Chapter Seven: Homeland
"Damn it!" Barret's cry echoed into the air for the fifth time and met with only the heavy silence of the jungle around him. Nanaki growled in frustration. It was hardly Barret's fault that the Harad-Zun were nowhere to be seen, but his repeated shouts and curses were not helping.
They had departed in the morning to Gongaga and arrived several hours later in front of the ruined jungle town. But they had not been able to find any trace of the Harad-Zun either among the charred remains of the town or in the surrounding jungle. What frustrated Nanaki was not that they had not run into the Harad-Zun, for he was not entirely eager to do so, but that they had no clue to the location of their enemies. Yuffie was searching through the ruined buildings one more time, in hoping to find some small clue, but Nanaki could already guess at the result of her search. It seemed that, aside from burning down the town and killing half of its inhabitants, the Harad-Zun had left the area entirely untouched, which was impossible. They had camped in the ruins of the town for a week, but no evidence showed. Nanaki quickly glanced over at the satchel crudely strapped around his back and saw the comforting yellow glow of the single huge materia he had brought with him. Though his original intent had been to use it against the Harad-Zun when he ambushed their camp, he now realized it was much more likely that the Harad-Zun would ambush them.
Looking around, Nanaki saw Barret wander into the ruins of Gongaga just as Yuffie emerged looking shaken and disturbed. Sighing, she shook her head grimly.
"It's pretty clear that the Harad-Zun meant us to find those bodies. It seems like they were trying to give some kind of warning by destroying Gongaga. And I know there's a clue around here somewhere; we're just not finding it."
Barret could be heard again from the debris, cursing angrily.
"What kind of bastards would do something like this to an innocent person?" he raged. "When I find those sons-of-bitches, I swear, I'm gonna… Hey, what the hell? You guys, check this out!" Nanaki and Yuffie hurried over to where Barret stood in the middle of a ruined building, staring at a piece of paper pinned to a half-collapsed wall.
"'It's not over. Come to Wutai.'" Nanaki read aloud. "So they meant for us to find it then. It's obviously a diversion." But Yuffie suddenly seemed to recall something.
"Harad-Zun…Haradin…Why didn't I think of it earlier? Even the descriptions match! We have to get to Wutai quickly."
"What the hell?" Barret asked.
"A long time ago my ancestors in Wutai fought many battles with a tribe of warriors who called themselves the Haradin. Thirty years ago, after a major battle in the Da-Chao mountains, they completely disappeared. A note was found on the battlefield with the words 'We will return', but no trace of them was ever found. I think they really mean something. This isn't just a diversion; I have a really bad feeling about this."
Nanaki weighed his choices carefully. He was reluctant to leave the canyon for something that could turn out to be a false lead, but these Haradin sounded too similar to the Harad-Zun to be coincidence. And if they're not in Gongaga and not in Wutai, then where are they? he wondered. He knew that they would not find any other leads, and he supposed that taking a chance would be better than sitting around in Cosmo Canyon and waiting for the Harad-Zun to regroup and crush them.
"We'll go," he said aloud finally. "But where can we get a plane?" Yuffie smiled.
"Follow me."
Several hours later, Barret shoved his way through the bustling crowds that filled even the smallest streets of the Gold Saucer with Nanaki at his side, trying not to lose sight of Yuffie. The young ninja slipped through holes in the crowd that neither Barret nor Nanaki could even find, and occasionally had to double back to make sure they were still following her. Barret tried to hide his irritation. The Gold Saucer was hardly his favorite place, and Yuffie was not his ideal companion. After half an hour of weaving back and forth through the smaller passages of the Gold Saucer, Barret had the urge to break something. It didn't take this long to get from the entrance of the Gold Saucer to any other part of it, but Yuffie seemed to be avoiding all the main passages. She had even insisted that they take an alternate route into the Gold Saucer, using the sewer tunnels of all places, to avoid the main entrance. The girl is definitely hiding something, he thought as he glared at several passing visitors who stopped near him, doubtlessly wondering where the stench was coming from. And I don't trust her at all.
They had returned to Cosmo Canyon, and then driven back to North Corel with the surviving Corelians. Barret had stopped to pay his respects to those who had fallen in battle, and to say goodbye to Marlene and Elmyra, both of whom had followed him back to Corel after the destruction of Midgar so long ago. He did not know how long he was going to be gone, but he intended to fight the Harad-Zun, or Haradin, as Yuffie now called them, until they no longer posed a threat to Cosmo Canyon or Corel. After he had made his farewells, they had taken the Corelian Cable Jet to the Gold Saucer, where Yuffie said she could get a plane.
Barret found himself standing at the end of the passage, gazing into an even more crowded walkway. He caught a glimpse of Yuffie in the middle of the crowd, and began to shove his way towards her. His steel gun arm and Nanaki's menacing growls were enough to keep most people out of his way, and for the first time since they had arrived, he caught up with Yuffie before she vanished entirely. Yuffie seemed in a hurry to get going, for she darted away as soon as Barret and Nanaki drew close. But Barret had reached the limit of his endurance. He grabbed Yuffie by the back of her shirt and hoisted her into the air.
"Hey, that hurts! Lemme go!" Yuffie struggled to escape from his grasp, but Barret cut her off.
"You're gonna stop this right now, y'hear?" he shouted, letting loose all the anger that had accumulated over the past half hour. "Can't you walk at a goddamn normal rate like the rest of us? If we had just taken the main streets we would have been there twenty minutes ago, goddamnit! If you–"
But here Barret paused, for he heard the voices that Yuffie had been frantically trying to get him to notice.
"–five hundred thousand gil."
"You're right, it is her."
"You radio the captain and get some more men. I'll stay on her trail." A hulking man dressed in the uniform of a Gold Saucer guard emerged from the crowd and began striding purposefully towards them.
"Lemme go! Lemme go!" Yuffie said again, her voice growing more frantic by the second, and Barret reluctantly consented. The news that Yuffie had committed some kind of crime here confirmed his suspicions, and only made him angrier. But he knew that if Yuffie was caught, they would have no way to get to Wutai. Holding back his anger, he darted after her into the crowd.
After several minutes of frantic scrambling, they came to a stop underneath one of the colossal rollercoasters in the Saucer's Speed Square. Yuffie looked puzzled, trying to figure out how to get to the plane from their location. Barret stormed over to her and glared her straight in the eyes.
"Alright Yuffie, what the hell did you do?"
"N-nothing, really! They just think I'm one of those bandits who I told you about before! I promise! Okay, okay," she added, in response to Barret's suspicious glare. "I didn't buy a ticket last time I came. But that's all! Seriously!"
"Yuffie," Nanaki warned, a hint of a growl in his voice.
"Well," Yuffie added reluctantly. "There was this one vault which was easily accessible through the same air vent that I used to get in…"
"I knew it! I goddamn knew it! Is it possible for you to even be in the same city as something valuable and not take it? Damn it, Yuffie, you have to learn some goddamn tact!" Barret shouted, and Yuffie winced, both because he had just rammed his fist into the wall six inches from her head and because she had heard the voices of several guards, not far away.
"You hear that?"
"Yeah, that's a restricted area. There shouldn't be anybody in there."
"Let's check it out."
"Okay Yuffie, which way to the plane?" Nanaki asked hurriedly, for the sound of footsteps was getting dangerously close. Yuffie simply gestured for them to follow.
Ten minutes later they finally emerged into a huge chamber filled with small personal planes. Yuffie quickly scanned the lot and pointed straight ahead, at the Tiny Bronco. Barret was quite surprised to see the battered old plane. When he had returned to Corel after Sephiroth's death, he had heard that Cid was planning to repair it, but wondered why the hell the pilot, who was a sensible person most of the time, had given the plane to Yuffie, of all people. Then again, he thought, knowing Yuffie, he might not haven given it to her at all. Barret's memories vanished as he heard guards running towards the parking lot. All three of them climbed into the plane, and as Nanaki lay down on the back seat, Yuffie fumbled around in her huge bag.
"Let's see, where's that key? I know it's in here somewhere…"
"Quickly!" Barret hissed as the footsteps grew louder.
"Ah, there we go!" Yuffie finished searching and started the Bronco just as guards spilled out into the lot. They fumbled for their machine guns as the plane headed for the open air at the end of the runway, slowly gaining momentum. There were a few short bursts of gunfire, one of which barely missed Nanaki's head, before the plane finally soared out over the great desert surrounding the Gold Saucer. Glancing back over her shoulder, Yuffie smiled at Barret and Nanaki, both of whom were sighing with relief.
"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"
It was evening by the time the city of Wutai grew visible in the distance. Although seven years ago it had been a small town, Wutai had grown almost as much as Neo-Midgar had, and was now the second largest and wealthiest city in the world. Lord Godo still ruled the city as Wutai's strongest warriors always had, but his power over the whole of Wutai was now only ceremonial, and only its northern reaches, nestled into the lofty Da-Chao mountains, still followed the ancient traditions set down by the rulers of the Pagoda generations ago. Most of the city was embracing the modern styles popular in Neo-Midgar, and the Wutaian language had vanished even in the north. Yuffie was no great advocate of the ancient traditions of Wutai, they were far too formal, but the city's transformation still made her sad. The Wutai that she knew and grew up in had vanished; it was only a shadow of the past, and Yuffie felt guilty, as if her six year absence was the reason for the changes. The old town and the Pagoda won't have changed, she reassured herself. At least something will be the same after all this time.
But Yuffie felt no relief as the Tiny Bronco drew nearer to the northern part of the city. She could already tell that something was amiss as the plane glided lower and lower, passing ornamental gardens and richly decorated buildings. Though the rest of Wutai was always crowded and active, the northern reaches of the city were usually quiet in the evening. Now they seemed even more filled with frantic activity than the modern areas. Yuffie gasped as she saw trails of rising smoke against the fiery red light of the setting sun, and only a minute later her worst fears had been confirmed. The glorious Pagoda of the Five Gods, which had once stood tall in the center of Wutai's old town, was now only a smoldering ruin.
Yuffie veered the plane around and landed hastily. As she stepped out of the plane, followed closely by Barret and Nanaki, sounds reached her ears that had been previously obscured by the roar of the engine: the sounds of a city in chaos. Urgent orders and pleas could be heard everywhere, and people were nearly tripping over each other in an effort to get water to the burning Pagoda. The screams of the wounded and the cries of relatives, the shouts of soldiers, and the hiss of dying flames all blended together in Yuffie's mind, swallowed by the ever-present crackling of the blazing Pagoda, hundreds of years of Wutai's history and culture devoured in what seemed like an instant.
Two figures hurried across the courtyard towards Yuffie and her companions, and the red light of the blaze fell over them, illuminating their features. With the possible exception of Lord Godo himself, Chekhov was the most powerful spellcaster in Wutai, and was recognized as the wisest of Godo's four disciples. His companion was unknown to Yuffie, but quite an imposing figure, over six feet tall, a height rarely reached by Wutaians, and with the bulk to match it.
"Thank goodness you're here, my lady," Chekhov panted, "The Haradin have returned, and we also have a rebellion on our hands. We fought them off, but…" He trailed off, gazing at the charred ruins of the Pagoda.
It was only then that Yuffie took in the scene around her. She had been completely preoccupied with the blaze, and had not noticed the mangled bodies all over the courtyard. Chekhov's robes were torn and blood-smeared, and he was limping slightly. His companion had several thin slashes across his face and tattered shirt, and his right arm had been hastily wrapped in a blood-soaked sling. Barret and Nanaki were inspecting the bodies, and Yuffie was left alone facing the two Wutaians, completely speechless.
"Where's dad?" she finally managed, still struggling to process everything that had happened. Neither of them replied
"It was Staniv," Chekhov said hesitantly. "He betrayed us, and attacked the Pagoda only an hour ago, declaring himself the rightful Lord of Wutai. He was backed by a disorderly band of rebels, the ancient order of assassins called the Shadow Fists, and the Haradin, who somehow managed to get hold of guns." Chekhov winced as he said this, and the other man looked down at his ruined arm with a scowl. Modern weapons were frowned upon in traditional Wutai, which made it even worse that the Haradin had acquired rifles. They now had a clear advantage over the Wutaians, whose army had been disbanded after the war with Shinra twenty-three years ago. "One of them destroyed Tsoyu's arm, and another would have killed me if I hadn't managed to slow it down. But that's not the worst of it. Staniv now commands over two hundred rebels and at least two hundred of the Haradin."
"And Godo?" Yuffie asked urgently, fearing a reply. "Where is he, Chekhov?" Chekhov looked down, avoiding her gaze.
"I'm sorry, Lady Yuffie," The man called Tsoyu said slowly. "Lord Godo is dead."
"No! That's impossible! He's the strongest warrior in Wutai!" Yuffie's denials were met only with Tsoyu's stoic expression and Chekhov's bowed head, and she stumbled backward, tears welling up in her eyes. "H-how?" she managed finally.
"A bullet hit him in the hip. He couldn't move, but he killed all of the Haradin who tried to move in and finish him off. Then Staniv picked up a rifle from a dead Haradin, and shot him in the chest from five feet away. I failed to stop him." Tsoyu hung his head. "A dog has more honor than that accursed traitor!" he scowled.
"What about the others?" Yuffie asked urgently, trying to take her mind off her father. "Gorkii and Shake, where are they?" Chekhov regarded her levelly.
"Gorkii was an old man," he said finally. "He died four years ago." It was not an accusation, but Yuffie suddenly felt horribly guilty for leaving the city. She was grateful when Chekhov spoke again. "Tsoyu took his position in the Pagoda. And Shake– Shake's dead." Chekhov's voice began to falter. "We found his body in his house after the raid, filled with enough poison to kill ten men."
"Where is Godo now? I want to see him." Yuffie asked, breaking the long silence that followed Chekhov's news.
"We fought to protect his body." Tsoyu replied. "Eventually, the rebels retreated into the Da-Chao mountains. They fought just long enough to cripple us, to make pursuit impossible. We took Lord Godo's body back to his house. If you wish, my lady, I will take you there."
"No. I want to be left alone," Yuffie said flatly, and turned away to hide her tears. Confident that neither of them would try to follow her, she began to walk out of the square. The sun had now set, and the only light in the courtyard was that of the dying, flickering flames of the Pagoda, all that remained of the once glorious structure. And as Yuffie reached the edge of the square, they too gave a last dying hiss, and were gone.
"It's the Harad-Zun alright," Barret said as he looked down at the corpse of the green-clothed warrior with a scowl, a torch clutched in his good hand to penetrate the darkness that had settled over Wutai shortly after their arrival.
"Yuffie was right, then," Nanaki said from behind him. "But why? It isn't a diversion, because they are really here. They didn't spontaneously decide to attack Wutai instead of Cosmo Canyon; they wanted us to follow them. I don't understand it."
"Neither do I." Barret shook his head. "But let's get back to Yuffie and the others. Maybe they got some news for us."
But as they approached the center of the square where they had left the Wutaians, they found only Chekhov and his companion, both of whom were frowning worriedly into the distance. Following their gaze, Barret saw Yuffie walking slowly out of the courtyard, barely visible in the darkness. He moved to stop her, but Chekhov motioned for him to be still.
"Don't follow her. It is a difficult time for her." Barret looked at Chekhov questioningly, and the man sighed. "Her father is dead. A group of rebels and Haradin led by Staniv attacked the city, and he was killed in the attack. The town has suffered a terrible blow. Our leader and one of our greatest warriors are dead. We have less than one hundred men to fight the invaders, who could return to destroy us whenever they wish. News of the attack has not yet reached the south, but they will underestimate it as they do everything; they will think it is merely a petty feud among their rustic northern cousins. We are alone in this battle, and the morale of the men is low. The only thing I don't understand is why they didn't finish us off when they had the opportunity. If they had fighting, they would have surely killed us all, but they chose to retreat into the mountains right after they broke our main defensive line."
"I get it, " Barret said, grimacing, "It's no diversion, it's a trap. They got the advantage when they're up in the mountains, and they got more men than us. All we can do is wait around till they attack again or attack them in the mountains. It's suicide either way."
"Godo used to say the best way to disarm an enemy's trap is to walk into it when you know it's there," Chekhov's companion said thoughtfully. "The odds are still in their favor, but it's a better strategy than simply waiting." Chekhov shook his head sadly.
"I'm afraid it's impossible. We have less than a hundred fighters in the city, and neither Tsoyu nor I are in any condition to keep fighting. Godo's death has demoralized the men. You could try, but I fear the two of you would be alone."
"Yuffie will fight," Nanaki said. "She will not let Staniv live with her father unavenged. And with Godo's daughter leading them into battle, the men will surely follow, to whatever end."
"Will you talk to her?" Chekhov asked, almost pleading. "She told us not to follow her, but I'm sure you could make her understand how much we need her, how much Wutai needs her." Nanaki nodded grimly.
"I'll do what I can," he said, and disappeared into the night.
Barret had no doubts that his friend would be able to convince Yuffie of the urgency of the situation. What he did doubt was Yuffie's ability to inspire the soldiers and lead them into battle. She was never serious enough, never able to concentrate on anything without getting distracted. But then Barret recalled the sadness and repressed anger in her eyes when she gazed into the flames of the Pagoda. She had not followed or even spoke of the ancient traditions that the building had symbolized, but for once he could for once understand how she felt. Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie, the original members of Avalanche, had angered him with their constant demands for pay, and he had not even noticed how much he cared for them until they were dead. Yuffie had acted against her father's will countless times to do what she wanted, and now he was gone, without even giving her a chance to apologize. Barret shook his head. Jesus Christ, what's gotten into me lately? Sympathizin' with Yuffie? It's gotta be the first time I ever done something like that.
Suddenly, Barret realized that Chekhov and Tsoyu were still standing close by, apparently waiting for him to speak. He looked away again and felt the silence grow awkward. How am I supposed to talk to a Wutaian? he wondered. The only Wutaian I know is Yuffie. I don't know anything about Wutai. Hell, I don't even know if they speak another language here or something. Still, though, I gotta say something. After a long pause, he finally came up with a question.
"What I don't get," he asked the Wutaians, "is who the Haradin really are. We fought them back in Cosmo Canyon, but they called themselves the Harad-Zun for some reason. Everybody around here seems to know who they are, but nobody seems to know why they're here. Can somebody tell me what the hell's going on?" Chekhov nodded and cleared his throat.
"The Haradin are the original inhabitants of the Da-Chao mountains. Back then the Wutaians lived in small, uncivilized villages in the southern reaches of the continent. Under the visionary leadership of Tailon, an ancestor of Godo, the Wutaians undertook a giant exodus. Tailon claimed he had been sent by the god Leviathan to lead the Wutaians to their destiny. Whether or not he spoke the truth, he brought our people religion, culture, and most importantly, inspiration. The area in which they dwelt was mountainous and desolate, so the Wutaians headed north. Finally they came to the slopes of Da-Chao, where established the town of Wutai. Tailon immediately ordered the construction of the Pagoda to thank the gods for protecting them on their journey. It stood their for the next three hundred years and more, surviving through even the harshest times, until now…" Barret looked closely at Chekhov, and saw, to his surprise, that the man was crying. Brushing tears from his face, the Wutaian continued.
"Our first contact with the Haradin was during the rule of Konaze, Lord Godo's father. He claimed that another offering had to be made to the five gods who had favored the Wutaian people in the form of five giant statues carved into the mountainside. Only one statue was completed before the workers were attacked by the Haradin, which began the war. For decades we fought back and forth, with neither side gaining much ground. Konaze claimed the mountains were sacred to Leviathan, and that it was Wutai's destiny to take them, but the Haradin held their land fiercely. Strange legacies of their stay still stand in the caves of Da-Chao, undying walls of flame guarding hoards of precious gems. The Haradin were not content merely to reclaim the land they had once controlled; both sides were now locked in a perpetual struggle, with neither willing to give up until the other was destroyed. Meanwhile, construction continued on the rest of the statues. Three more were completed during Konaze's reign, leaving only the most ambitious, that of Lord Leviathan himself, to be built. The tide of war shifted in favor of the Haradin, who soon controlled all of the mountains, and began to launch raids against the outlying villages and even Wutai itself. Konaze died in single combat with the Haradin leader, and disheartened by his death, the Wutaians lost their will to fight. It looked like the war would be over in weeks, if not days.
"That was when Godo, who was only twenty-six years old, took command of the demoralized Wutaians. The leader of the Haradin who had killed Konaze was rumored to be even younger. Godo realized straight away that his father's plan for the statues was too ambitious, and used the hundreds of thousands of gil set aside for Leviathan's statues on food and weapons. Under Godo the tide of was shifted again, and the Haradin were pushed back into the mountains. Wutai was on the verge of victory. Finally, Godo defeated the Haradin in a climactic battle on the slopes of Da-Chao, and they fled deep into the mountains. No trace of them was ever found, save for a note at the site of the final battle, with the words 'We will return.' This was thirty years ago. We never saw the Haradin again until tonight. Godo never ordered the construction of Leviathan's statue, but kept the others up, as a reminder of the price of ambition.
"I suppose I should mention that our enemies had the strangest honor code I have ever of. When they our razed villages, they would slaughter everyone: the women, the children, the elderly, and those who tried to flee. But if a warrior fell prey to ill luck during a battle, the Haradin would never strike when he was defenseless. It seems their culture emphasizes skill in battle and respect for the powerful, whether they are one's friends or enemies. But they did not have the same respect for their enemies tonight. Like the rest of the world, they have exchanged tradition for power. Honor has vanished from everywhere but Wutai, and with Lord Godo's death, our days are numbered. Soon, the world will have forgotten it altogether."
Yuffie gazed solemnly at the altar on which her father's body had been placed, her mind filled with memories. Godo looked much older than when she had last seen him. His hair had only contained several gray strands when she left the city, but now it was completely white. Lines of stress and worry creased his brow, and Yuffie imagined his pain at seeing the city he and his ancestors had worked so hard to build slowly slip away, while she relaxed and hunted for materia in Mideel. You could have been there. You could have done something. The voices in her head challenged her, and even though she knew she could not have stopped the modernization of Wutai, she could not hide behind excuses. Not now that he was dead. You could have seen him, talked to him, listened to him for once, instead of vanishing into thin air and destroying his life's joy. Yuffie recoiled from the unspoken accusations, tears forming beneath her eyes. She had intended to eventually return to Wutai, but always put her plans off for later. There was always something she had to do, and the time had passed so quickly. But now there was no more time; she had come too late and everything had changed. A cry of anguish escaped from Yuffie's throat, and she beat her fist against the altar in frustration, then collapsed, sobbing, her face cradled in her father's lifeless arms.
"Yuffie." The word came from behind her, and Yuffie spun around instantly, clutching her shuriken. She relaxed at the sight of Nanaki, and the weapon fell from her hands and clattered on the floor below. Suddenly Yuffie seemed to lose all of her energy, her despair and fatigue finally catching up with her.
"Go away," she said sullenly, hanging her head. "I wanna be alone." Nanaki didn't move.
"I know today has been hard for you, but you cannot give in to despair. The soldiers are demoralized; they need a leader. They need you, Yuffie. The Haradin could attack again at any minute, and we cannot allow ourselves to fall prey to hopelessness, or we cannot win this fight. Please help us. I don't just ask for myself and Barret, but for everybody in the city. Wutai needs your help." Yuffie raised her head and stepped towards him angrily, her cheeks stained with tears.
"You say Wutai needs me? Look at the city, Nanaki, and tell me they all know who I am. Don't lie to me." Despair settled in once more, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "They don't even know he's dead. He worked so hard to build this city, defeat all of its enemies, and they don't even care. It'll be in the newspapers tomorrow, recorded as some kind of a minor revolt among the old-fashioned northerners. It'll be forgotten in a few days. Why should I fight for Wutai? Look at what it's become!"
"Godo could see that the city would never be the same, that the people would not thank him for fighting the rebels. He knew that whatever the outcome, the people of Wutai would not care unless it affected them personally. But he chose to fight anyways, to defend what he had created even if it cost him his life. My father died fighting hordes of Gi warriors, protecting all those in the canyon who could not fight. He made Bugenhagen swear not to reveal any of it to me, because he did not want me to give in to despair. He chose to have me think of him as a coward rather than know the truth and feel only sorrow. And Godo would have wanted you to do the same thing, Yuffie. He died so that you could live on and continue his work. He would have wanted you to take revenge on Staniv instead of despairing and waiting for death. The surviving warriors have lost confidence, and only you, Lord Godo's daughter, can restore it. Help us defeat the Haradin once and for all, and ensure the safety of Wutai."
Yuffie's eyes filled with tears, and she walked over to where Nanaki stood on the steps and sat down next to him.
"Thanks, 'Naki," she said, looking up into his face. "It's just that… time seemed to go by so fast. I thought Wutai would never change, but instead it changed the most."
"I know," Nanaki replied. "I always thought that, whatever happened, Bugenhagen would always be there to manage the needs of the canyon. When he died, I didn't know what to do. The world puts a lot of responsibility on us sometimes, and it doesn't slow down for anyone. Everything's always changing, and you can never go back. You just have to learn to endure."
Yuffie nodded resolutely and stood up again, wiping the tears from her eyes. Suddenly she turned back towards the entrance, smiling.
"You can come out from behind that wall now," she said. Nanaki turned around in surprise as Tsoyu stepped into the doorway looking extremely embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, Lady Yuffie. I was bringing some relics we salvaged from the Pagoda here for safekeeping and–"
"The rest of you, too." Nanaki's eyes widened in astonishment as Barret and Chekhov also came out from behind the wall and stood behind Tsoyu, with their eyes on the floor, the walls, or the ceiling– anywhere away from Yuffie's face.
Yuffie almost laughed as she saw the disbelief on their faces. Barret, Chekhov, and Tsoyu must have thought they were completely silent, and Nanaki was surprised that she had heard something his augmented ears had not.
"Don't be ashamed," she said lightheartedly. "I've eavesdropped on all of you many times before." And for a moment, as she delighted in the amazement of her companions, she felt that perhaps nothing had changed, recalling all the times that Cloud and the others had held meetings on the Highwind and never bothered to tell her. It had always puzzled them how she knew exactly where they were headed even though nobody ever told her. But almost instantly she brought herself back to the present. There was not much time, and many things to be done.
"How many men do we have, Tsoyu?" she asked, her voice serious again. "How many are willing to fight for Wutai? We must attack early tomorrow, and everything has to be prepared." Gorkii looked away, as if ashamed to reply.
"I'm afraid it is not good. Many men were killed in the attack, and–"
"How many?" Yuffie asked again.
"Eighty at the most." Seeing her shocked expression, Tsoyu added "I'm sorry, Yuffie. It is our fault. We could not defend the city properly, and many lives were lost. Even I cannot accompany you, because of this wound in my arm."
"I will heal you, though my side prevents me from coming with you myself," Chekhov said. "I can at least help by allowing you to go into battle to avenge Godo and all the others who lost their lives tonight."
Tsoyu thanked him graciously, but Yuffie's mind was still on the number of soldiers. Only eighty men? she thought incredulously. Staniv and the Haradin have at least four hundred, and probably more. How can we even consider fighting back with such a disadvantage? It would be suicide for us and any soldiers we bring with us. But then she looked over at Barret and Nanaki, and saw only determination in their faces. They knew the odds they fought against, but were willing to risk their lives regardless. And isn't that what father used to say? she realized. The Haradin won't expect us to attack immediately with so few men. Even if they do, it's worth a shot. There are no lives at stake that would not be at risk if we wait until the Haradin attack the town again. Composing herself, she addressed Tsoyu.
"Take me to the warriors. They must be motivated if we are to strike successfully tomorrow." Yuffie began to walk towards the doorway, but would have collapsed on the floor if Tsoyu had not caught her. Glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece as she struggled to pull herself up, she saw that it was already past midnight. The time had gone so fast, and she realized that her frantic worrying had drained her energy completely. Still she pushed herself out of Tsoyu's grasp and headed for the door, but was held back by Barret .
"Don't worry 'bout it, Yuffie," he said solemnly. "You go get some rest, now. We'll talk to the men."
"It's my duty to Wutai to show myself to them. They have to see me, to know that I'm serious about this. Let me go."
"It's your duty to Wutai to be able to lead the warriors into battle tomorrow, and for that you need to sleep," Chekhov replied. "You can speak to the men in the morning. Besides, we must rise early if we are to catch the Haradin by surprise."
Yuffie nodded reluctantly, and stumbled off to her room, her head filled with doubts about the coming day. Will they even follow me? she could not help but wonder. Will these warriors, these veterans, be content to take orders from a woman much younger than them who didn't even obey her own father? If I have to, she answered herself, I'll do it myself, with my materia as my only ally. Yuffie collapsed on her bed and was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, her mind for once untroubled by dreams.
Akhamir gazed out over the lofty peaks surrounding the frozen valley deep in the Da-Chao mountains. The hail that had fallen over the mountains as they retreated from Wutai had now ceased, and left the night sky completely clear. But the unexpected improvement in the weather did nothing to improve his mood. At least his men had left him alone. Those who had not been assigned to guard the valley's entrances were either resting in the numerous caves that dotted the walls of the canyon, or milling about on the larger ledges, talking, trading, and sharpening their weapons. But the two people who angered him the most had chosen to sit on the same ledge as himself. For what must have been the hundredth time, Akhamir turned to face the cave mouth behind him and considered finding another location.
Thousands of endlessly crisscrossing tunnels, hollowed out ages ago by massive burrowing worms, connected the many ledges that protruded from the canyon's steep cliffs. It was possible to get lost in the winding tunnels for hours and find nothing but dead ends and sheer drops. But Akhamir and several of the others knew this gorge well; it had been a major Haradin stronghold in the days before their exodus from the mountains. All the passages leading to important ledges and caverns had been carefully marked years earlier, and Akhamir even had some memorized. Only a few abandoned trails led to the valley, making it an ideal location for a hidden camp.
Akhamir sighed as looked longingly into the tunnel, wanting both to get away from his unwanted companions and to relive his childhood dreams of exploring the caverns in search of precious gems. But he would have to wait. Both the Marksman and the Wutaian were perched on the edge of the cliff, looking out over the frozen mountains, but they would surely notice if he left, and he wouldn't put it past either of them to take it as a personal insult. Too much was at stake to risk shattering fragile alliances because of personal dislike.
Staniv sat on the southern ledge, perhaps looking out over the mountains bordering his hometown, where he had lived all his life, and betrayed his ancestors only hours earlier. His men were gone; where, Akhamir could not tell. Most of them were common rebels, filled with bitter hatred towards their home, but the small group of warriors who called themselves the Shadow Fists were different. They seemed to come and go as they pleased, vanishing into and out of the shadows. From what Akhamir could tell, there were less than fifty of the warriors, but he did not doubt their skill on the battlefield, nor that of their commander. Akhamir watched the brooding Wutaian suspiciously, his gaze inadvertently dropping to the man's arms, which were thankfully now only arms. He thought he was imagining things when he first saw the man leap into the fray, his arms changing instantly into curved steel swords. The next time Akhamir looked over at him, Staniv's arms transformed into a pair of fanged vipers, which instantly struck at the throats of two nearby Wutaians as if they had a life of their own. From what little Akhamir understood of the Wutaian language, the Shadow Fists referred to him as 'Weapon Change,' but he had not thought to interpret it literally.
It wasn't only because of Staniv's unnatural powers that Akhamir mistrusted him. The man was Wutaian, born and bred as an enemy of the Haradin. Even though he seemed to have a deep hatred of the ruler of Wutai, Akhamir could not bring himself to trust the man. He was almost sure Staniv would betray them as soon as they captured Wutai, but could not take the risk of offending him, for fear of angering the man to whom he answered, the same foreigner who had commissioned the Harad-Zun to attack Cosmo Canyon. Akhamir wished he knew more about this Maxwell, who was a complete enigma to the Haradin. All that he knew of Maxwell's motives was that he wished to have the huge materia, and to have Nanaki and his allies killed. But neither Staniv nor his mysterious commander were the true objects of Akhamir's anger. His eyes narrowed as they crossed over to the northern end of the ledge, where the Marksman sat, staring out at the icy peaks.
The Marksman embodied everything that Akhamir disliked about the new generation of Haradin. In many ways he was responsible for the changes that had come over the tribe, which he brought with him when he first stumbled into the fortress eight years ago. He had replaced their ancient religion and traditions with technology and news from the modern world. More and more young Haradin were trained with rifles as their first weapons, and the honor of the Haradin warrior was vanishing along with his traditional weaponry. When the aged lord of Wutai, probably the same one who had fought so nobly against Zarkhan when they were both young, was shot in the leg, many Haradin warriors had tried to kill him while he lay at a disadvantage, which would have never happened before the Marksman's arrival. Even the guns themselves, which allowed an unskilled child to fell the greatest warrior, were violations of the code set down years ago by the fathers of the Haradin tribe.
Akhamir sighed again as he realized how much had changed. He was the oldest of those who had returned to Wutai, at nearly fifty, and the only one who had been old enough to fight alongside Zarkhan in the final battle with the Wutaians. Some of the men with him had been born in Da-Chao, but most of them had never set foot in the lands of their fathers, and did not care to uphold the tribe's traditions. Many of them trusted the Marksman's leadership more than his, even though he was more than twice the man's age and had seen many more battles. Akhamir was not even sure how much Zarkhan remained true to the old customs; though he did not doubt the wisdom and leadership of the Harad-Zun chieftain, he feared that his friend had begun to believe the same idea that had seized many of the young warriors: victory by any means necessary. And Akhamir was prepared even to disobey his chieftain's command if it strayed too far from the code he had always followed and still did.
But even though he did not trust the Marksman in the slightest, Akhamir had to take orders from him. Even though he knew the mountains better than any of the others, it was up to the Marksman to decide when and how to attack. He was the only one in whom the foreigner Maxwell confided; the only one who knew the full extent of the man's plan, and what exactly the terms of their agreement were. Akhamir knew he would have to follow the Marksman's commands, no matter how ridiculous they were, or risk the wrath of all the young gunmen who idolized the man, Maxwell, and his numerous allies. Akhamir noticed that the Marksman had turned his gaze towards him, and realized he had to say something to break the awkward tension building up between them.
"So what do we do now?" he asked, walking over to where the Marksman sat, his loose battle scarf flapping in the wind.
"We wait," the man replied, and turned his gaze to the distant peaks. "In the morning, they will enter the mountains. We will be ready for them."
"And what happens then?"
The Marksman slowly turned his stare to Akhamir, his cold green eyes fixed intently on the older man's face, as if wondering why anybody would ask such a stupid question. Finally he turned away, his eyes returning to the mountains. The simplicity of his reply almost made Akhamir pity Nanaki and his allies.
"Then we kill them."