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?

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Chapter Two – Friends Reunited

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Shido Haiwindo…Cid Highwind…

He was a man and a martyr to us all…

Perhaps I haven't been clear as to what happened exactly.

Cid Highwind, master of the skies, builder of miracles, engineer of hope, was what I would dub as the least likely to earn the reputation he did. He was crude, loud, abusive…and yet…there was something in those azure eyes that made you feel that his lectures were similar to a parent, and his manner was something that resembled an old fashioned father – raised on nothing, built on shaky foundations, and generally seeming to be accustomed to the way of the world.

That was Cid Highwind. Chain-smoker, spear user, pilot, and father to us all.

Temporarily, I remember, he was our leader for a time, and he took to his task in the same relaxed manner he did everything! Without hurry and without worry. If one of us dared speak of fears or demons in front of him, he'd lecture your ears off before you had a chance to breathe another word that may or may not have upset the others!

Perhaps this was his way of caring.

He was 32 back then, and later on he was 35 when the other disasters struck.

Cid Highwind…Cid…Cid died on the 25th of December in a hospital bed in Rocket Town. We were all there, the original group, and every one of us compared this to losing our only father. Cloud, Tifa, Barrett, Nanaki, Reeve, myself, and even Yuffie – who had a father of her own, but not one she'd truly call a father – were all present. A part of all of us died when Cid died, but 'Captain' Cid Highwind died with a smile on his face.

"Try not to fuck up anything too much whilst I'm gone…especially you, Spikey…y'always seem to get us…in…trouble…"

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"'…y'always seem to get us…in…trouble…and you Vince…smile…s'not th' end…of…th'…world…' Shortly after that, Cid passed away, falling in a dead slump, all our hands clutched in his, Yuffie crying at the side of the bed, refusing to leave, Cloud wiping away what he was trying to hide, and me…I held two fingers in my human hand and felt them go limp, the light fading from his eyes as another one dear to me left Gaia for The Planet. It had happened so suddenly, so quickly to him, that I don't think he had even realised he was dead, for the smile was fixed on his face.

"Strangely, I saw the reactions of everyone were what they had hidden from Cid all these years, and I realised that he had died without knowing how we truly felt…about him. Barrett, I remember, stepped out of the hospital and fired a few shots into the air, and at that moment, everyone in Rocket Town adorned black, the message clear. Nanaki and Tifa had both lost their parents to tragedy, and Cid had been the support to both of them. He had agreed to take over in Tifa's stead, whispered something to her that we couldn't hear, something that made her smile despite her tears, and then had come out of the hospital and promptly fell asleep on the deck of the Highwind.

"His funeral wasn't until New Years Eve, and we were all solemn and hurting more than we let on by then. We were each allowed to place an item of value on his coffin before it was sealed. Cloud placed his jacket, worn and torn, still faintly smelling of smoke, charred and greased with oil, yet still belonging to Cid even in death – it was the right place for it. Barrett placed his silver decanter, the one with the strange dragon-angel on the side of it, the one he always hovered over his tea when he was sure no one was looking. Tifa placed his goggles, touching the cold body's cool head and soft greying hair as she placed them where they belonged. Nanaki, I recall, had tools in his mouth, hopping up the side of the coffin to place them at Cid's belt, where he felt they belonged, along with Cid's scarf – that now lay across his chest. Yuffie cried as she placed the materia he had always used – Comet Max, Fire max, Recovery Max, etc – at his side clutched in his left hand. Reeve placed a packet of cigarettes behind his goggles, the second of us all to touch that cool dead body, along with his gloves. Finally, I stepped forwards, and with a swift motion of my hands, Cid's right hand opened and his homemade spear, the first one he had ever made with us, was back where it belonged (he had asked me to take care of the Venus Gospel until "the right time"…I confess, I didn't know what he meant).

"A part of us was buried along with Cid's body, and after that…I never saw anyone half as much as I used to, and eventually, I was forced to attend funeral after funeral. Cloud died being reckless during a bout of depression on his motorbike, that struck a blow, and Tifa died only a few years after that, when she had starved herself to death – losing the will to live. Barrett was next to go, Marlene saying something about oil and fumes and pollution, and after him Reeve. Yuffie was after him, now an old woman, and then came the day, 600 years on, that I was forced to bury Nanaki. Everyone left, as everyone always did, and then…only then…was I truly alone."

I slumped down where I was sat and watched the fire die out, as tears as dark as drops of oil ran down my face and over my lips. The last crackling logs began to use up their fuel, and I felt movement at my side.

"You're not alone…Vince." The boy was hesitant, gentle, and his hand brushed my claw arm gently, his fingers sliding across the metal. I stole a glance at his hand and saw the same rough calloused hands, the same dark fingernails, and in my head heard the voice to go with it - "Damnit Vince! You're not a monster! And I don't care shit about this fuckin' arm of yours! It's a claw! You know, people fuckin' use these in battle? People'd pay shit to look like you! Don't you dare give me none of that angst crap, or I swear, as Aerith is my damn witness – ya hear that sugar? – that I will wrap that claw around your mother fuckin' head! Are we clear?" – along with the smell of smoke as the boy held a single cigarette in his soft pink lips, something of a darkening patch of stubble underneath his chin, "You can't be alone. I'm here."

I stared at him, looking into those azure eyes, as I had once done before – "Fuck's s'matter wi' you? I got somethin' on my face?" – and then closed my eyes, unable to look into them anymore, lest I uncover more memories that may hold me as loyal to this boy as I had been to Cid.

"Hmm…maybe I'm not as alone as I think then." It was cold, and it probably came across as cold, for the boy stopped speaking, instead turning his attentions to building a new fire. I watched him work, the way he positioned the wood, the way he took his lighter out of his pocket – "What th'fuck d'we need tinder boxes for? Nothin' wrong with a good ol' fashioned lighter. Helluva lot quicker too." – and lit a smaller piece of dead wood with it, lighting the others into flame with that. He was down on his knees, blowing the wood, urging the flames to spring into light, and then he sat back on his haunches, thoughtful and silent.

"What's the Venus Gospel?"

"W-what?"

The question jarred me, and I was unable to speak as he turned around on his haunches, perfectly balanced, gazing at me with the light of the fire creating dancing shadows across his face, his eyes sparkling with a beautiful blue light mixed with the reds and oranges of the fire. He then cast his gaze into the dancing light again and spoke with soft hesitant words, as if treading carefully around me.

"The Venus Gospel I think it was. I couldn't forget that name. You mentioned that your Cid gave it to you to keep for another day or for when the time is right. I couldn't help but feel…strange when I heard its name. What does it mean? What is it?"

I hesitated and then spoke, "It's…it's a spear. A spear of…great power. It was Cid's pride and joy. It was his power, his light…and…although this is only a speculation…I think it was his soul. It was a spear of Dragoon lore – the Dragoon being a race that died out when Cid died. He was the last of his kind, and he died without knowing if where he came from was where he was born, or where his family were or who his parents of blood were. It was unfortunate for him. That spear was the only clue he had to his race."

"I…I'd like to see it."

"What?"

"I…I want to see it…the Venus Gospel. It…it fills my blood with…a burning feeling…just hearing about it…I need to see it…something tells me…I have to see it…"

I stared at the longing in his eyes and then felt my heart break in two. He looked so far away, yet so determined to see what it was that Cid had entrusted me with as he lay on his death bed – "Th'…th' Venus Gospel, Vince. Keep a hold of it. It's…it's gonna bring someone's soul to life one day. I can…I…I can feel it, Vince. There's someone out there, some day…who's…gonna ask y' about it…someone who deserves it…I…want him t' have it…I want…y'…t' protect it…until then…you got that? If ya don't…I'm…I'm gonna fuckin'…haunt y'! Y' got that?" – with a twinkle in his eye and a smile playing across his lips. He had spoken as if he was hallucinating, suddenly looking very much like a frail old man, with his destiny laid out before him, and the spear was connected to his destiny somehow.

Could this be the person he had spoke of though?

People had asked for it before, how was I to know this was the right person to hand over the life of the Highwind name to? In my heart, the question didn't need answering. This boy…this other Cid…a Cid of many future generations…in my heart I felt the same longing for this boy as I had done for the gruff old pilot…and I knew then, thinking back over what Cid had told me, no, ordered me to do, that this boy deserved to hold what was rightfully his, by declaration of Cid Highwind himself six hundred years prior to this boy's birth.

"It is a spear that requires skill to use." I explained, glancing off into the darkening wilderness around us, "Cid once told me that when the old man of his town gave the spear to him, he said it glowed with an eerie light, and he saw visions of his past, his present, and his future. He said the spear chose him, not he who chose the spear. I wish that old man was still around to explain it to me, explain why he gave Cid the spear, but he died long before Cid did. I guess Cid thought someone else could carry the baton he passed – trying to find out its secrets because he could not."

"Vince…no, Vincent Valentine…I think…I think I need to see the spear. If what you talk about is true, and God, I pray you are an honest man, and if you truly have lived for six hundred years as you claim you have, and have been part of the great warriors which are spoken of in legend, then I think that what you have been implying…is that you think I am he, don't you?"

I didn't reply, but he continued onwards.

"You think that I am Cid Highwind…in another form…and the more you speak of this spear – if it exists – then the more I feel a stirring in my blood that I can't explain. If what you say is true…then I'd believe you until Meteor returned to consume us all. Please…I'm begging you…don't talk in riddles and of old stories long past any longer! Take me to where you have hidden the spear of Legend. Take me to the Venus Gospel. If it doesn't choose me, then I'll walk away. If it consumes me, then so kill me, Vincent. However, if it chooses me, if I am the Cid of whom you speak…then teach me. Teach me how to use it…Vincent-sensei."

And for once in my life…I obeyed…

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Ashford2ashford: Well, the end of what I see as one of my greatest FFVII chapters yet! A lot of story telling, and a continuing story! I hope you all enjoy it! And for gawd's sake! Don't just read it! Review it! I do like to know what people think! If there's anything you think needs changing, then tell me! I'm not inhuman!

See you all around!