Title: Dance
Pairing: none
Rating:
G
Genre: general
Warnings: if you haven't played FFX or gotten
to Kilika DO NOT READ. Part 1 of 4.
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As
she walked out onto the water, the bodies of the dead just few inches
beneath her, he stared at her in wonder. Never had he seen such a
feat to walk on water..was that the sign of someone divine? As she
began to dance against the setting sun, he couldn't help but
imagine her looking straight at him- only at him. As her rod began to
twist and spin, as the people around him began to cry except his
companions he swore he heard the silent tears in her eyes fall as the
bell on her rod jingled.
He noticed the water quake beneath her
feet, was she going to fall? If so, would she continue to dance for
the dead? The he saw it: the pyreflies emerging. Rising from the
wrapped bodies that had been torn and mutilated by Sin, they rose in
an ever ethereal arc, singing softly to her…comforting her?
Sighing? Or were they crying because they were no longer alive and
their families were now suffering? As she spun the rod before her,
staring straight into the sun and as the pyreflies began to pool and
spiral around her. He swore he saw incandescent wings appear at her
back. Folding out once and then disappearing in a shower of few
feathers falling. Just as the first feather hit the water, he was
given a start. The flames from the torches around them…changed.
They were no longer held warmth or comfort in their red and yellow
hues. Now cold and violent, blue and absolute.
It is then when
the pyreflies swarm. He quickly turns back to see them, push her up,
up from the water. His breath is caught as she begins to dance again,
no long slow and full of grace now full of energy and vitality. She
has gathered them, now it is time to Guide them. Almost like the
rockets Zanarkand once held, the souls shot from the water and into
the sky.
He can only stare in silent awe and horror at the sight.
A woman besides him collapses and yet he does not help her. He
does not know her, nor care, now he is watching the beloved Summoner
of Besaid, daughter of Braska dance the dance of death. He feels a
pull at his heart, sadness overwhelms him. He can feel them- feel the
deads cries.
At the end of it all, he decides he never wants to
see her dance like that again. Never does he want to see her spin and
twirl in strange and intricate ways, to see and hear the horrifying
conclusion.