Chapter 4 – Magdalena

Now I knew what it was like to piss "Mother" off. Admittedly, her annoyance at my rebellion was a source of endless entertainment for the six years I was in stasis. I didn't need to go mad or anything and the telepathic shrieks of her through my being made me chuckle. I would have been bored otherwise; the Lifestream was a terribly dull and slow thing.

Served her right, holding me back as she did. She realized that destroying the planet would destroy her too. Parasites have an uncanny sense of self-preservation. I should know, as I had been one while my wounds were being healed. I had a better understand of Jenova now that I had been like her... become thine enemy sort of logic.

But she did get her revenge on me. Not something that would make me truly angry, what power did she really have against me, but more an annoyance. An annoyance that popped up while I was tracking Strife down. A resonating force, a feeling like sand in one's eye.

She had brought the Cetra back. How crude.

So, I spent the next few years trying to track her down. One would think that a tiny little half-Cetra would be easy to find... but her appearance must have changed. That, and she didn't contact any of her "friends". I had located them without any trouble, even if most of them had chosen anonymity over fame.

I watched Strife for a time, waiting for the Cetra to run to him, as he would have been who she would think of first. Three months later and no sign of her. I was looking forward to that reunion; seems Strife had gotten himself married. To some Wutain lady... she looked oddly familiar, too. But alas, no drama. It was rather boring watching him; when not fighting, my toy is a very dull person. Killing him now would be a mercy.

And what sort of reputation would that bring me?

So, I moved on to Lockhart. Girls did tend to sit around and giggle together, didn't they? Well, whatever reason I had, it yielded no results. She was even more boring. Though she had kept training over the years, she took care of a large number of children. Evil spawn.

Valentine was fun to watch for a time. Until Lockhart infected him. Then he might as well have been Strife. Though, when they argued, the fools, I did get some entertainment. Seems Valentine doesn't turn red when angry... he turned kind of bluish. And Lockhart liked to throw things. Especially sharp kitchen utensils.

I tracked them all down, one by one, discovering everything about the Cetra's past in the process. I knew her mother's name, the fact that she had a brief affair with Zack, never flew in an aircraft of any kind, was allergic to shellfish... many things. None of which resulted in where she was. Humans never had any good information, I had learned. How tiresome.

It was unfair. Gaia had given me a flower, and I dutifully smashed it between the pages of a book; preserving her as mine for all eternity. And Jenova took her away, and gave her back to Gaia again.

And no, I was not acting like a spoiled child. I had every right to her.

By chance and through my own experiences did I discover her location. It was two events that led me to where I stood now. The first being a drunken conversation with a courier in one of Mr. Reeve's many franchised fine ale establishments. And the second being the fact of my name; Azrael.

She had changed her name. I didn't know why I hadn't thought of it sooner.

So, after following the sod back to the respective small town, I was at a mill. Awaiting some lady who went by Manakel. Who may or may not have been that blasted Cetra.

Judging by the screeching banshee before me, I had found the proper girl. But Gaia be damned, was she ever loud.

A good thing that she was so small. One hand was all it took to silence her. Hopefully, she wouldn't bite; saliva was such an icky thing. And I'd rather not bleed again, if it was possible. The first time had been entertaining; any following would just be annoying.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't make so much noise," I said to her, swallowing the chuckle as she stared back indignantly, "You'll wake the dead at this rate." An image of Valentine bolting upright in his bed seized me. I couldn't contain that chuckle.

She bit me. Saliva was just so slimy. I was vaguely repulsed.

Despite this, though, I kept my hand firmly on her mouth. I needed to find something to gag her with for the moment. I could have simply killed her, but what was the sport in that? Besides, she was angry with me. It was entertaining.

And had I ever been bored for the past ten years.

I glanced around the room. Nothing. Not even a damn ribbon in her hair. She still had that flowerlike quality to her... but she dressed rather prudishly and kept her hair like an old woman. Trying to be normal, weren't you, Flower?

I tore off a piece of fabric from my coat—a new one, in my new favorite color, stupid Cetra—and used it to bind around her mouth. I changed my grip to her wrists, no telling when she might resort to slapping again, and admired my handiwork.

From the neck up, she was a vision. Her green eyes were bright and vivid with her anger, and wisps of hair that escaped her bun framed her slightly rosy and gagged face. Ah, the dark green went nicely, a good new favorite color indeed.

If only I could get rid of those damned prudish clothes of hers. Flowers belonged in appropriate vases. At least she'd lost the ghastly pink, it was rather unflattering. But she was practically dressed in a flour sack.

Ha, right, she worked at a mill. How very resourceful.

"Mmmph! Mmm. Mm m mmmm!" she protested. Flower doesn't like the staring? Well, it was time for us to be off anyways. So I hoisted her over my shoulder and made my way to the exit. She kicked at me as I unlocked the door, so I set her down again. I needed rope if I was going to be able to carry her off effectively.

Ah, this place had some of that. Too thin to make a good gag, but just right for binding little Cetra ankles and wrists. I made quick work of that, seeing to it that she couldn't thrash around while I got us out of this small town. Small towns always made me uncomfortable. I was born in one.

'Spawned' is a more appropriate term.

So she spoke. I wondered why she was silent for so long. Of course, with me moving about all of Gaia, I could block her better. Though the actually physical link between us had been broken, she could still project her mental tentacles into my mind. Sometimes. I hadn't been in stasis for six years for nothing.

I was the veritable invincible man. Except I wasn't a man. Or a god. I was Azrael.

But I couldn't dwell on that. The sod was standing in front on me, Flower was protesting her muffled threats in my ear and I felt the beginnings of a migraine coming on. Wasn't I supposed to be immune to that sort of thing? Well, it was still morning, and 11:30 am is as good a time as any commit murder.

"You can't get away with this! You can't just walk off with Mana—"I cut off his protests with some steel to the gut. It bothered me how humans couldn't simply see it when their purpose was done. They lived too excessively.

"I'm afraid you've expired, my dear sod," I said for no particular reason to the now corpse. Flower's protests were more high pitched now. I wiped my sword on her awful sack dress. Hmm. Red looked rather good on her. Much better than pink.

"Well, my little flower, I suppose you want to know where I'm taking you?" I hadn't talked much with anyone besides the various souls I'd freed from life and Jenova, so it was rather fun talking with my pet. Especially while she couldn't talk back. I would eventually give her the right to speak, but not until I showed her...

She needed to know at what cost she had been brought back. I need to redirect her anger to Jenova. I had done her a favor, preserving her like that. Death was a wonderful and far less painful existence... it was this "normal" life that was making her suffer. And I wasn't the source of that. Jenova was.

Not that I wanted a happy flower or anything. She'd wilt. I just wanted to focus her power... it was somewhere, hidden under all that flour. A flour covered flower... what an image. I laughed at the hidden pun... eventually I'd tell her all about my little amusements.

"We're going to the Midgar Ruins, Flower," I continued, nearly wanting to hum to myself, "I have a surprise for you." I smiled, I simply had to. When she saw the error of blaming me... ah, it would be a good time. Put Flower's thorns to a better use. My purpose.

And wouldn't it just be...

No, no I needed to save that idea for later. My list of things to do was fairly long now that item one was done. I had my Gift... now I only had to leave a permanent mark before I left this horrible piece of rock.

Oh Avalanche... you didn't realize how much you helped me, did you?

AN: Sephiroth first POV is the most fun thing to write, besides Cid. I really connected with my inner sociopath. And I know... still no romance. It'll happen when it happens. Please don't bug me about it.