Cetrahawke Chapter 8, a final fantasy vii fanfic

Chapter 8

"Rough night tonight..." muttered one of the gate guardsmen, a younger man with soulful green eyes and a long nose, as he looked up at the turbulent night sky, flashes of thunder illuminating dark cloud to a deep purple and violet for an instance. Strangely, though, despite the raging storm above, there was still no rain. He leaned back against the stout oaken door at the West Gate of Aquila. "Makes a man think those rumors about the Bishop are true."

"Heh, that's not for you to worry about, rookie!" grumbled his companion, a ruddy-faced older man with wispy white hair and a pockmarked expression. He glanced at his subordinate meaningfully with his dull brown eyes. "Be careful what you say." he warned. "Tis not a good time for complaints these days." He heard the clamor of chocobo claws and wagon wheels coming up the road. "Straighten up now, someone's coming!"

The two guards approached a broken-down old wagon being drawn by a large, fine-looking black chocobo. The bird caught their eye, being rare, but everything else about the newcomers seemed plain and common. An old man with a wrinkled, pudgy face decorated with a bulbous, red nose and squinting nearly black eyes brought the chocobo to a halt at the gate. Besides him was a figure wrapped up in cloth, unmoving.

"Good evening to you, honorable guardsmen!" boomed the old man. "I hope the night finds you well!" He nudged his companion, still hidden under the cloths. "See, you thought we couldn't make the trip by morning! You owe me a flagon at the first alehouse we see!"

"Who are you, and what business have you coming to the city so late?" demanded the older guard.

"I am the monk Marcius, of the Junon Temple. We come cross continent on pilgrimage, and decided to stop and honor the Bishop of Aquila, a man we have heard much of, at the Sacred Blessing on the morrow." He gestured back to the wagon. "We bring a humble gift as well."

The old guard gestured to his young companion. "See what it is."

The green-eyed youth pulled back the tarp. A black wolf growled at him, causing him to fall to the ground. "By the Cetran God!" he cried.

"Don't worry, he's well contained!" laughed the old monk. "All ready for the wolf hunt we had heard the Bishop planned!"

"And what about this one..." muttered the older guard. He moved to the side and he looked over the wrapped-up individual. "What are you hiding!" He pulled back the top of the wrappings, uncovering a beautiful, emerald-eyed angel with cascading golden brown hair. "Well, well..." he muttered admiringly.

"Yes, she is a beauty, isn't she?" agreed the monk. "Shame about the leprosy, though..."

The ruddy-faced guard drew back with a hiss. "Leprosy!" he cried, alarmed.

"Yes, my sister's child, poor lass... was engaged to a local lord, but of course with the onset he called off the liaison. Still unwed, even now! You young bucks wouldn't be single, would you?"

"No, no!" cried both guardsmen, shaking their heads. "We've both got wives, I assure you." continued the older one.

"A pity..." muttered the old man. He looked at the pretty girl. "Seems you're on my hands for a while longer! Perhaps we'll find you someone here in Aquila!" The girl smiled wryly at him, but made no comment. "Anyway, we're hoping the Blessing may cure her!"

"The Bishop's Blessing..?" whispered the younger guard contemptuously. "Good luck..."

"What was that, my son?" asked Imperius. "I don't hear so well, anymore..."

"He said nothing!" broke in the older guard, giving his companion a warning look. "Well, you and the infirm girl may enter, but there's no way you're bringing a wild beast into the city!" He drew his short sword and strode back to the wolf. Neither guard noticed the brown-haired maiden tense up and grab the old monk's arm fiercely.

"Well, that's your decision, my good man!" boomed the gray-haired old man. "Of course His Grace will be disappointed, having been promised the liberty of killing the beast himself by my old friend Father Minwu of Junon! But I'm sure he'll overlook your effrontery. He's such a forgiving man, after all..."

The ruddy-faced guard stopped and looked at the wolf nervously. He swallowed hard as he thought of just how forgiving the Bishop could be. "Very well, then..." he muttered. "Wouldn't want to clean up the mess, anyway! Head into the city, but stay out of trouble!"

"Wisdom is a rare gift from the Cetran God, my son! Be thankful that you have been blessed with it." With a satisfied smile the old man drove the wagon into the great city of Aquila. As the wagon drove over the cobbled streets, neither guard noticed a slim, small shadow crawl from underneath the wagon and climb down silently into the Mythril River running through the city...

"What do you mean Baigan has not got them in custody!" raged the Bishop, his anger overwhelming him. "They are a flower girl and a lowly squire! How can they possible elude all of my forces!" Throwing down his lector staff, the Bishop banged his hands on his oaken desk. He stared up at the servant cringing before him. "Is Hojo still here!" he asked, breathing heavily in his fury.

"Y-Yes, Your Grace..!" stammered the frightened servant.

"Bring him before me. Now!" The servant turned to run out, but was stopped by a white-clad man with long, stringy black hair falling down over a handsome, if cruel looking bespectacled face.

"No need." whispered the newcomer Hojo to the servant. "I assumed His Grace would have need of me. You may go." The servant nodded nervously and scurried out of the room. "How may I be of service Your Grace?" Hojo asked, his tone deceptively sweet.

"I have been told..." the Bishop swallowed hard. "That you are able to accomplish particular things which others dare not even attempt."

Hojo adjusted his glasses with a small, wry smile. "I do have certain abilities, that is true Your Grace."

The Bishop stared hard at him for a moment, then turned and stared out an ornate window reflecting the early morning sky throughout his well-kept private office. "I stand before you as the most powerful man of the Central Plains. Yet now one lowborn thug has tricked the one person I love dearest into betraying me." He turned back to the devilish-looking minister. "The shame is too great. I cannot allow this to go unpunished! She must be made to understand she belongs to me alone! And he must be made to suffer for eternity for daring to touch what is rightly mine!"

Hojo nodded, his tone calm, almost bored. "Truly, young ones today do not have the proper respect. Allow me to spare you the pain of telling this entire tale, I am already aware of it. Just tell me, how serious are you about this matter? Say I offer you the chance to... discipline these two... what price would you be willing to pay?"

"I would give my immortal soul itself..." the holy man whispered, the dreadful impact of his words gleaming in his eyes.

"Just what I needed to hear..." murmured Hojo. He produced a small black jewel from his white robes. "Take this. It is a magic crystal born of the legendary Black Materia of Jenova. This will grant you the means to take your revenge!" He held it out to the Bishop.

The holy man reached for it, but then stopped. "It won't permanently harm her, correct? Seeing him dead would please me greatly, but her... I just want to make her come to her senses... she must still be mine one day!"

Hojo smiled blandly. "There is a mighty curse here. Half will land on each of them. The day she comes to her senses and returns to you, all will fall on him. Then you may do as you please, of course." He handed the Bishop the crystal. "But remember Your Grace... though Jenova is absolute, her power comes at a high price. This land may wither as she gathers her strength... it may prove a difficult time for your people."

"Let her do what she wishes with the peasants!" the Bishop cried. "There are more than I have need of! Thin the herd as you will!" Another thought occurred to him. "This curse will be truly unbreakable until she repents, yes?"

Hojo nodded. "It will last forever, as long as there is day and night, until you have received what you desire."

"Good. Then I accept you terms."

"As you wish. Your newfound faith to the true deity is appreciated." He bowed to the Bishop. "At your death you will be brought before Jenova herself to receive your... just reward."

The Bishop waved off his words, his gaze and concentration intent on the black jewel in his hand. "Yes..." he whispered. "I can feel the power here!" He raised his arm holding the jewel high. "Grant me that power, Jenova! Lend me thy strength, Calamity! Make them pay for what they have done!" The jewel in his hand glowed and blazed like an inferno. The Bishop laughed at the feeling of power, and held his hand even higher in the air. Finally the power ceased and the deed was done. The dark crystal in his hand pulsed harder and began to grow. Under the surprised eyes of the holy man it assumed the shape of a Wutaian style katana blade. The Bishop slumped to the ground exhausted, looking in awe at the weapon he now held in his hand..

"Well done." congratulated Hojo, a small smile on his face. "You have given them a punishment they won't soon forget."

The Bishop hefted the sword in his hand. "What is... this?"

A gift for you from the True Goddess, Jenova herself." He gestured to the blade which the Bishop began to swing lightly. "A symbol of the pact you have made. All the faithful carry one. It is based on the legendary Masamune, most ancient and powerful of weapons."

The Bishop looked at the sword warily. "I know little of weaponry." he admitted.

"He who wields this blade shall have the strength of the greatest of warriors, even equal to the Great Sephiroth himself." The Bishop began to slice through the air deftly, as if he was a finely-trained swordsman. "You must carry it always. When the time is right, you will know when to use it..."

"Your Grace, the Cathedral is prepared for your entrance." The voice of his subordinate, bowing low, broke the holy man out of his reverie.

The Bishop looked at himself in his mirror, admiring his fine robes. His hand involuntarily went to the sword concealed underneath. Though he wasn't sure why. he had followed Hojo's instructions and never took off the weapon. Its presence seemed to both terrify and exhilarate him, but he could no sooner throw it away than his own arm. The Bishop looked back impatiently at the still-bowing servant. "We will begin when I am ready!" he declared harshly. "Now go!" The servant left the room, leaving the Bishop once again to his own dark thoughts.

Yuffie swam through the familiar, half-submerged tunnels of the Aquiline catacombs, her ninja sense leading her back to the spot of the grate of the Cathedral. No elfadunk skulls attacked her this time, but still she felt incredibly nervous. So much was riding on this! She simply could NOT fail!

She climbed the old well reaching up to the grate, the colored light from the stained windows and the vigorous chanting of the faithful assaulting her senses. The ninja looked out upon reaching the top and was surprised to see the Bishop marching to his spot at the altar in the front of the cathedral. Yuffie drew back in the shadows until he moved on. Peering up again, she began to work on opening the grate.

Unfortunately one of the clergy stepped directly on the grate and did not move, having selected the spot to stand during the Blessing. Yuffie rolled her eyes in frustration. She pushed up on the grate fiercely, causing the man to stare down in surprise, but still he did not move. Finally, with a grimace, Yuffie used the sharp point of one of her shuriken to jam into the man's foot. He jumped up with a cry. Another priest standing next to him looked at him strangely. The priest went over to him and whispered, "mice!" Yuffie suppressed a grin.

She worked the grate off, and while all eyes were on the front where the Bishop began the Blessing, hopped out stealthily, and hid behind a huge marble column. She grabbed a forgotten white robe, and draping it over herself approached the doors to the cathedral, which were being locked up by members of the Bishop's Honor Guard. Yuffie sighed in frustration. This just couldn't be easy, could it?

"I can wait no longer, Imperius." declared Cloud. "The mass will be over soon. Your plan has failed."

"Please, a little longer Cloud!" implored the old monk. The two were hidden under a tarp near where the wagon was parked. The hawk perched silently on Cloud's materia gauntlet.

"Dawn has come and gone. It is a normal day. Just like yesterday was, and tomorrow will be." He looked sorrowfully at the old man. "I had hoped you were right, but there is no more time to waste. I must confront the Bishop alone."

"Cloud, please a moment longer! This chance will never come again!"

Cloud nodded. "That, at least, is correct. It's now or never." He turned back to Imperius. "Listen to me now, priest, for these may well be my last words. I go now to attack His Grace, the Bishop of Aquila. He is well-guarded, and I may die this day. If this service ends peacefully, and the bells of the Cathedral begin to toll, then you will know that I have failed."

The wizened priest's face grew sad. "But what of Aerith..?"

Cloud sighed heavily, pain marring his handsome, if proud features. "I beg you..." he began, the words choking out of his throat with difficulty. "Take her life... if she remains a hawk... quickly and painlessly..."

Imperius looked aghast. "I could never do that!" he declared, in horror.

"Yes you can. And I beg it of your kindness and the love I know you have for her." Cloud stared at him intently. "It would be cruel to doom her to this half-life, forever denied the light of day that she loved so much! You know that as well as I!"

Imperius looked at the ground and shook his head. "I can't do it..."

"Father..." the monk looked up at Cloud. "Have you ever considered that this was God's plan all along?" Imperius looked at Cloud in disbelief at that thought, but said nothing.

The blonde warrior handed him the hawk and mounted Sleipnir nearby. "I leave it in your hands now. I thank you for your kindness to Aerith and I, and I forgive you your sin." He bowed to the priest and galloped off towards the cathedral.

Yuffie surreptitiously made her way to the locked doors of the cathedral. The Honor Guard had moved to the front with the Bishop. She removed the longbolt, and began to work at the various locks. One in particular, slightly rusty, would not open. "Come on..." she whined, as it held firm. One of the guard then noticed her actions and moved to apprehend her. "Damn..!" muttered Yuffie. "Well, Lord Leviathan, it's now or never!" She applied all her strength to the lock, but still it did not move.

The guard came upon her, his sword drawn. He raised the blade for the killing stroke. Yuffie's hand left the lock and she backed up against the great doors a look of fear on her face.

The blade was blocked suddenly by what looked like a golden clawed hand. The hand struck out, smacking the sword from the surprised guardsmen. Forming into a fist, the golden arm struck the guard hard across the face, knocking him out instantly.

Yuffie looked to her side, seeing a tall, dark-haired man, his features hidden underneath a crimson scarf, the color the same as a long cloak which covered his whole body. The odd interloper turned to the ninja, his inhuman red eyes causing her to gasp. He handed her a key. "Use this to open the door..." his voice was as quiet as a whisper, but the tone was still quite penetrating.

Yuffie took the key, still gaping at the man. "Who are you?"

"My name doesn't matter. Cloud approaches. Let him in so there can be an end to this." Another honor guard began to approach from the aisle. The red-cloaked man looked back at Yuffie, his eyes narrowing. "Hurry now! And tell your friends to beware! There is more to this than just the Bishop's obsession!" His golden arm glinting with the colors of the Cathedral's stain-glass, he leaped up into a nearby balcony and disappeared.

"So mysterious..." whispered Yuffie in awe. Then she saw the next approaching guard and went back to work on the door with the key her enigmatic savior had given her.

Cloud made his way to the Cathedral doors where a cadre of knights stood guard. They eyed him warily as he approached. He lifted his gauntleted hand in greeting, and calmed his mount.

"In the name of the man who was your Captain!" he cried out in a confidant tone. "And who, in the name of justice, must be avenged, I ask you to let me pass!"

Perrault approached, his weapon drawn. "Squire Cloud Strife!" he declared. "I have my orders to..!" He never finished his sentence as Cloud knocked the blade from his hand and put that of the plain sword Yuffie had "acquired" for him earlier to his throat, gesturing for him to back off. Perrault, with a grimace, did.

Cloud looked around at the rest of the faces, some of whom he had known in the past. From the looks they wore, it was clear they would not stand against him. They had respected their fallen Captain and didn't think much of his replacement. And nearly all of them had been on the receiving end of the Bishop's arrogant and unreasonable demands. The rumors had begun to circulate as of late about various atrocities the Bishop had committed as well. There was little love left for His Grace in Aquila. Cloud hefted his sword in salute to his old comrades, receiving an answering gesture from many of them. Others, like Perrault, glowered at him, but seeing they were outnumbered, did nothing to stop him. Cloud cantered to the Cathedral, keeping his new weapon ready. The knights have may have let him pass, but the Honor Guard would be another story...

Yuffie saw the advancing Honor Guard bearing down on her. "Dammit!" she yelled. "By the Five Sacred Gods, OPEN!" With a shout she put all her strength into her efforts. Finally the key turned and the lock yielded. At the same moment the Guard arrived and made to strike her down with his sword.

The blow never landed, though, as a great black chocobo kicked in the oaken doors. One of the doors struck the man hard on the chin, sending him sprawling to the ground in pain. A black-clad warrior sat atop the chocobo, a plain war sword in his hand. He surveyed the interior of the Cathedral for a moment than looked down at a grateful Yuffie, who grinned at him. Blue eyes narrowed down at her underneath spiky blonde locks as he saluted her with the sword. Yuffie returned it with her hand in a comical manner.

Cloud Strife looked up and saw a familiar, tall white-robed figure at the front altar, gray, baleful eyes peering down at him over a hawkish nose. Rage, the likes of which Cloud had never known before, boiled up in him at the sight of the man. Spurring his chocobo forward, he kept his eyes on the holy man with intense hatred. The Bishop's voice rang out in his mind over and over.