.4.
Sephiroth awoke with a start.
He didn't recall falling asleep. In fact, he hardly ever slept; he hadn't for a very long time. Sleep was something his body, enhanced by so very many things, no longer needed. He shook the drowsiness from his mind and rose to his feet before glancing at the fire. It was now nothing more than ash, and it had long since died. A quick survey of the clearing told him that the girl was gone, and as realization of what happened hit him, he whirled and struck a tree with his clenched fist. The sun was directly overhead, filtering in broken patches through the leafy canopy, indicating it was midday. Seething, he kicked at the ashes of the fire, scattering them high into the air. There was only one possible explanation: that girl, that insignificant slip of a girl, had cast him into unnatural slumber. How she had managed he had no idea, for he had seen no trace of Materia on her person. The fact that her magic affected him at all was astonishing; he was resistant to most all forms. Somehow, it had worked, and she was gone, had been gone for quite some time now. Not that it mattered, for catching up to her would be no contest. And when he did, he thought darkly, it was going to be most unpleasant for her.
It was as he crouched down, examining the leaf-littered ground for her tracks, that he felt Mother. Her call came from afar, a rapid collection of images and sensations that he interpreted into curiosity. Where was the girl, she wanted to know, and when would he come back to her? Soon, Mother, he sent back to her in much the same way she had communicated with him. Their bond was growing increasingly stronger day to day, much like his inhuman abilities. She accepted his answer with a hint of impatience, and he knew he must quickly return to her with the girl.
As Mother withdrew her voice, he returned his attention to the task at hand. As he'd suspected, the girl had left a trail a blind man could follow. She couldn't have gotten far; she was wounded, and, he suspected, not accustomed to strenuous travel. He could locate her much easier, however, through his heightened senses. He closed his eyes, and forced his awareness outward, away from the clearing, rushing through the trees. He could feel the life all around him; could distinguish between plant and animal. He extended his reach to the grasslands, but in all of what he encountered there was nothing human; no trace of the girl. He released a sigh and opened his eyes, coming back into his self. He had just covered an area larger than any regular, healthy person could traverse in one day. She could not be any more than a few hours ahead of him; he surmised then that for some unknown reason, she was in fact invisible to his senses. That fact, combined with the effectiveness of her magic on him, troubled him. It seemed Mother was correct. The girl was, indeed, a threat of some sort.
He took one more careful look at her tracks, memorizing the size and shape and taking their direction into account, before he began to run. He stopped frequently to ensure he was still on the trail. In a short time he was clear of the forest and back on the open grasslands. Her trail was easier to follow now, and he moved with swift assurance. For several minutes he continued this way, until something unusual brought him to a halt. Her trail entered an area where the grass was flattened in a bizarre pattern. Upon closer inspection he realized they were Chocobo tracks. There was no further sign of the girl's passing ...
Which meant that somehow she had managed to catch a Chocobo.
Sephiroth furiously recited every expletive in his extensive vocabulary. Riding a Chocobo, the girl could now travel at a speed that rivaled his own. He began swiftly surveying the ground all around him, and found what he was looking for. Chocobo tracks, headed to the north. He knew she wouldn't be returning to Midgar, and therefore her only other destination could be Kalm. He was certain she had never set foot outside of that accursed city until he had taken her from it; she would want to reach the closest source of civilization. His lips set in a grim line, he began once again to sprint across the ground, increasing his speed to an almost uncomfortable level. He may be able to intercept her; he was positive she had no real indication of the layout of the land. She would be riding over hills, and valleys, and those would slow her down, even with a Chocobo. He altered his direction; he would take the low route. It was filled with considerably more hostile creatures than the high road, but they would prove no threat to him.
When he caught up with her, she was going to regret her decision. Most assuredly.
.x.
The idea had come to Aerith in the middle of the night, when she had been awoken, shivering, by the damp chill of the night air. It was risky, but she really had no other choice. She knew he was more than human, supernatural in his powers, but her materia was special and unusual in itself. She kept it secured within a small braid at the base of her neck, often woven into a larger braid. Carefully, noiselessly, she moved her body as though shifting in sleep. She could see Sephiroth to her far right, head down, back against the trunk of a large poplar tree. She doubted very much he was sleeping; he didn't seem to need the things most people did to function properly. She kept her head pillowed on one hand while the other worked at freeing her small materia from its braid. It fell into her palm, marble-sized, warm and pulsing slightly, and she instantly felt comforted and almost secure. Cradling it in her palm, she eased it out before her. Sephiroth hadn't moved. Noiselessly she began to chant the words for a simple spell, directing the power towards him. It seemed almost ludicrous that this should work, but this was her last resort. She finished her incantation and held her breath for long moments. He still did not move, but his breathing, barely audible over the soft crackling of the dying flames, seemed to have deepened. Gathering all of her resolve she began to move, slowly, warily. Her body was stiff and aching, but she remained silent as she came first to a crouch, and then to her feet. Sephiroth did not stir as she took first one hesitant step away, and then another. A twig snapped loudly beneath her foot; with her heart in her throat she became absolutely still.
His head fell further onto his chest, hair sliding over his shoulders as he sighed. He was asleep, deeply so. For a moment she stared at him, at the way his face lost its harsh arrogance, at how he seemed almost a different person. She shook her head a moment later and turned on her heel before beginning to painfully make her escape. She couldn't manage much more than a brisk walk, for pain was lancing down her shoulder and throbbing violently in her side. She stopped and gripped the materia which she still held. She could ease the pain somewhat, enough that she could travel normally for a short while. The knowledge that Sephiroth could wake any second and that he could subdue her again without any effort made her both frightened and nervous. Murmuring a swift incantation, she numbed her body enough that all she felt was slight discomfort. Tucking the materia securely into the front pocket of her dress she began to run at an awkward pace as to not jar her injuries further. As she picked her path carefully through the trees twigs tangled in her hair and scratched her face, and twice she tripped and fell over fallen trees. By the time she reached the edge of the forest she was panting and exhausted, but the sight of the grasslands heartened her. Cloud and Tifa had spoken of going to Kalm after they left Midgar, and though she knew very little of the areas outside Midgar she did know Kalm was to the north. Doggedly she began to run, stopping often, in that direction. She had paused at the rise of a small hill to catch her breath when movement from the plains below caught her eye. A flock of wild Chocobos were grazing not far away, and suddenly an idea came to her. Elmyra always said she had a way with animals ...
Catching one was easier than she had thought it would be. They hadn't fled at the sight of her; rather, they had flocked to her side, making their distinctive sounds. She wondered if perhaps her mysterious materia had anything to do with their behaviour; they were affectionate and jostled each other for her attention. Choosing the one of the larger ones out of the group, she set about attempting to get herself astride its broad back. She hadn't enough strength to launch herself that high, and she was at a loss for something to stand on. The Chocobo stood still as she made attempts to leap onto its back, watching her with what she swore was amusement. Finally, as if sensing her exasperation, the large bird lowered itself to the ground. Elated, she climbed aboard and lodged herself between its wings, stroking the soft feathers on its neck. It warbled softly and she decided to let herself enjoy this moment, this experience. She had seen Chocobos before, but they were always tame and never wild. She had never in a million years dreamed that one day she would be riding a wild one across the grasslands ...
The memory of just why she was riding one across the grasslands flooded back to her, and her elation faded. A little flustered about how to get the bird to take her where she wanted to go, she experimentally exerted pressure with her left leg. The bird, instinctively moving away from the pressure, moved to the right. She grinned, tightened her hold on the bird, and gave it a little kick. It took off with a squawk and a lurch that almost unseated her. Quickly growing accustomed to its awkward gait, she guided it with her legs to the north. As the forest and Sephiroth fell behind her, she gave herself over to the experience and enjoyed the wind caressing her face, and the novelty of the animal beneath her. The bird carried her tirelessly for quite some time; occasionally it would slow to spend a few minutes pecking at the ground or drink from one of the small bodies of water that they encountered, but at her gentle insistence it would continue on its way. They passed through a valley surrounded by large, rolling hills, and just as the sky was beginning to darken she caught sight of a cluster of lights in the distance. As they neared, she could see the lights belonged to a village, and excitedly she urged the Chocobo on a little faster. She let the bird slow to a halt not far from the gathering of buildings, and slid from its back. Her muscles, unaccustomed to sitting astride a bird, protested the move. Her magic had worn off sometime earlier, but she had been unaware of just how much her body hurt until asking it to move. Leaning against the bird she allowed herself a moment to gather her strength before giving the bird an affectionate pat on the neck. It warked at her, bobbed its head, and began walking back the way it came. She turned to regard the lights before her; this must be Kalm, and this was where Cloud would be. Slowly, painfully, she began heading towards the village.
As she entered the perimeter of the village she looked around in open curiosity. It was quaint and scenic even in the dying light. The streets were blue cobblestone and the buildings were uniformly made of white and grey brick. There was a two-story inn at the entrance to the village; Aerith realized that that was most likely where Cloud and his companions would be. From out of the shadows of a small alley nearby a fat grey cat emerged; purring loudly, it stopped to rub itself against her bare legs. With a small smile she knelt and began to stroke the soft hide. She had always loved felines, but they were very seldom seen in the slums of Midgar. The cat, content, leaned against her as she worked her fingers deep into his fur. Suddenly it became playful, and swatted at her hand. Chuckling, she allowed the cat to tackle her hand and gnaw on it with somewhat sharp teeth. A noise across the street sent the cat scurrying away; Aerith looked up to see the door to the inn open, and several people arguing in loud voices spilled out into the street. She straightened, watching them, when suddenly a head of flyaway blonde hair caught her eye.
Cloud! She stepped forward and opened her mouth to call out a greeting—
She was seized suddenly around the waist from behind; a split second later a hand clamped over her mouth. She was hauled with astonishing speed backwards, into the shadowy depths of the alley from which the cat had emerged. She knew who held her, and she twisted and tried to bite her way past the hand over her mouth. Her shouts were muffled and too quiet, she knew, to be heard. She screamed and yelled until she was out of breath; she watched in utter dismay as Cloud and his companions, still bickering noisily, walked past the entrance to the alley without looking her way. She heard her name spoken as they passed by and she took momentary hope in that fact. Then the sounds of their voices faded, and she was left suddenly very alone with the man she feared than most anything else in the world.
"You're either very foolish or very stupid," he said in a deathly soft voice, leaning so close that his lips brushed her ear as he spoke. He tightened his hold around her waist so that it pressed against her ribs; her whimper of pain was thoroughly muffled by his hand. Just as suddenly he released her, his palm leaving her mouth, whirling her around with a hand on her shoulder. He was an imposing shadow, a contrast of white against black and the brilliance of his green eyes stood out like a beacon. Those eyes were narrowed dangerously now as he regarded her with blatant anger, and she swallowed nervously.
"Which is it? " He demanded. "I think it's both. You were a fool to think I wouldn't find you, and stupid to try it at all. Although," he paused, and when he continued his voice was mocking, "Catching a Chocobo was something I never thought you'd think of, let alone accomplish. I must give you credit for that."
Her breath left her in a furious hiss. One moment he made her fear for her life; the next he was ridiculing her. Never in her life had anyone made her feel as pathetic, as insignificant, as he. She yearned to claw those remarkable eyes from his face; to rip that arrogant expression from him. So caught up in her rage was she that she unconsciously took a step towards him. He smiled then, a condescending curve of the lips, as if he knew what it was she was thinking and feeling.
"Foolish, " he said again. "Few people have made me angry and survived."
"Kill me, then," she snapped.
To her astonishment, he threw back his head and laughed. "Such bravery!"
Unthinking, she lashed the only way she could. Snatching the materia from her pocket, she held it before her and began chanting quickly, urgently. It began to glow brilliantly white and Sephiroth's eyes widened at the sight of it. Before she could finish what she'd started, he struck out with one arm, and the materia went flying from her grasp to land with a chiming sound some feet away. He caught her wrist and, wrenching it, drew her roughly closer to him.
"So," he said almost casually, "that's what you used on me. Once again, girl, you take me by surprise."
Helpless tears of frustration burned her eyes and she fought them back. She pulled at his grasp; he retaliated by pulling her so close she could feel his breath against her cheek.
"But this is the last time," his voice was dangerously serious. "I promise you, you won't get the opportunity again."
He pushed past her, and still holding her by the wrist began leading her from the alley. "Where are we going?" She asked of him desperately, struggling to keep her voice even, to keep from screaming her anger and fear. He didn't glance back, but replied over his shoulder. "To the inn. I rented us a room for the night."
For a moment she considered fighting with everything she had; would it be enough for her to get away, to flee to the welcome safety of Cloud and his friends? Even as the first tears spilled over she knew it wouldn't, knew that whatever little freedom she had experienced would be the last. Sephiroth would not be caught unawares again, and she bowed her head against the bitter defeat she could no longer deny.
She could not escape. And she was certain that wherever he was taking her, it boded ill.
.x.