Chapter 6

It was an ocean. A deep, blue, glittering ocean, with beings of ethereal light swimming through its arms. One hand outstretched and the other behind his head, Caleb Strife lay on the cold, old wood of the city well, staring up at the sky. His blond bangs feathered across his brow, casting hard shadows across his amber eyes. His face, however, appeared very soft and round in the moonlight, and his lithe body represented that of some type of unearthly creature of perfection. He's alone tonight. Tonight, of all the nights. One orange eye shifted to the large round clock near the well at the center of town.

Five minutes.

His hand dropped to his chest as he returned his gaze to the heavens. He tried to make out his parent's faces in the stars, but he couldn't remember what they had sounded like, much less how they looked—he had been entirely too young. He liked to hope they were up there, watching him.

Four minutes.

He sighed and flicked his hair out of his face. Another birthday, alone. And his sixteenth, no less. Well, of course there was Barrett and Marlene, his adopted family. They took care of him and loved him like one of their own, and he liked that, and greatly appreciated it, but still. Sometimes, it just wasn't right. It seemed that way to him, anyway.

Three minutes.

His uncles, Cid and Vincent, were never here either. It was too far a trek for two aging men to make, from NeoMidgar, here to Nibelheim, and back again. Cid had once told him he had owned an airship, but had sold it when he obtained his current job as an engineer and research scientist for the construction and evolution of NeoMidgar. He said it was all to help the survivors of Meteor—the catastrophe that almost destroyed their entire planet nearly twenty years previous.

Two minutes.

Vincent and his wife, Yuffie—he still could not understand how those two got along at all—were materia dealers: the rare orbs were either traded in or bought at an extremely high sum from their owners. There was almost no more materia left in the world now.

One minute.

Nanaki was currently traveling the world and disposing of the creatures that attacked the roads and towns, keeping the survivors of the Meteor Crisis safe from one more obstacle they did not need in the stages of recovery. Even after sixteen years, they were still recovering. Caleb briefly wondered what everything had been like before it had happened. He never asked, though. And his guardian had even let Caleb accompany him on one or two of these missions, on which he found he was naturally gifted with the strength to wield a broadsword, and exceptional hand to hand combat skills.

The chimes from the town clock started, ringing like small silver bells that matched the fragile beauty of the midnight. He was finally sixteen.

"Happy birthday."

He sat up and glanced around. A woman around his age stood below him, one hand on the wooden rungs of the well's ladder. Her hair was a long, thick brown curtain, and her eyes flashed a startling blue within the shadows she stood in as she stared up at him.

"Angel."

Wordlessly, she ascended the ladder, pulling herself up onto the well next to him. Se let her legs hang over the edge of the platform, swinging them slowly as she looked over at him.

"You haven't called me that in a long time," she said.

"I haven't talked to you in a long time," he reminded her.

"You're sixteen now, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yeah," he responded, returning his gaze to the sky. "I'm leaving for NeoMidgar the day after tomorrow."

Her legs stopped their rhythm: "Are you going to go work for your uncle?"

"I was thinking of becoming a mercenary."

"Why such an odd job?"

"That's why: an odd job. I'm nod adverse enough in anything to focus, so, I'll just become a jack of all trades."

"Do you think you'll be able to find many jobs?"

"There's plenty of things that need to be done that no one wants to do."

"Why did you wait? All the boys our age left already."

"Something kept me here, I guess," Caleb looked at her from the corner of one bright orange eye.

She smiled to herself slightly: "You're lucky. I'm doomed to stay in this small town forever."

"What's wrong with a small town?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Nothing," she shrugged. "I just want to have one adventure before I settle down."

"Sounds dangerous."

"Danger is exciting."

"No, danger is dangerous," he grinned at her.

She shoved him playfully. "You dork."

"Can you blame me for not wanting you in any danger?"

"Why would you care? You'll be off in the city, making money and a name for yourself; you're leaving."

She sounded sad. Caleb wanted to put an arm around her, but kept his distance. Kali Evangelline was known for being aggressive with her personal space—it took two over-bearing ex-boyfriends to get that point across. She had pulled her hair over one shoulder and was twisting the ends together; it was a nervous habit of hers. He knew all of her nervous habits by heart. They had been best friends once. Before…

His eyes quickly picked out the dual scars on her back. The were stark white against her tanned skin; a harsh slap of a reminder. He winced. He had caused those. Back when they were a little younger, when they were inseparable, when they knew how to cause nothing but trouble. At his request, they had followed Barrett and Marlene into the mountains one evening. They made this trip once every year, and returned rather quickly, so it couldn't have been too far away, he reasoned. They trailed them through the valley and up the mountain face, where Angel slipped and fell. Caleb could only sit with her and watch her bleed, screaming for help, until one of the townspeople came to answer his cries. They rushed her back to town, where she stayed unconscious for three days. Caleb received a thorough scolding, and he knew he deserved it. Even after she fully recovered, he blamed himself; he thought he was a danger to her, his best, closest friend. In order to spare her anymore pain, he began to distance himself from her, always making excuses not to see her, and acting cold when they were together. He didn't want to be. He hated seeing her face fall, her sky blue eyes fill with tears. So, he just stopped seeing her. That was when they were twelve. Now, here they were on the old well, speaking as if nothing had changed between them in the past four years.

"I'm sorry," he said, and meant in every way possible: for leaving, for the accident, for his behavior toward her. She looked a bit confused, and she nibbled thoughtfully on her bottom lip.

"You're sorry?"

"For everything."

"Cale…" she sighed, and he felt himself shiver. She was the only one to ever call him Cale, as he was the only one allowed to call her Angel. "For the longest time, I thought you hated me. And I couldn't understand why. I started to think that you were pulling away because of the accident—because I was weak."

"No!" he turned to face her fully. "No, that's not it! It's about that, yeah, but—"

"Do you hate me?" she looked at him fully, and there were the tears again. Tears he had caused. Silently, Caleb shook his head and lifted a finger to wipe them away gently. They sparkled as brilliantly as the stars above them.

"I could never hate you."

She smiled, her face illuminated by the moonlight and so very beautiful: "I'm glad you don't hate me."

"I'm still sorry." He let his hand linger on her face, touching the curve of one cheek gently. "I'm sorry I acted the way I did, and I'm sorry I can't be around to protect you."

"Then let's make a promise," she touched the back of his hand lightly. "Come save me."

"What?" he half-laughed.

"Promise me, Cale. When you're a famous mercenary, and I'm ever in trouble, you'll come save me."

"If you get really famous, and I'm ever in a bind… You come save me, all right?"

"What?"

"How will I know?" he asked her. She shook her head and squeezed his hand tightly. The skin she was touching began to tingle, to burn. Caleb could only stare into her eyes as something faint and foreign washed over him.

"You'll know," she said, giving him a small, gentle half-smile he remembered from his childhood. "Whenever I'm in trouble, my hero will come rescue me, right?"

"Whenever I'm in trouble, my hero will come and rescue me. I want to at least experience that once."

"What?"

"Angel," he started.

"You're leaving, and I might not ever see you again," she cut him off before he could get his argument out. "If we make this promise, you have to come back and check on me, at least that."

"Come on! Promise me!"

"All right… I promise."

He grinned. She smiled back. "All right," he nodded his head. "All right, I promise."

At his words, a small shot across the dome of the sky, as if sealing their pact.