Growth
of a Warrior – By Ashford2ashford
Disclaimer: No
own-age of Final Fantasy or these characters is present, although
Shido Chibi might be considered a little original.
Rating(s):
PG-13 just because of language
Pairing(s):
Vin/Older Cid implied, which is why he's here!
Timeline:
Yeah, kinda after Advent, Dirge, and FF7. Years later.
Summary:
Sequel to "Years later". It has been six years since the
chance encounter with the 'reincarnation' of Cid Highwind
(Shido Haiwindo), and Vincent again finds himself catching up with
the now 11 year old younger one.
Author's Note: This fic
was inspired by a review that MakoRedEyes (check the profile!) sent
to me a while back regarding "Years Later" (another FF7 fic). I
hope Mako continues to draw fantastic images on Deviant ART, and I
hope that I continue to write stuff. NO FLAMES! FOR GOD'S SAKE
I CAN'T STRESS THIS ENOUGH! You got a problem with this, tell it
to your imaginary friend or your freakin' teddy bear, but don't
tell it to me, lest ye be dubbed stupid, especially after this
warning. Yeah. Okay. So…umm…shall I begin?
…
…
Chapter
One – Found You!
…
…
Through Gaia's
cliff's I plunged deeper and deeper into the snow-capped wasteland.
Over scorched desert of Cosmo Canyon I struggled. Over rivers and
brooks, I travelled, forever searching. Grassy fields of Rocket Town
burnt out wastes of Midgar, rough forests of Gongaga, and merciless
climbs in the mountains of Nibelheim.
I never tire, nor do I stop
and think of why I am doing what I am doing. I never cease in this
endless journey across the globe, and only occasionally do I pass the
same place twice.
There is one such place, however, that I do
stop for. Once a year, on February the 22nd, I visit a
small area not too far away from the North Crater, and not to near
the shores off of the Sleeping Forest. Just in a small area, near
where the dragons died.
There is the excavation site on the
shores just after you get out of the Sleeping Forest. It's not
there I visit. I am referring to a place in a field, a place where,
for a change, there is no snow covering it, no people to bother it,
and nothing but unnatural sunlight and warmth (for the air in the
North is often bitter and cold and dead with snow) covering the small
patch there.
It is like a small field; only the field is covered
with dragon bones that the explorers at the digging site haven't
found yet. In the midst if the bones, there is a grave. A grave that
occasionally gets covered in moss and damp, and that is probably
rotted by now.
On the twenty second day of the second month every year, I visit that grave, for it is where the only person to unlock the secrets of my heart lies. It is the grave of Cid Highwind. A pilot, a Captain, and a born leader. A friend and comrade to those who seek adventure in the name of science and destiny.
My only friend.
My story begins here…
…
…
A
brief introduction is in order first I believe. My name is Vincent
Valentine. I am both a demon and an angel. Rather what people see as
an angel of Death? (Cid never believed this, he told me I'd cry
myself to sleep at night if I was an angel of death, because every
time I killed someone I'd cry and repent over it. He had a strange
sense of humour.)
I am an immortal, such is one of my many curses
and sins, and I exist forever where all my comrades die. I say this
because the man, Cid Highwind was once my comrade.
This I
state, because it is a bright spring morning on the twenty second day
of February. The air is still chilled from winter, yet the sun shines
on this place as if spring is poking its head out of the
ground.
Strangely, I don't recall visiting the grave of Highwind
in years. I had been neglecting it somewhat, being in the wrong place
at the wrong times, and being too far away to travel on foot to this
area for the set date. (I never went on any day other than the 22nd
of February, for it is disrespectful of Mr Highwind I believe)
The first thing I am aware of upon visiting today – a few dark coloured roses clutched in one hand – is the fantastic condition of the area around the grave. Instead of the weathering of six years, it looks like time has reversed upon itself in an attempt to clean away the burial ground of Cid. The second thing that crosses my mind is that instead of a broken gravestone, there is now a huge dragon statue where Cid lies buried, along with a few flowers and weapons and candles at its base. It looks beautiful. It looks as though time has slowed and passed and gone backwards all at once.
Then I am aware of singing. Not loud, but quite soft and gentle. The song I do not know – no…have never known. It's to the same tune Cid used to hum. The one he called "Dragoon Lullaby" in memory of a song he recalled from being a child. This time, however, it has words.
"Sleep thy gentle claws, my Son,
Let thy loving
wings caress thee.
Thine eyes will shut gently,
And thy tail
shalt drape over thy cave.
"Think of thy father, my Son,
How
he doth battle for the skies.
Pray let thee think of him,
When
ye shalt looketh upon th' clouds.
"Dream of the flight, my
Son,
The day you'll spread your wings and fly.
Soon you'll
be a Dragoon, my Son,
And th' enemy shalt tremble in your
roar.
"Hush thee, small, scaled one.
Close thine eyes and
sleep.
Soon it will be morning.
And thou shalt fly once
more."
The song trailed off, and I found my eyes wet
with tears. Slowly, I approached the grave to see a tent set up a few
metres away from there. At first, I grew angry, thinking of how man's
dirty feet had soiled this holy area too; tearing down graves and
setting up statues of their false deities (the Dragon).
Then I
saw the blond mane
(ragged as usual, his goggles perched on top of his head, his smile twisted up into a smirk, his gloved hand passing through his hair gently)
and the beautiful
azure eyes that belonged to a young boy of around eleven or twelve.
He laid flowers at the claws of the feet of the dragon, dusted the
statue off gently and then knelt down and clasped his hands together
in prayer.
I stealthily crept up behind him and took a glance
over the young boy's shoulders at the words carved into the statues
base, my heart catching in my throat when I gazed upon them.
SHIDO
HAIWINDO
(Cid Highwind)
"He Belongs to the Skies now"
"Cid." I murmured, suddenly startling the small one, who picked up a spear from the grave/statue and spun around with lightning fast reflexes, pointing it in my direction. When his azure eyes met my crimson gaze, a flicker of recognition passed through him and he smiled gently.
"Vince." He spoke in a soft tone, mixed with a growl that was beginning (imagined) to form. He laid down the spear and smiled a boyish smile that spoke of pride and adventure.
For the past six years…this is where he'd been.
…
…
Ashford2ashford: Yep. I end it there. Simply because I've run out of time on the PC and wish to at least submit something before I go! This is the re-birth of my FF Series.