" with surprising reflexes he caught the claw in mid-swing "-- and I saw you and her in the cave, I know what you've lost, I *know you*, Vincent. And that's why I need to know what. the. fuck. is. your. *problem.* Because if there's *anyone* in this world who can understand what she's going through, it's you."
Vincent said nothing as Zair advanced slowly, staring up to meet Vincent's eyes in defiance of the near foot of difference in their heights. The boy's eyes were beginning to mist over, but the anger had not left.
Vincent took a step backward.
"She *loved him*, Vincent, and yesterday she had to watch him die."
Red eyes flickered to the hands still wrapped around the claw.
"Let go of me."
"And you pretty much just told her to suck it up. You're drowning so much in your own dusty old angst that you can't see it when somebody else is in pain."
"*Zair--*"
"It's true, isn't it?"
"Zair, this is not easy on me either--"
"Fuck, *listen to yourself*!" Zair yelled. "Just *listen*! Wah wah wah, I'm Vincent Valentine, look at me whimper and cry - SHE LOVED HIM, YOU ASS--"
"HE WAS MY *SON*!"
Zair shut up, the anger suddenly gone from his face as he stared at Vincent. His hands were slack where Vincent had broken out of his grip. "...What?"
Vincent seethed, hissing through his teeth - "I saw Sephiroth born. I raised him in the laboratory while Hojo worked on us - *I* heard his first words, *I* helped him learn to walk, he was the closest thing to a son I have *ever had* in my *life.* When he was five, Hojo took him away and put me to sleep and when I woke up and I didn't remember the most powerful connection of my life and Sephiroth was a grown man and sick with madness--"
Now Zair was the one backing up as Vincent advanced, and Vincent's voice was sticking in his throat and he didn't care, he couldn't care.
"--and Seth is everything he *should have been*, I lost my son *again*, and I want to do nothing but shed every tear I have and tear apart the sky for grief, but it is *not* the time and it is *not* the place and if we don't pull ourselves together and *move* and *fight*, there will not be a world *left* to grieve in!"
His back against the door, Zair cast his eyes downward. Vincent took a deep breath and backed off.
"She is only sixteen. I understand. I do *not* begrudge her the tears. But it was not the time or the place. It was not safe. That was my only concern."
Zair stood up straight, still staring at the floor. Vincent turned his back to him.
"Go to her now. Just... go."
The boy took a deep breath, sighed, and turned, opening the door. He stopped, his hand still on the doorknob, and closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"As am I."
Zair slipped out the door without another word.
-
She was sitting in the hotel foyer, nursing a mug of some warm beverage and still draped in her Cetra-sheet cloak. Zair smiled a little and slipped into the chair beside her.
"You holding up okay?"
"Yeah." Her voice was thin, but not broken, and he took comfort in that. She turned her head to face him, setting down the mug. "What was that yelling I heard upstairs? And why is your face all red?"
Zair coughed and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Vincent and I had a slight disagreement. It's cool now. Don't worry."
Aerin accepted that, and took another sip from her mug. "This is the second day, isn't it?"
Zair blinked, staring blankly until he remembered Vincent's words the previous evening. "Oh - yeah. Yeah. So if we don't defeat Jenova tonight or tomorrow, AVALANCHE'll come, right?"
She nodded in response, then sighed. "I wish Cloud was here now."
He didn't say anything to that, looking away and tapping his fingers against the table.
They were already in Icicle. It seemed strange, not quite real. Almost since he had met her, he'd wanted to bring her here... he'd seen, as they made their way to the inn, that Gast's house was still in one piece. He'd been there with Cloud when the young man had seen the videotapes, precious records that Aerith had never had the chance to see...
On finding that Aerith, too, had found her way into a new life, Zair had resolved that he would take her to see those videos. He felt that she deserved to know her heritage and the circumstances of her birth.
But now...
Zair leaned forward and wrapped a startled Aerin in his arms. She squirmed around in his grasp and pushed him slightly away, looking at him in disbelief.
"Zair..?"
He smiled gently. "I know I'm not your brother... but do you think you can make do?"
She blinked twice, then smiled and laid her head on his shoulder.
"I think I can do that."
-
"So, where are you two off to?"
"To see the wizard," Rowan grinned.
Seth punched Rowan in the shoulder, laughing. "To climb Mt. Nibel."
Lucrecia glanced over at Hojo, smiling. "Well, which one should we believe?"
"One of us always tells the truth, and one always tells lies," Rowan said.
"He's the one who tells lies," Seth added helpfully, pointing to Rowan with a grin.
"No, he is!" Rowan pointed back.
"Well, the obvious solution would be to ask them a question and see who gives the true answer," Hojo remarked, grinning back at Lucrecia.
Rowan laughed. "Okay, seriously. We're climbing Mt. Nibel. We used to do it a lot when I was al-- when Seth was little," he amended at the last moment.
"Making up for lost time?" Hojo's eyes softened strangely, and he adjusted his glasses. "Well, enjoy yourself. Lucrecia's recently done some.... *Makoforming* she wants me to see."
Lucrecia poked him. "You say it like it's such an imposition."
Hojo shook his head. "Honestly, I just think the word sounds stupid. I'm really quite interested in seeing it."
"I certainly hope so, I had such a headache from it." Lucrecia linked her arm with her husband's and started to drag him away, waving at Rowan and Seth. "Enjoy yourselves!"
"We will!" Seth called, waving back.
Rowan put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Are we ready to go up now?"
Seth turned back to him and smiled. "Definitely."
-
Vincent sat at his window, glaring out through the frost at the Crater to the north. It was just visible, mocking him.
'I could make it by nightfall if I went alone. I could leave the children here and face her alone.'
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
'And I might have done it before. But not now. This is no longer my own quest for vengeance. Aerin and Zair have earned their right to battle; Aerin especially.'
'And I do not dare face her alone... not anymore.'
/You never had to face her alone./
Vincent jumped at the unexpected voice, reflexively turning to see who had spoken, even as he realized who it was.
'Chaos.' He curled his lip in anger. 'You *promised* you would never--'
Chaos' voice bulldozed straight over the last words of that thought. /Yes, I know. We all promised not to speak to you or interfere with your life. We've kept that promise faithfully over the years, Vincent - and look where it's gotten us./
Vincent opened his mouth reflexively as he formed the answering thought. '....What do you mean?'
/I mean we could have *helped* you, Vincent - but we were sworn to our oath, shut in a corner of your mind, and we weren't able. We wanted to help you. That's all we've ever wanted,/ Chaos said bitterly.
Vincent jumped again, this time at the vivid feeling of a warm snout nudging against his knee. When they had still been speaking to him, Galian Beast had been the one most likely to compensate for his limited vocabulary by communicating with physical impressions. Vincent had hated it; it was terribly unsettling, then and now.
/Friend,/ that most familiar monster murmured, and Vincent could very nearly see it crouched on the floor, its head on his knee, long tail twitching out like a cat's. /Love friend./
And suddenly he *could* see them; all four of them, gathered in front of him. They had done this to him exactly once before, and it wasn't any less disturbing now than it had been then. If he looked away suddenly or tried to see them out of the corner of his eye, they would flicker; but otherwise, they looked as though they were actually there.
He *really* hated it when they manipulated his senses.
Chaos had his arms folded over his massive chest, broad wings folded almost primly behind his back. His nightmarish face was twisted into what Vincent thought might have been a look of disapproval, or of disappointment.
/We could have helped you. It was our oath that bound us, and allowed HER to lock us away when she came in. We would have ripped her mind to shreds if we were free, but she was able to slip in, and by the time we noticed her, it was far too late./
'If your oath *binds* you so tightly,' Vincent managed not to hiss aloud, 'then why are you here?'
Hellmask spoke this time, lifting his mask to stare Vincent in the eye. Vincent hated that especially; beneath the mask, the monster's face was too like his own - gaunt and pale with staring red eyes. And he could not look away.
/Because this's the first time we've got up the collective balls to break the damn oath,/ Hellmask snarled. /We're all just fucking sick and tired of watching you get hurt 'cos you won't let us interfere./
'I am touched that you care for me so.' Vincent's thoughts were hostile.
/We do, Vincent./ Chaos unfolded his arms and stepped forward. Vincent cringed as he suddenly felt the demon's claws on his shoulders, and tried to remember that anybody who walked in would be unable to percieve the creatures in any way. /We do care. We love you./
'You're demons,' Vincent thought harshly, looking away.
Galian Beast howled despairingly and rose to its feet, planting its hands on Vincent's leg. /Love Vincent!/ it insisted, with the sincere emotion of a child. /We love friend! Love son! *Miss* son!/
Vincent gritted his teeth, swallowing back tears. "He is *my* son," he choked out aloud.
/My son too,/ Galian Beast whimpered, licking his face. /Remember. Remember labs. Remember Sephiroth. Our son. Love son!/
Vincent turned his head away from the beast's affection, glancing up to face Chaos. The demon's hideous face was - Vincent realized with a jolt - entirely sincere, even gentle.
/We have never meant any malice. Not to you, not to your friends, not to the innocent. It is your enemies alone we hate. And Jenova most of all./ Chaos bowed his head. /And of course we look like demons - we were born in nightmares, did you expect sunshine and daisies?/
Try as he might, Vincent really couldn't come up with an answer to that. Chaos released his shoulders and pulled himself up to his full height once more.
/We have never been your demons, Vincent Valentine. We only want to help./
Vincent closed his eyes. The sight-manipulation still remained, and he saw the creatures clearly against the back of his eyelids. He opened his eyes once more, just to see them against a setting and not floating in black space.
'You're absolutely sincere about this, aren't you?'
/Completely./ Chaos nodded. /Will you have us back?/
Vincent was silent for a moment, and then sighed.
'I suppose I will.'
Galian Beast barked and licked his face, lashing his tail back and forth in what must have been an expression of happiness. Hellmask crowed, pulling his mask back down and revving his chainsaw once. Death Gigas - the only one of the group who was incapable of speaking, and had been silent until then - rumbled happily, and Chaos smiled a startlingly pleasant smile for such an ugly face.
And then they faded from his sight again, with only Chaos's final /Thank you/ echoing in his mind. Vincent stood, looking out the window again.
The Crater stood at the northern horizon, as if daring him to approach. Jenova waited there, and he knew what she planned for him if he lost their battle... not death, but absolute control. She had done it to him twice. She could do it again.
Death Penalty shone black on the nightstand.
Vincent narrowed his eyes. A nasty smile crept over his face as he reached for the gun.
-
Vincent stalked through the inn's foyer, and would have gone right out the door had he not noticed Zair and Aerin. The healer was curled against Zair's chest, wrapped in his arms.
He considered, for a moment, telling them where he was going.
Shaking his head, he opened the door and stepped out.
-
"Captain?"
Faris' eloquent, thoughtful response was a gentle snore. Faemdos smiled, shaking his head, and shook her awake where she was asleep against the railing. She started slightly and lifted her head, blinking groggily.
"Fmmmds?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Whzwrng?"
Faemdos laughed. "We should let you sleep up here more often. It does wonders for your snoring."
Faris yawned and stretched. "Shut up," she groaned, rubbing the kinks out of her neck. "Ow. No, I'm never doing that again."
"Fair enough. I just thought I'd let you know it'll be sunset pretty soon now."
"Really? Oh, geez. Thanks." Faris stood up and stretched some more.
"Have you been asleep here all day? I've been on duty down below, but I heard Lamkin commenting earlier..."
"Yeh. Didn't get any sleep last night, so I came out here sometime ass-early in the morning and sat down to watch the sunrise... damn it, that's going to completely ruin my sleep cycle..."
"As if we were going to be doing a whole lot more sailing anyway. It's still technically our off-season."
"I keep forgetting that." Faris yawned again, rubbing at a red mark on her cheek where the railing had pressed against her skin. "Thanks for the heads up, anyway. I'll be watching."
"Not a problem." Faemdos looked towards the north. "Do you think they'll do it?"
Faris closed her eyes, and sighed.
"They had sure better."
-
Seth leaned back and took a deep breath of the mountain air. Somehow, even knowing that he was not really breathing and it wasn't really air didn't take away the feeling of rightness. It smelled exactly like the mountains back home.
It made him a little bit more homesick, but also comfortable.
Rowan shifted beside him, and Seth smiled. The only time he had spent with his father had been when he was a very young child, but somehow this was just as familiar, just as comfortable as the smell of the mountains. He recognized Rowan. He felt at home with Rowan.
"Dad?"
"Hmmm?" They weren't even very far up the mountain, but they'd come to a plateau that was too nice not to stop at.
"This is nice."
Rowan nodded. "I always liked this place.."
Seth opened his mouth to speak - 'no, that's not what I meant' - but closed it again and smiled. "Did you get the Mako fountain?"
"Yggdrasil? Of course." Seth had first seen the Mt. Nibel Mako fountain shortly after he had learned about the legend of Odin and Yggdrasil, and had been so excited by the discovery that he insisted on naming the little fountain after the world tree. "You loved Yggdrasil. I had to put it in."
"Can we go see it?"
"Sure. Why not?" Rowan stretched.
Seth stood up and stepped up onto the boulder they were leaning on. Rowan blinked at him.
"Wait, now? There's no hurry."
Seth laughed. "There is to me. I'm still thinking like a living person. Come on, let's go."
Rowan grinned, laughed, and stood up. "Fine. Let's go, then."
-
It was biting cold out, and Vincent was getting more than a few strange looks for walking through the snow in such unsuitable clothing. He was ignoring them, as well as the cold. Temperature was irrelevant to one such as him.
He stopped at the edge of town, squinting against the reflected light. Beyond where he stood was a slope commonly used by snowboarders. He remembered - with some amusement - how Cloud had taken them all down to the glacier on snowboards on their way north the last time...
/But you don't have a snowboard,/ Chaos commented in his mind.
'No, I don't.' Vincent turned away and walked into the forest. 'Nor do I need one. You'll help me out there.'
Chaos was silent for a moment. /Wait. What?/
'It's obvious, isn't it? We're going north.' Vincent began to scale a tree.
/Without Aerin and Zair?/ It was clear to Vincent that Chaos hadn't actually been paying much attention to his thoughts, which was satisfying. At least they had the decency not to walk all over his brain... /You can't be serious!/
'You can fly,' Vincent thought with a grim smile as he reached the top of the tree. 'More importantly, you can fly fast.'
/Vincent, you're mad./ Chaos sounded wary. /It's too dangerous./
'Not now, it isn't.' Vincent's smile turned almost nasty, revealing his fangs. 'She won't kill a promising pawn like me. And you yourself said you'd rip her mind to shreds if you were free...'
Chaos hesitated. /But to outright confront her.../
'Why not? Are you afraid?'
/For you, yes./
Vincent closed his eyes and withdrew himself, searching inside, and Chaos suddenly found himself pulled forward. Vincent made a small sound, throwing his head back as the change began.
'Then protect me.'
Wings unfolded from Vincent's back. Deaf to the sudden cries of shock and disbelief from the people below in the town, he spread his wings, he jumped...
And he flew.
-
Vincent had never really noticed, quite honestly, how fast the scenery sped by when you were flying. He'd never really looked outside when they were on the Highwind, and this was the first time he'd allowed himself to fly freely as Chaos.
And now he was quite frankly marveling at it. Chaos knew where to go and was taking care of the actual flying and navigation, leaving Vincent in the position of passenger.
It was honestly amazing, the landscape blurring underneath them, while Vincent could feel his shoulders flexing as the great wings flapped, catching the occasional rare thermal and riding the winds.
/I can't very well see where we're going if you keep staring at the ground./
Grudgingly, Vincent lifted their head to look forward again. The Crater loomed in front of them, much closer than it had been seemingly only minutes ago. The light was changing, and Vincent noted this with caution as Chaos carefully maneuvered them through the increasingly dangerous winds. Vincent prepared himself to take control again as Chaos glided slowly along the side of the Crater, landing quietly and folding their wings.
Black hair suddenly fell around cloth-covered shoulders as Vincent became himself again and stood up.
Tentatively, he sniffed the air. Jenova wasn't near, he was having a hard time catching her scent.
'But I'm certain she's here...'
He was suddenly aware of a warm pressure against his leg and groaned aloud.
'You can speak, you know. You don't have to lean up against me if you want something.'
/Change? Run? Hunt?/ Galian Beast's limited vocabulary didn't help his request. /We hunt?/
Vincent closed his eyes. He wanted to say no.
'.....fine,' he consented with a sigh, and had hardly done so before his body was changing again, Galian Beast running forward with puppylike eagerness.
'Stay discreet,' he warned. 'Don't let her know we're here.'
/Won't,/ Galian Beast thought back in an injured tone, but immediately calmed, setting his nose to the ground and then to the air.
-
"Do you want to go up to our room?"
Aerin shifted, then pulled away from Zair. "Okay. Thank you."
Zair nodded, rising and helping her up. "Any time."
Aerin brushed her hair back, wiped her face, and smiled at him. He smiled back, and they moved to climb the stairs.
"You think you'll be okay?"
Aerin tossed her head to shake a stray lock of hair out of her face. "I will."
They reached the top of the stairs, turned down the hallway, and were soon in front of the room door. Zair fished a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it.
"Do you know where Vincent is?" Aerin inquired as she moved to sit on one of the beds.
Zair shrugged off his jacket and hung it by the door. "Probably still in his room. Come on. Let's just settle down. Want to try and get a nap?"
"That sounds good." Aerin stretched. "We really haven't had very much sleep, have we?"
"Nope." Zair yawned. He collapsed into his designated bed without so much as removing his boots, which Aerin giggled slightly at as she settled into her bed.
As she slid out of the heavy cloak and crawled under the heavy covers, she thought of Seth again.
Curling up under the blankets, she made a fist over her heart and closed her eyes. Somewhere inside, behind her heartbeat, she thought she could feel the Phoenix burning...
'I know I'll be okay. This isn't the sadness I felt at Costa del Sol. This is real; this is my own feeling. And it will never go away, because if it does, I've forgotten him... and I never want to do that. But I guess it'll hurt just a little less, every day...'
'And I think I can deal with that.'
-
A/N: You know, from the very beginning I was planning 14 chapters. I've been working on this chapter thinking it would be the finale. I wrote the last scene thinking I still had a long way to go before the chapter was done.
And then Aerin said "No, it's done now. We're going for fifteen chapters."
..... so, we're going for fifteen chapters. ^^;
-
The sky was an irritatingly clear bright blue. Three chocobos trudged with their riders through what seemed to be endless snow fields. The slight mountains and ridges of the citadel's land had subsided, and it didn't look like they were going much of anywhere now. Zair, lifting his blindfold slightly away from one eye, turned to face Aerin.
"Cold, huh?"
Aerin nodded, puffing out clouds and wrapping her makeshift cloak around herself.
They had very nearly walked out of the citadel without it. It wasn't until Zair had commented, rather sarcastically, that he hoped the rest of the continent wouldn't be so obnoxiously cold as it had been last night, that Vincent remembered that Aerin was a thin-blooded desert girl and would need protection against the cold. Taking Vincent's cloak back from Seth's grave was out of the question, and the Mideel-raised Zair needed his jacket as much as Aerin did, so Vincent had made do. Aerin had been vaguely horrified to see the sheets taken from the ancient beds and sewn together, until Vincent had pointed out that nobody was very likely to need them any more and they were the largest supply of warm, wearable cloth available.
So Aerin was currently draped in three layers of Cetra bedding, wrapped so thoroughly that only her face, hands, and legs were visible, and even her eyes were covered. It was kind of funny, and Zair had to grin a little bit as the chocobos trudged on.
Vincent, now deprived of his thick red cloak, was down to some very thin-looking black garments that looked painfully inadequate as a defense against the cold. But he seemed entirely unperturbed, sitting ramrod-straight as he directed Mari purposefully forward. Zair grimaced and leaned closer to Strife's warm neck.
"Hey, Valentine, where exactly are we going?"
"For the moment, Icicle," Vincent said, his tone very much akin to the snow around them. "We can get more supplies there and move on to the Crater. It isn't far; we can make it within the day."
"What, the Crater?!"
"No, Icicle. We may be able to make the Crater by sunset, however, if we hurry."
Zair grumbled and shut up. The morning had been pleasant enough, but ever since they'd started moving, he hadn't been in the best of moods. He blamed the cold - as Zax and as Zair he had always lived in warm forests, and the famous hot springs of Mideel did much to keep the island temperate all year. His leather jacket did a lot to keep the cold out, but not quite enough.
His hand reached up to tug some of his long hair further forward. In an effort to keep in as much heat as possible, he had let out his ponytail and let his wild black hair form a shield against the cold. As long as a wind didn't kick up, it would be fine.
Worse than the cold, however, was the light. The snow reflected the light so brightly it wasn't unlike walking across a giant mirror. Before they had even left the citadel, Vincent had further raided the ancient beds and made use of his own bandanna to fashion crude bindfolds. Two pillowcases, cut apart and carefully resewn, had served to cover the chocobos' eyes. His long bandanna, cut into thirds, provided blindfolds for the humans.
Zair had solidly refused a blindfold at first, even as Aerin had rolled her eyes at him and accepted one. It was the *principle* of the thing, dammit. Vincent's patient explanations of snow-blindness, and the fact that even the chocobos accepted the eye covers after some coaxing, had done nothing to change his mind.
Five minutes of trudging through the snow with unprotected eyes had. When Zair had meekly asked for the remaining blindfold, Vincent had smirked before handing it over.
Zair slunk a little further into Strife's neck. The main reason he'd refused, now that he thought about it, was that SOLDIERs never covered their eyes if they could help it. Zax had tried to wear a pair of sunglasses once, and given up. The Mako glow had reflected back into his eyes and pretty much reduced his visibility to nil.
As Zair, however, his eyes didn't glow anymore. His vision was tinted slightly red by the blindfold, but the blue glow he remembered and had expected was notably absent.
Zair hadn't really wanted another reminder of what he wasn't.
He shrugged his shoulders, pulled his jacket in around himself a little more, and stared out over the vast expanse of white. They had a ways to go until Icicle.
-
Seth stamped one booted foot against the ground, peering down at it suspiciously. When he moved his foot away, all he could see was normal earth; slightly flattened, bent grass rising back into place, but completely normal.
Kneeling down, he brought his head down to the level of the ground and took a sniff. It smelled like dirt and grass, lacking the vaguely pungent, lingering, raw smell that had hung in the air around Mideel. He glared at it.
Once you got past the green sky, everything around here was so absurdly normal. There were dozens of people on the island, and most of them knew each other. People went about their daily business in amicable silence, occasionally stopping to exchange greetings and perhaps catch up on what had been happening recently. Wandering rather uncomfortably through a particularly settled area, Seth heard himself come up in conversation more than once.
It was horribly unsettling, once it sank in. Everyone here was *dead*. No matter how lively they were, how energetic or healthy they seemed, or how otherwise credible their impression of life was, life had already ended for every single person here. To Seth's further horror, people would occasionally *discuss* it, as casually as if they were talking about a birthday party they had attended last week. Overhearing one such conversation had been enough to spook Seth out into the hills where he didn't have to hear people talking.
Despite understanding that, yes, he was in fact dead, it had taken this long for the shock to fade and the full realization to hit. He would *not* return to Nibelheim, ever again. His beloved mountain town was out of his reach forever. There wasn't any guarantee that he would see Lucy again; he fervently hoped that she would come soon, then stifled the thought with horror when he realized he was wishing death on his own mother.
He would never, ever see Aerin again. Lucrecia had told him that the people who came to the island were those that had accepted their deaths, but had rejected the stream's peaceful oblivion. There was no doubt in Seth's mind that Aerin would accept death completely when it came for her. Cloud, Vincent, Nanaki - he wouldn't see Nanaki again for *centuries*, if at all, and was dimly aware that the Jenova effect in Cloud and Vincent meant that he might never have any chance to meet them again.
There was a chance he might meet Zair, he thought, and then they could be sulky together.
Being with his father again was the only bright spot that Seth was currently able to see. Rowan Drasil had been so thoroughly in love with life, that it was no surprise that he would automatically gravitate to the closest facsimile of it after death. He would have liked to stay with Rowan and catch up on twelve years of lost time, but Lucrecia had come over and insisted that Seth go out and get used to the afterlife now, and Rowan had reluctantly agreed.
Sitting down, Seth looked up. Subtle differences in hue shifted peacefully across the green sky like cloud patterns. The familiar silver peaks of the Nibel mountains reached into the sky, their tips lost amid the swirl. Rowan, he had found out the night before, had been the one to sculpt them. It had taken him a full day, even with Hojo and Lucrecia helping him out with the details. It was quite possible for one person to make dramatic changes in the island's scenery, but it could take a very long time.
Seth pulled his legs to his chest and rested his forehead on his knees. Hojo and Lucrecia lived next door to Rowan, and had apparently been good friends with Rowan for almost the whole time he had been here. They pulled at the very edges of Seth's memory, and something vaguely bothered him about Hojo.
He could already hear what Masamune's response to that would be - it would point out that Hojo had made Sephiroth's childhood miserable and was indeed almost wholly responsible for the man's later insanity, and maybe *that* was what bothered Seth about him - but the more Seth thought about that, the less he actually thought it was true. He didn't know what it was, but he was almost certain it wasn't what the man had done. He had had about five minutes of conversation with Hojo that morning, and found the man to be pleasant enough company, if a little bit preoccupied. Whatever the scientist had done to Sephiroth, that wasn't what was bothering Seth.
With a sigh, Seth unfolded and hauled himself to his feet, brushing stray blades of grass off his pants (and glaring at them when they failed to turn into wisps of Mako or otherwise fail to act like normal grass) and straightening his cape and mantle. Squaring his shoulders, he turned around and headed back to the commons.
There was no use sulking. He had an eternity ahead of him to sulk in if he wanted to; right now he wanted to be with his father.
-
Somehow, no matter what, the Crater never really changed.
Jenova smiled thinly as she peered down into the chasm, the high winds whipping her white hair as she did. The Black Materia was warm against her hand, knowing its master well. It was ready to perform its task at any moment.
Soon enough, Vincent would be coming. And he would, of course, be bringing the children. They were of no real consequence; it was Vincent that Jenova wanted. He was absolutely necessary for this operation.
Jenova sat down and settled herself against a large boulder, wrapping her wings around herself. She'd have brought Meteor down ages ago, if she could. She'd tried, in those first days when she had landed on this miserable rock, and found herself unable to tap the Planet's energy for the spell. The Lifestream of this Planet sensed her alien nature, and rejected her entirely.
She had approached the Cetra after that, after months of careful observation, crafting her form to match theirs, subtly borrowing features from their dead. All had seemed well at first, and given more time Jenova might have tricked these Planet-loving creatures to use her Materia. But, of course, bad luck chose that time to strike.
Whether it was a disease she had brought from her own home planet or the shed cells of her own body that caused the plague, neither she nor the Cetra had ever quite figured out. But those who had touched her grew frighteningly ill. It started with dizziness and fainting, then built itself up to delirium and violent madness; more Cetra died in the tortured rampages of the infected than ever fell at Jenova's hands.
The final, horrific stage of the illness, which had managed to disturb even Jenova, had been the transformations. Even with the complete disdain and hatred she felt for the Cetra, it wasn't easy even for her to watch the pale-skinned, green-eyed people, so graceful and gentle in everything they did, clawing desperately at walls as their bodies twisted and warped; to hear the screams of absolute torment as legs stretched and bent unnaturally, mutated wings protruded from shoulders, hands became claws, smooth skin was covered with spines or scales or coarse fur...
Many of those creatures had escaped to the gods only knew where, while a demented few, drunk with the pain of the transformation, continued their mad rampages and were killed in self-defense by the horrified Cetra. Jenova had stood by the entire while, never moving to help. She had been quite sure the Cetra would be able to handle it themselves, and her own mock-Cetra form had not been designed to fight. Showing herself now would have defeated the entire purpose.
After the battle, though, the Cetra had turned on her, correctly identifying her as the source of their trouble. And then the second battle had begun.
Jenova had discarded her disguise; there was no need of it now and her own body would serve her far better than a facsimile of theirs. Now completely suspicious of everything to do with her, the Cetra had somehow managed to steal her Materia, fighting her back any time she tried to retrieve it.
Jenova scowled. And in the end, of course, the Cetra had more or less won; striking her apparently dead at the Knowlespole. They had found themselves unable to destroy her Materia, and instead pooled their considerable magic to transform it into a temple. In the process, they had unwittingly preserved its owner - Jenova had found herself quite unable to die while her Materia remained unbroken, regardless of its form.
It had been a useless endeavor anyway, hoping that the Cetra could use her magic. The Materia was too much a thing of Jenova to be used by any entity so very unlike her. This Jenova had realized and pondered at length during her long, long imprisonment in the ice.
Ah, but then along had come those bumbling miners, and they'd dug her up. Not knowing what to do with her, they had called their superiors in Shinra, and then the scientists had come.
Those dear, dear scientists. Soft, foolish Gast, whose dream had started the project; sweet, stupid Lucrecia who had been too blinded by her own desire to see what Jenova was, even though she should have been the first to realize it; and of course Hojo. Hojo whose ambition had consumed him, drove him to sustain and study her for years, and caused him to ultimately provide the means to her ascension.
She had toyed with the idea, once or twice, of conceiving a half-Cetra child, but never considered it viable - the Cetra knew her now, and would do anything to destroy her; if the unlucky father were to somehow contract her strange plague, she would be done for. The illness progressed faster than pregnancy did, and she did not look forward to having to fight the Cetra again while carrying a child. At any rate, it would be well nigh impossible to re-integrate herself into the Cetra's society after the first fiasco.
Even assuming she ever got OUT of that wretched ice.
But the scientists had come as a surprise. Despite their appearance, they were NOT Cetra. Even in Lucrecia, that blood ran thin. They were a race Jenova had not yet encountered, that called themselves humans.
Jenova despised them, and yet they were the greatest aid to her cause the Planet could have given her. Whatever had infected the Cetra, they seemed immune to; best of all, the scientists' pet project created exactly what she needed. A halfling boy, human enough to use the Planet's energy, and yet so intimately connected to Jenova herself that he could use her Materia - and she could direct him! To Jenova's further delight, he was not the only one she could reach out to - Cloud Strife had bent marvelously to her will before that wretched Lifestream incident, and Vincent Valentine had proved himself to be a fine puppet as well.
He would probably be on his guard now, but what of it? She had touched him at the Lifestream and he had broken free; she had touched him again at Bone and he had yielded. What of it if his mourning for Seth had heightened his sense of purpose? A tortured mind was Jenova's playground. She would win him over again; even if she didn't do it now, she knew how to hide. She would wait, and find him again and take him in again, even if it took months, years, decades, even centuries. He would not age, and neither would she. If he and his children proved too much for her here, she would withdraw and wait.
She had become very, very good at waiting.
-
"Look, it's really simple--"
"To a professional engineer, perhaps. Could you please make an effort to describe it in layman's terms?"
"That's what I've been trying to do for ten minutes, Yamaki, come *on*, I know you at least know *some* of this."
"Yes, and what I know is telling me you should *not* be able to do *that*--" Hojo pointed at a specific part of the blueprint-- "with a flow-reversal shaft."
"It's not just the flow-reversal shaft, look how it interacts with the components *around* it--"
Lucrecia turned to smile wearily at Seth, who had been standing there blinking in complete incomprehension.
"They've been at this for ten minutes now," she said. "I'm lost, frankly. You can sit down if you don't mind being bored senseless."
Seth pulled up a chair and sat down. "I'll live."
"In a matter of speaking?"
Seth stopped, realized what he'd said, and winced.
"Yeah. In a matter of speaking." He looked over to where his father was still doing his level best to explain the more complicated parts of the design to the Wutaiian scientist, punctuating his lecture with a variety of sweeping hand gestures as Hojo occasionally put in his own two gil. "I didn't know Hojo knew anything about engineering."
"Mmhmm. It was his major in college for about a year and a half before he realized how much he liked biology. He'd probably have gone farther in engineering; he designed some unique apparati for our experiments that worked pretty well." Lucrecia smiled wanly, gazing in her husband's direction. "But he wanted to be a biologist so badly. Richard was his hero for a long time before we started the Jenova Project. It was the first project they'd done together, and Yamaki was so thrilled. He'd always wanted to become as good as or better than Richard."
"Who's Richard?" Seth asked.
Lucrecia glanced over at him. "Richard Gast. The head of the Jenova Project for a time before he turned it over to Yamaki."
"Oh. Never heard of him." Seth leaned back in his chair, turning to watch the argument again. "What the hell are they even talking about now?"
"Concurrent energy transfer ratios and gear lock modules, I think. It's all Cosmo to me." Lucrecia said. "I've never had a head for anything mechanical. I could make a car explode trying to refill the gas tank."
Seth turned to her with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "I hope you don't know this from experience."
"Oh, I do, it was awful." Lucrecia grinned back. "It's a little known fact that that's why I *really* vanished. After giving birth to Sephiroth, I decided to refill the company car, and - boom."
Seth laughed, but it sounded strained. Lucrecia dropped her joking tone and frowned.
"I'm sorry.... that was terribly insensitive of me."
Seth shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'll get used to it. Someday."
Lucrecia grinned ruefully. "But until then, I should keep my mouth shut."
Seth shrugged. His voice sounded thin when he spoke. "Well, I've got no choice but to get over it, right? At least my dad's here."
Rowan was, at that moment, elaborating at length about the workings of some part in the blueprint, almost smearing the lines on the paper as he stabbed his finger against it.
"Rather preoccupied at the moment, but here," Lucrecia remarked with a smile.
The boy's smile was thin, but not sad. "And at least this time, he's staying put."
-
It was well into the afternoon by the time they got within sight of Icicle. Even wrapped up as she was, Aerin was thinking with wistful longing of the heat and fires of the canyon. She felt she would be quite happy to never, ever see snow again. Vincent's blindfold was tinting her vision red, and damn it, even that made her homesick.
Phoenix was a fire esper. It was painfully, painfully tempting to summon the bird then and there and have her warm them, or better yet, carry the lot of them to wherever Jenova was. Chocobos were fast, but they could only do so much in snow, and flight had to be faster than walking...
Part of her was annoyed that Phoenix had not already offered her flame to warm them, but she stifled it. She was insanely fortunate that Phoenix was willing to help her fight Jenova in the first place, and to wish for the esper to pamper her was just selfish. The gifts of gods should not be squandered.
And so Aerin contented herself with thinking about what she would do when she got home, and daydreaming about how wonderfully warm the inn would be.
She wondered how Seth would take to the snow.
Closing her eyes against the sudden sharp ache, she brought a hand up to cover her chest. Just yesterday Seth had died right in front of her, smiling even as he faded away... handing back her charm, damn it, her *charm*, why hadn't she thought to use it? Phoenix down was meant to recover the wounded, bring them back from the edge of death, she could have used it, should have used it, but she hadn't, she'd looked for a stupid potion in her bag when she should have been tearing the feather off the charm to heal Seth and now he was dead and she was trying to hold back the tears, she really was--
Gypsum chirped, and Aerin realized they had stopped moving, and she bent down and wrapped her arms around the chocobo's neck and tried to swallow her sobs, feeling the tears dampening her blindfold and smearing messily down her face, and then Zair was there.
Somewhere underneath the sorrow, she was grateful for the warmth.
-
Zair had been so lulled by the monotonous crunching of chocobos' feet in the snow that it took him a few seconds to realize that the sound had changed. He pulled Strife to a stop, looked back behind him, and immediately ridden back around to where Aerin and Gypsum had stopped in the snow.
Aerin was making small, strangling noises that were occasionally broken by big shuddering gasps, and Zair was worried about her health for only a moment before he knew what the problem was.
"Aerin..."
She barely responded as he put his arms around her, but then she half-turned and held on to him, and her face was wet against his chest. Her fingers found their way into his hair and that hurt him somewhere deep, but he did his best to ignore it, rubbing her back with one hand as he tried to remove her blindfold with the other.
"Come on, let's get this off of you so it doesn't freeze... here..." He put the blindfold in his pocket and started stroking her hair with his now-free hand. "Shh... what's wrong?"
"Seth..."
Zair would have given a lot to never hear that heartbroken voice from Aerin ever again. He pulled her closer, mindful of the awkward angle, and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. It was fucking cold and she was getting his shirt damp and his back didn't like the angle he was sitting at and his heart was falling apart, but backing away now would be unforgivable.
"What are you doing?"
The tone was so flat it barely sounded like a question, but something behind it was galling, and Zair turned his head to glare at Vincent.
"I'm *comforting* her, you ass."
Vincent's eyes softened for a moment, but his expression soon became grim again.
"Aerin," he said, riding Mari back towards them a few feet, "we're almost to Icicle. Can you pull yourself together until then?"
And Aerin - poor, brave, sweet Aerin - suddenly pulled herself out of Zair's arms, sniffling and trying to compose herself quickly, leaving Zair feeling riven.
"I-I think s-so..."
Vincent nodded. "It won't be long. Let's go."
And then - without so much as a touch or a gentle word - he turned Mari around and urged her on. Aerin took a deep breath and grasped the reins again, riding Gypsum forward. And Zair was left alone, staring in complete disbelief and a rising anger.
'That.... son of a....'
"Yah, Strife," he growled through clenched teeth. Strife glanced at him over his shoulder, and shot forward.
He entertained vicious thoughts about riding alongside Vincent and tackling him off his chocobo the entire way to Icicle. It was only through the most rigid self-control, forcing himself to stare directly ahead and think about how Aerin would feel if he did, that he managed not to act on it.
-
"Hey, Dad."
"Hmmm?" Rowan looked up from whatever he was working on; Seth couldn't really see it from his position on the tree branch above the man's head.
"What do people *do* around here, anyway?"
"Well, what do you mean?" Rowan put down his pencil.
"I mean... well, nobody needs to eat, right? So no farmers or anything. Nobody needs money, if you can just make whatever you like out of nowhere. So what do people do?"
Rowan grinned and leaned back against the tree trunk, looking up at his son. Seth was stretched full length out over the tree branch, his cape falling over to one side. "Well, you'd be surprised how little people actually do Makoform. We can interact normally with whatever we make, so... We just keep ourselves busy. Some people paint their houses. Planting gardens is tricky, but some people manage it. There's a couple novelists down here that write books. They love it because there's no deadlines anymore and they can just write." He grinned. "I make up blueprints. I redesign my house constantly, this was a Wutaiian layout a couple days before you came. You climb things, I see. Lucrecia and Hojo; well, who knows what they do, they *are* a married couple... but we socialize, we get to know our neighbors... We just do stuff."
"Oh." Seth rolled over onto his back, a tricky maneuver on a relatively narrow branch. "You don't get bored or anything?"
"Of course we get bored. Just because we're dead doesn't mean we stop being *human*." Rowan shook his head and grinned. "Why do you ask? Are you bored right now?"
Seth was quiet for a moment, then laughed. "Well, kinda, yeah."
Rowan stood up and stretched. "Tell you what, then. Those mountains are an excellent replica of the ones back home, if I do say so myself. What would you say to a little hike? Just like when you were a kid."
'It won't be "just like" anything,' Seth thought. 'It'll be different...'
But he didn't care. Smiling, he dropped off the branch to land on his feet.
"That sounds great, Dad."
-
"What the *hell* was *that?!*"
Vincent glared down at Zair.
"Get out of my room."
Zair stood stubbornly in front of the door, glaring at Vincent for all he was worth.
"Not until you tell me what the *fuck* that was back there."
"Back where?"
"In the snow, you asshole. 'Pack up your tears, we're not in town yet', what the holy fuck was that?"
"The middle of a snow field is not the best place to have a breakdown. We needed to get to the inn; at least here she has the privacy of a room."
"Oh, she can REALLY help it when she starts hurting. Didn't you *hear* her? We had plenty of fucking time! She needed someone right then and there and you just shot that all to fucking Meteor and back!"
"*Excuse me* for trying to maintain some sort of *order*."
Zair's voice became low and dangerous. "You. Fucking. Piece. Of. Shit."
"I will not listen to this. Get out of my room."
"Not until you tell me what the hell your *problem* is."
"We would be here all night. Get out."
"Ooooooh, melodrama," Zair snapped. "Oh, poor Vincent Valentine. Poor, poor Vincent - he has all the angst in the *world* and nobody else needs any, *ever*--"
The sudden, sharp slap filled the room, and the silence that followed was suffocating. Zair raised a hand to the red mark on his cheek, staring up at Vincent and suddenly aware of how tall he was.
"Never. Speak. That. Way. Again." Vincent's voice was harsh and thready and trembling with rage.
"I know," Zair said in a low, husky voice, "the truth's a bitch, isn't it?"
In short order, he was nursing another red handmark.
"You know *nothing,*" Vincent hissed. "It will be the claw next time."
"Don't I?" Zair's voice was low and smooth and deadly. "No. I guess I don't. I just watched you - I was with Cloud and the others from the start, I saw their quest out, I was with them to the end - and I saw you, Vincent, I saw you brooding in the corners and I heard you talk about Lucrecia--" with surprising reflexes he caught the claw in mid-swing "-- and I saw you and her in the cave, I know what you've lost, I *know you*, Vincent. And that's why I need to know what. the. fuck. is. your. *problem.* Because if there's *anyone* in this world who can understand what she's going through, it's you."
Vincent said nothing as Zair advanced slowly, staring up to meet Vincent's eyes in defiance of the near foot of difference in their heights. The boy's eyes were beginning to mist over, but the anger had not left.
Vincent took a step backward.
"She *loved him*, Vincent, and yesterday she had to watch him die."
Red eyes flickered to the hands still wrapped around the claw.
"Let go of me."
"And you pretty much just told her to suck it up. You're drowning so much in your own dusty old angst that you can't see it when somebody else is in pain."
"*Zair--*"
"It's true, isn't it?"
"Zair, this is not easy on me either--"
"Fuck, *listen to yourself*!" Zair yelled. "Just *listen*! Wah wah wah, I'm Vincent Valentine, look at me whimper and cry - SHE LOVED HIM, YOU ASS--"
"HE WAS MY *SON*!"
Zair shut up, the anger suddenly gone from his face as he stared at Vincent. His hands were slack where Vincent had broken out of his grip. "...What?"
Vincent seethed, hissing through his teeth - "I saw Sephiroth born. I raised him in the laboratory while Hojo worked on us - *I* heard his first words, *I* helped him learn to walk, he was the closest thing to a son I have *ever had* in my *life.* When he was five, Hojo took him away and put me to sleep and when I woke up and I didn't remember the most powerful connection of my life and Sephiroth was a grown man and sick with madness--"
Now Zair was the one backing up as Vincent advanced, and Vincent's voice was sticking in his throat and he didn't care, he couldn't care.
"--and Seth is everything he *should have been*, I lost my son *again*, and I want to do nothing but shed every tear I have and tear apart the sky for grief, but it is *not* the time and it is *not* the place and if we don't pull ourselves together and *move* and *fight*, there will not be a world *left* to grieve in!"
His back against the door, Zair cast his eyes downward. Vincent took a deep breath and backed off.
"She is only sixteen. I understand. I do *not* begrudge her the tears. But it was not the time or the place. It was not safe. That was my only concern."
Zair stood up straight, still staring at the floor. Vincent turned his back to him.
"Go to her now. Just... go."
The boy took a deep breath, sighed, and turned, opening the door. He stopped, his hand still on the doorknob, and closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"As am I."
Zair slipped out the door without another word.
-
She was sitting in the hotel foyer, nursing a mug of some warm beverage and still draped in her Cetra-sheet cloak. Zair smiled a little and slipped into the chair beside her.
"You holding up okay?"
"Yeah." Her voice was thin, but not broken, and he took comfort in that. She turned her head to face him, setting down the mug. "What was that yelling I heard upstairs? And why is your face all red?"
Zair coughed and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Vincent and I had a slight disagreement. It's cool now. Don't worry."
Aerin accepted that, and took another sip from her mug. "This is the second day, isn't it?"
Zair blinked, staring blankly until he remembered Vincent's words the previous evening. "Oh - yeah. Yeah. So if we don't defeat Jenova tonight or tomorrow, AVALANCHE'll come, right?"
She nodded in response, then sighed. "I wish Cloud was here now."
He didn't say anything to that, looking away and tapping his fingers against the table.
They were already in Icicle. It seemed strange, not quite real. Almost since he had met her, he'd wanted to bring her here... he'd seen, as they made their way to the inn, that Gast's house was still in one piece. He'd been there with Cloud when the young man had seen the videotapes, precious records that Aerith had never had the chance to see...
On finding that Aerith, too, had found her way into a new life, Zair had resolved that he would take her to see those videos. He felt that she deserved to know her heritage and the circumstances of her birth.
But now...
Zair leaned forward and wrapped a startled Aerin in his arms. She squirmed around in his grasp and pushed him slightly away, looking at him in disbelief.
"Zair..?"
He smiled gently. "I know I'm not your brother... but do you think you can make do?"
She blinked twice, then smiled and laid her head on his shoulder.
"I think I can do that."
-
"So, where are you two off to?"
"To see the wizard," Rowan grinned.
Seth punched Rowan in the shoulder, laughing. "To climb Mt. Nibel."
Lucrecia glanced over at Hojo, smiling. "Well, which one should we believe?"
"One of us always tells the truth, and one always tells lies," Rowan said.
"He's the one who tells lies," Seth added helpfully, pointing to Rowan with a grin.
"No, he is!" Rowan pointed back.
"Well, the obvious solution would be to ask them a question and see who gives the true answer," Hojo remarked, grinning back at Lucrecia.
Rowan laughed. "Okay, seriously. We're climbing Mt. Nibel. We used to do it a lot when I was al-- when Seth was little," he amended at the last moment.
"Making up for lost time?" Hojo's eyes softened strangely, and he adjusted his glasses. "Well, enjoy yourself. Lucrecia's recently done some.... *Makoforming* she wants me to see."
Lucrecia poked him. "You say it like it's such an imposition."
Hojo shook his head. "Honestly, I just think the word sounds stupid. I'm really quite interested in seeing it."
"I certainly hope so, I had such a headache from it." Lucrecia linked her arm with her husband's and started to drag him away, waving at Rowan and Seth. "Enjoy yourselves!"
"We will!" Seth called, waving back.
Rowan put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Are we ready to go up now?"
Seth turned back to him and smiled. "Definitely."
-
Vincent sat at his window, glaring out through the frost at the Crater to the north. It was just visible, mocking him.
'I could make it by nightfall if I went alone. I could leave the children here and face her alone.'
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
'And I might have done it before. But not now. This is no longer my own quest for vengeance. Aerin and Zair have earned their right to battle; Aerin especially.'
'And I do not dare face her alone... not anymore.'
/You never had to face her alone./
Vincent jumped at the unexpected voice, reflexively turning to see who had spoken, even as he realized who it was.
'Chaos.' He curled his lip in anger. 'You *promised* you would never--'
Chaos' voice bulldozed straight over the last words of that thought. /Yes, I know. We all promised not to speak to you or interfere with your life. We've kept that promise faithfully over the years, Vincent - and look where it's gotten us./
Vincent opened his mouth reflexively as he formed the answering thought. '....What do you mean?'
/I mean we could have *helped* you, Vincent - but we were sworn to our oath, shut in a corner of your mind, and we weren't able. We wanted to help you. That's all we've ever wanted,/ Chaos said bitterly.
Vincent jumped again, this time at the vivid feeling of a warm snout nudging against his knee. When they had still been speaking to him, Galian Beast had been the one most likely to compensate for his limited vocabulary by communicating with physical impressions. Vincent had hated it; it was terribly unsettling, then and now.
/Friend,/ that most familiar monster murmured, and Vincent could very nearly see it crouched on the floor, its head on his knee, long tail twitching out like a cat's. /Love friend./
And suddenly he *could* see them; all four of them, gathered in front of him. They had done this to him exactly once before, and it wasn't any less disturbing now than it had been then. If he looked away suddenly or tried to see them out of the corner of his eye, they would flicker; but otherwise, they looked as though they were actually there.
He *really* hated it when they manipulated his senses.
Chaos had his arms folded over his massive chest, broad wings folded almost primly behind his back. His nightmarish face was twisted into what Vincent thought might have been a look of disapproval, or of disappointment.
/We could have helped you. It was our oath that bound us, and allowed HER to lock us away when she came in. We would have ripped her mind to shreds if we were free, but she was able to slip in, and by the time we noticed her, it was far too late./
'If your oath *binds* you so tightly,' Vincent managed not to hiss aloud, 'then why are you here?'
Hellmask spoke this time, lifting his mask to stare Vincent in the eye. Vincent hated that especially; beneath the mask, the monster's face was too like his own - gaunt and pale with staring red eyes. And he could not look away.
/Because this's the first time we've got up the collective balls to break the damn oath,/ Hellmask snarled. /We're all just fucking sick and tired of watching you get hurt 'cos you won't let us interfere./
'I am touched that you care for me so.' Vincent's thoughts were hostile.
/We do, Vincent./ Chaos unfolded his arms and stepped forward. Vincent cringed as he suddenly felt the demon's claws on his shoulders, and tried to remember that anybody who walked in would be unable to percieve the creatures in any way. /We do care. We love you./
'You're demons,' Vincent thought harshly, looking away.
Galian Beast howled despairingly and rose to its feet, planting its hands on Vincent's leg. /Love Vincent!/ it insisted, with the sincere emotion of a child. /We love friend! Love son! *Miss* son!/
Vincent gritted his teeth, swallowing back tears. "He is *my* son," he choked out aloud.
/My son too,/ Galian Beast whimpered, licking his face. /Remember. Remember labs. Remember Sephiroth. Our son. Love son!/
Vincent turned his head away from the beast's affection, glancing up to face Chaos. The demon's hideous face was - Vincent realized with a jolt - entirely sincere, even gentle.
/We have never meant any malice. Not to you, not to your friends, not to the innocent. It is your enemies alone we hate. And Jenova most of all./ Chaos bowed his head. /And of course we look like demons - we were born in nightmares, did you expect sunshine and daisies?/
Try as he might, Vincent really couldn't come up with an answer to that. Chaos released his shoulders and pulled himself up to his full height once more.
/We have never been your demons, Vincent Valentine. We only want to help./
Vincent closed his eyes. The sight-manipulation still remained, and he saw the creatures clearly against the back of his eyelids. He opened his eyes once more, just to see them against a setting and not floating in black space.
'You're absolutely sincere about this, aren't you?'
/Completely./ Chaos nodded. /Will you have us back?/
Vincent was silent for a moment, and then sighed.
'I suppose I will.'
Galian Beast barked and licked his face, lashing his tail back and forth in what must have been an expression of happiness. Hellmask crowed, pulling his mask back down and revving his chainsaw once. Death Gigas - the only one of the group who was incapable of speaking, and had been silent until then - rumbled happily, and Chaos smiled a startlingly pleasant smile for such an ugly face.
And then they faded from his sight again, with only Chaos's final /Thank you/ echoing in his mind. Vincent stood, looking out the window again.
The Crater stood at the northern horizon, as if daring him to approach. Jenova waited there, and he knew what she planned for him if he lost their battle... not death, but absolute control. She had done it to him twice. She could do it again.
Death Penalty shone black on the nightstand.
Vincent narrowed his eyes. A nasty smile crept over his face as he reached for the gun.
-
Vincent stalked through the inn's foyer, and would have gone right out the door had he not noticed Zair and Aerin. The healer was curled against Zair's chest, wrapped in his arms.
He considered, for a moment, telling them where he was going.
Shaking his head, he opened the door and stepped out.
-
"Captain?"
Faris' eloquent, thoughtful response was a gentle snore. Faemdos smiled, shaking his head, and shook her awake where she was asleep against the railing. She started slightly and lifted her head, blinking groggily.
"Fmmmds?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Whzwrng?"
Faemdos laughed. "We should let you sleep up here more often. It does wonders for your snoring."
Faris yawned and stretched. "Shut up," she groaned, rubbing the kinks out of her neck. "Ow. No, I'm never doing that again."
"Fair enough. I just thought I'd let you know it'll be sunset pretty soon now."
"Really? Oh, geez. Thanks." Faris stood up and stretched some more.
"Have you been asleep here all day? I've been on duty down below, but I heard Lamkin commenting earlier..."
"Yeh. Didn't get any sleep last night, so I came out here sometime ass-early in the morning and sat down to watch the sunrise... damn it, that's going to completely ruin my sleep cycle..."
"As if we were going to be doing a whole lot more sailing anyway. It's still technically our off-season."
"I keep forgetting that." Faris yawned again, rubbing at a red mark on her cheek where the railing had pressed against her skin. "Thanks for the heads up, anyway. I'll be watching."
"Not a problem." Faemdos looked towards the north. "Do you think they'll do it?"
Faris closed her eyes, and sighed.
"They had sure better."
-
Seth leaned back and took a deep breath of the mountain air. Somehow, even knowing that he was not really breathing and it wasn't really air didn't take away the feeling of rightness. It smelled exactly like the mountains back home.
It made him a little bit more homesick, but also comfortable.
Rowan shifted beside him, and Seth smiled. The only time he had spent with his father had been when he was a very young child, but somehow this was just as familiar, just as comfortable as the smell of the mountains. He recognized Rowan. He felt at home with Rowan.
"Dad?"
"Hmmm?" They weren't even very far up the mountain, but they'd come to a plateau that was too nice not to stop at.
"This is nice."
Rowan nodded. "I always liked this place.."
Seth opened his mouth to speak - 'no, that's not what I meant' - but closed it again and smiled. "Did you get the Mako fountain?"
"Yggdrasil? Of course." Seth had first seen the Mt. Nibel Mako fountain shortly after he had learned about the legend of Odin and Yggdrasil, and had been so excited by the discovery that he insisted on naming the little fountain after the world tree. "You loved Yggdrasil. I had to put it in."
"Can we go see it?"
"Sure. Why not?" Rowan stretched.
Seth stood up and stepped up onto the boulder they were leaning on. Rowan blinked at him.
"Wait, now? There's no hurry."
Seth laughed. "There is to me. I'm still thinking like a living person. Come on, let's go."
Rowan grinned, laughed, and stood up. "Fine. Let's go, then."
-
It was biting cold out, and Vincent was getting more than a few strange looks for walking through the snow in such unsuitable clothing. He was ignoring them, as well as the cold. Temperature was irrelevant to one such as him.
He stopped at the edge of town, squinting against the reflected light. Beyond where he stood was a slope commonly used by snowboarders. He remembered - with some amusement - how Cloud had taken them all down to the glacier on snowboards on their way north the last time...
/But you don't have a snowboard,/ Chaos commented in his mind.
'No, I don't.' Vincent turned away and walked into the forest. 'Nor do I need one. You'll help me out there.'
Chaos was silent for a moment. /Wait. What?/
'It's obvious, isn't it? We're going north.' Vincent began to scale a tree.
/Without Aerin and Zair?/ It was clear to Vincent that Chaos hadn't actually been paying much attention to his thoughts, which was satisfying. At least they had the decency not to walk all over his brain... /You can't be serious!/
'You can fly,' Vincent thought with a grim smile as he reached the top of the tree. 'More importantly, you can fly fast.'
/Vincent, you're mad./ Chaos sounded wary. /It's too dangerous./
'Not now, it isn't.' Vincent's smile turned almost nasty, revealing his fangs. 'She won't kill a promising pawn like me. And you yourself said you'd rip her mind to shreds if you were free...'
Chaos hesitated. /But to outright confront her.../
'Why not? Are you afraid?'
/For you, yes./
Vincent closed his eyes and withdrew himself, searching inside, and Chaos suddenly found himself pulled forward. Vincent made a small sound, throwing his head back as the change began.
'Then protect me.'
Wings unfolded from Vincent's back. Deaf to the sudden cries of shock and disbelief from the people below in the town, he spread his wings, he jumped...
And he flew.
-
Vincent had never really noticed, quite honestly, how fast the scenery sped by when you were flying. He'd never really looked outside when they were on the Highwind, and this was the first time he'd allowed himself to fly freely as Chaos.
And now he was quite frankly marveling at it. Chaos knew where to go and was taking care of the actual flying and navigation, leaving Vincent in the position of passenger.
It was honestly amazing, the landscape blurring underneath them, while Vincent could feel his shoulders flexing as the great wings flapped, catching the occasional rare thermal and riding the winds.
/I can't very well see where we're going if you keep staring at the ground./
Grudgingly, Vincent lifted their head to look forward again. The Crater loomed in front of them, much closer than it had been seemingly only minutes ago. The light was changing, and Vincent noted this with caution as Chaos carefully maneuvered them through the increasingly dangerous winds. Vincent prepared himself to take control again as Chaos glided slowly along the side of the Crater, landing quietly and folding their wings.
Black hair suddenly fell around cloth-covered shoulders as Vincent became himself again and stood up.
Tentatively, he sniffed the air. Jenova wasn't near, he was having a hard time catching her scent.
'But I'm certain she's here...'
He was suddenly aware of a warm pressure against his leg and groaned aloud.
'You can speak, you know. You don't have to lean up against me if you want something.'
/Change? Run? Hunt?/ Galian Beast's limited vocabulary didn't help his request. /We hunt?/
Vincent closed his eyes. He wanted to say no.
'.....fine,' he consented with a sigh, and had hardly done so before his body was changing again, Galian Beast running forward with puppylike eagerness.
'Stay discreet,' he warned. 'Don't let her know we're here.'
/Won't,/ Galian Beast thought back in an injured tone, but immediately calmed, setting his nose to the ground and then to the air.
-
"Do you want to go up to our room?"
Aerin shifted, then pulled away from Zair. "Okay. Thank you."
Zair nodded, rising and helping her up. "Any time."
Aerin brushed her hair back, wiped her face, and smiled at him. He smiled back, and they moved to climb the stairs.
"You think you'll be okay?"
Aerin tossed her head to shake a stray lock of hair out of her face. "I will."
They reached the top of the stairs, turned down the hallway, and were soon in front of the room door. Zair fished a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it.
"Do you know where Vincent is?" Aerin inquired as she moved to sit on one of the beds.
Zair shrugged off his jacket and hung it by the door. "Probably still in his room. Come on. Let's just settle down. Want to try and get a nap?"
"That sounds good." Aerin stretched. "We really haven't had very much sleep, have we?"
"Nope." Zair yawned. He collapsed into his designated bed without so much as removing his boots, which Aerin giggled slightly at as she settled into her bed.
As she slid out of the heavy cloak and crawled under the heavy covers, she thought of Seth again.
Curling up under the blankets, she made a fist over her heart and closed her eyes. Somewhere inside, behind her heartbeat, she thought she could feel the Phoenix burning...
'I know I'll be okay. This isn't the sadness I felt at Costa del Sol. This is real; this is my own feeling. And it will never go away, because if it does, I've forgotten him... and I never want to do that. But I guess it'll hurt just a little less, every day...'
'And I think I can deal with that.'