Chapter 11: A Lesson on Impatience
It is a surprise to receive Gaste's letter so soon. Instead of waiting months, like when he was in Wutai, it took merely a a few weeks for him to receive a reply from the man in Mideel. Nevertheless, Sephiroth hopes this means he will hear more from his wandering friend.
Dear Sephiroth
I'm glad you enjoyed the apple and that it reached you in good condition. It is a fruit that is not very well known outside of Mideel. As you suspected, this continent is not well known in many parts of the world. Though it is around the same size as Wutai, there aren't many people who live there and most of the wilderness is roamed by dangerous and strong monsters. The towns people themselves have little interest for what they call the outside world, and are mostly only concerned with their simple lives in Mideel. Though it has a hot spring resort, it is mostly well educated individuals who come to relax away from their busy lives. People who are not privileged or who live far away from this continent would probably not know of it. While there are many who receive a basic education, this education tends to be lacking. Hopefully this will change for the better after the launch of Shinras educational program a few years ago. They send teachers and books to rural areas that have few resources available to them in hopes of improving the education there.
Ah, but I'm rambling. You asked me to tell you about spells. It is an old word that is still used today, but few other than the individuals who study magic truly understand what a spell is. But I shall attempt to explain what little I know. As you know magic is a power capable of changing reality as we know it and though it rarely happens, if magic is unbound, it can be very dangerous and can cause great destruction and generally cannot be used by any living creature. It can be said that instead we must follow a formula which allows us to harness the power of magic, making it controllable and safe for us to use. Spells are this formula and without this knowledge it is impossible to use magic. The death spell I mentioned in my last letter refers to a specific spell which the Destruct materia can cast. If successful it will cause the condition known as instant death, but it doesn't cause any additional physical or magical damage. No matter how many times this spell is cast its effect will remain the same. If you want to use magic with a different effect, a different formula must be cast and there for another spell.
Monsters can cast magic at will without materia, provided they have enough MP, but even they are limited by which spells they can use. These spells vary in property between species, but not between individuals of the same kind. It is thought that the knowledge of these spells are inherently passed on from parents to children. No matter which individual you may encounter, the properties of their magic remains the same because they cast the same spell.
Can humans use magic without materia? It is an interesting question and most people would say 'No, they can't.'. But the truth of the matter is not so simple. Humans are different from monsters. In normal circumstances they are incapable of using magic on their own. Instead they can cast magic with material which monster cannot. But in some cases, often when feeling great anger and in the midst of battle, humans are capable of feats that they would not be normally capable of. These can involve enhanced strength or speed, but sometimes are clearly partially or entirely magical in nature. This means that they may be capable of conjuring fire, water or other elements. There are even those capable of temporarily materialising objects, such as bombs or beasts, which can contain a measure of the strength or power the real counterpart would have. This phenomenon is known as Limit Breaks.
Little is known about the physiology of Limit Breaks, and the only scientific studies have been either case-studies or interviews with worriers who are capable of performing them. But interestingly enough they do not seem to be limited by the amount of Mana possessed by the individual, though there have been cases that suggest that the power may be influenced by it. But this is why people don't tend to think of Limit Breaks as magic. It has been said that certain Limit Breaks can be learned from manuals, but as far as I know there has been no study proving the evidence behind those claims, and it seems that they are unique to the individual. There are many reason why people do not believe Limit Breaks should be considered as magic, but personally I think they are. Limit breaks allow individuals to perform feats that should otherwise be impossible to them without magic. Once an individual has discovered a Limit it's properties stay the same for life. Furthermore, there is always a distinctive glow of power that emanates from the body just like when magic is used. For these reason I suspect that Limit Breaks can be considered the human's natural means of using magic. I hope this answer is satisfactory, though the truth is not a simple 'yes' or 'no'.
My time in the town of Mideel has been beyond what I ever expected. I final met my mysterious source with whom I've been exchanging letters with for months. I'd gotten the impression that they possessed a rare wisdom, so imagine my surprise when this very same person turns out to be a young, fair lady! Her knowledge of ancient history and the belief system surrounding the Lifestream is vast. I have been spending much of my time with her and cannot help but respect her immensely. Ah, youth is wasted on the young. If I were 30 years younger, well… I might have considered spending my time differently…
To my surprise I came across one of my former colleagues from Shinra on my way to meet the young lady. You've met this employee, but I don't know if you remember her. She took care of you before you moved to Midgar. Apparently she was doing some research and is aiming to become a Doctor to advance her career in Shinra. Perhaps you'll see her again one day.
I do worry for you sometimes, Sephiroth. I hope you remember what I told you the last time we saw each other.
Your truly
Gast Faremis
A small, pale finger caresses the inky black words of Gast's letter. A spell is like a formula. It is necessary in order to use magic, which is a power capable of influencing the fabric of the material reality. Or so Gast says, and no doubt many others. It is what they believe, given their limited ability to investigate it.
Remembering what he had sensed in the Lifestream when Veld used materia, Sephiroth suspects once again, that this explanation may be a warped picture of the reality he knows. Not only had the materia formed a conduit, it had also shaped the intention it emitted. In other terms the conduit acts as a mold. The mold being the so called spell, which will keep churning out the same effect.
Experimentally Sephiroth sends his awareness within himself, opening one of his seals and emitting a burst of intent, tasking it to seek its target. There is no glow of power around him. But it worked. He can feel the stinging cold in his palm. Discreetly turning his hand, he glances at the serene field of beautiful but misplaced ice crystals adorning his skin. Closing his fist, he continues to ponder.
Sephiroth can cast at will, is not limited by spells nor does he require mana. The icy water which drips from his knuckles is proof enough. According to Gast, monsters can cast at will, provided they have the mana.
Thinking upon letters and the information his friend revealed on Limit Breaks - another familiar concept to his soul - it would seem, however, not all magic requires mana.
Then what is mana?
The Wutaians had called it chakra, a vital force within the meridians. But what then are the requirements for the use of this vital force? Gast mentions that with increasing power of a spell, the mana consumption increases as well. No doubt a similar concept applied to monsters, however, Limit breaks should - if they are as powerful as Gast and his soul imply - require great amounts of mana. Which they do not. Or at least if the words of his friend are to be believed.
Like many things Sephiroth realizes that perhaps there is something the scientist missed or is not aware of, and if Sephiroth wished to sate his curiosity, he would ultimately have to wait to find out for himself.
Instead he turns his attention to the implication of this new found understanding. He would be careful with his use of magic, though there would be no glow to give him away. He supposed that if he ever is caught he could pass it of as a Limit Break. Adding an extra, pointless glow, should not be an issue.
Interestingly enough, his soul echoed with familiarity to his newly made choice. It must have been something he had done before too, thinks the silver-haired child idly as he moves to reflect over Gast's letter again.
Gast's recounting of his mysterious source causes Sephiroth to pause in suspicion. His friend usually doesn't mention his acquaintances in great detail unless he thinks they would hold some interest to the child. They would remain nameless and faceless and genderless, just like the source had up until this letter. The sense of something being left unsaid is even stronger than before, and his eyes narrow suspiciously at the 'well…' passage. The attempt to divert attention to the assistant he used to know - but couldn't care less about - makes it even more suspicious to Sephiroth's mind.
Alas, the mystery would have to be resolved, once again, with time.
In spite of this acceptance, the boy can not help but feel a spike of impatience at the notion. How much longer will he have to wait for his answers?
…
Quietly the strange boy engages in his ritual of Cloud watching. Staring out the window at the somber swirling vortex outside, he dwells on heavy thoughts.
The world is not so simple that people understand it or know the truth to the illusionary depths of reality. Hojo's bluffing is no longer enough to fool Sephiroth into thinking he has a clear understanding. And for all of Gast's humble wisdom even his knowledge is cracked and warped in the face of the world that Sephiroth perceives.
The child is not surprised by his abilities. They are his own and come naturally to him. But for every moment of this life that passes he learns more about how differently the world appears to him and his surroundings
He does not wish to be like others, but neither does he particularly desire to be different. Such a quality seems merely to attract unwanted attention.
He has never forgotten Gast's warning in their last parting. The boy trusts this old mans reasons and intentions. Perhaps he had his suspicions on the boy's nature and knew how the crowds around him would react to the individual that is Sephiroth, if they had fathomed the true extent of his abilities.
So the boy does not flaunt them and instead keeps a firm hold of his discretion. But some things Sephiroth cannot or does not know to hide.
Whatever small differences the public eye sees in him, they seem to fear. The child knows. He can smell it, see it in the way they freeze as he briefly gazes upon them or skirt around him like a disease. Then there are others who seem morbidly drawn by his unique qualities.
Ultimately the boy doesn't care, in spite of the forgotten tremors of alienation and despair his soul sends him.
In this life, Sephiroth's quest is to seek answers. To him, these new revelations are merely puzzle pieces to complete his forgotten history
./.
"I am ready." A child's voice, spoken with calm certainty but possessing a sharp edge of challenge.
The Turk eyes him warily. "You are too young."
Sephiroth narrows his eyes. This reply again. Short and evasive. How many times has he heard it now?
"But I have nothing more to learn from these katas. I know them all and can execute them quickly without mistakes." In demonstration he grasps his staff and smoothly enters familiar steps and maneuvers. "I have the stamina and the strength." He continues with a thrust followed by a block. "I need an opponent." The child concludes as he executes the last thrust.
His soul hums longingly at the notion of an adversary. Familiar urges and thrills flicker through his mind, but never clear enough to identify.
It urges him to wield the staff differently, warning of dangers that are not present on the rounded wooden body of his weapon.
The instructors are always quick to break him off if he indulges in his whims. One of them had told him too stop fooling around once, and perhaps that is what they believe he is doing. However, the scent of apprehension and wariness always lingers more strongly in the air.
"It is too early. You think too much when you make your moves. Now return to practice." Explains the blue suited man calmly. But the wariness is there, hidden in his scent.
"Do you really believe that?" Asks the child quietly. Turks are never what they seem, there must be more to it. Unfortunately, they are not easy to get answers from either.
The silver haired boy feels the tension rise in the room, one that he is quick to fuel with his own sharp gaze upon the blue suited man. This scent, these dilated pupils, they are all so familiar to his soul, quietly stoking the embers of excitement.
Yet it is only the Turks that possess it around him. The others who fear, freeze and quake or scurry away. These, only watch.
"My orders are not to have you engage in combat." The adult stands in a seemingly relaxed posture, his legs lightly spread.
He recognizes it for what it really is, though. A subtle, but battle ready stance.
It triggers a pulse of remembrance which ripples through his soul. The thrill of battle. The powerful urge to… do something.
Then the pieces fall into place.
An adversary. That is what he is to the Turks. They are always ready to turn on him, to lash out and fight if it is needed.
A small smile graces the boy's lips as he makes his first steps toward the adult before him. He has found his opponent.
Slowly Sephiroth circles the man, following the measured steps sung by his soul. His attention wholly on his target.
The tension rises just as the man seems to naturally relax into his stance.
The boy's eyes brighten, his senses honing in on his target.
"You are wary of me." Sephiroth observes, fishing for a reaction. It is the other that must strike first. The adult has the longer reach and greater experience with his weapon.
The man hitches for a breath as he turns to follow the stalking child.
His reaction sends a wave of remembered sensations through his consciousness. Not a target, he realizes as his pupils' narrow in excitement.
His prey.
But he doesn't wish for his opponent to bolt or back out, he wants them to face him. It is the Turk that must instigate the attack. But the Turks are calm and will not commit easily.
"What do you fear?" he inquires softly, eyes on the man and sensing the others hackles rise. "To harm me?" The man must not fear him, it may cause him to back away. He must be provoked.
"Or to be harmed?"
There. A spike of anger. For a moment there is an unguarded fire in the man's eyes. But he is too professional, has too much control over himself. Perhaps with time, Sephiroth could goad the man into action. But the adult is too well trained, too collected and too wary.
"Is it pain?" The man is calming himself, Sephiroth can hear it in his controlled breathing.
For a reaction Sephiroth must tip the scales between rationality and emotion. Magic could easily achieve this. He encountered it during one of the experiments. He knows he can do it. And if he is careful, they will never know. If not they will suspect, but well, they are human. They won't believe.
As the boy utters his next words he sends a ripple of intent into the Lifestream. There is no visual surge of power like magic usually has. There is no drain on Sephiroth's mental fortitude. If the magical nature of Limit Breaks are questioned, then any traces this may leave will be even more difficult to prove.
The seeds of anger bear down on the seals that connect the human to the other realm which is the Lifestream. And as it silently saturates into the man Sephiroth delivers another oral jab.
"Is it humiliation?"
It is working. He can smell it. He can hear it in the others breathing.
"To be defeated by me; a child." Sephiroth hisses his gaze trained on his prey.
The man is shaking. An irrational anger burning inside.
Suddenly, Sephiroth faints without warning toward the man, his staff thrusting forward in a blur. The man flinches, his own staff moving to counter. But before it makes contact the silver-haired child draws back with a smirk and a barbed goad. "You don't dare-"
"Shut up you freak!" Interrupts the Turk his voice raised. The man hasn't moved out of his stance but his eyes flash with anger - his face distorted with emotion.
Perhaps those seeds had been to potent, Sephiroth reflects calmly over the raised voice of his instructor.
"You think your so high and mighty, but you're just a pawn in a bigger game. You have no choices. Your only purpose is as a puppet! A tool!" Spittle flies as his stance lowers.
Ignoring the Turks words and their influence on his soul, Sephiroth settles in his own stance, his eyes glowing in delight. "You fear a puppet?" The boy mocks.
With a growl the Turk lashes out with his own staff.
"Cane, withdraw."
The order's effects are immediate and the Turk retreats, albeit with reluctance and breathing heavily with an unnatural rage burning openly on his face.
Disappointed, Sephiroth turns to the speaker by the entrance. It is the Turk that had been with Veld. The one with the silent authority.
"This training is over." His low, but commanding voice echoes and he motions to the Turk - Cane was it? - to leave.
Sephiroth eyes the calm man as the younger Turk storms out of the room. His dark eyes reveal nothing and the boy is to far away to sense anything else. "Have patience, child, and you shall have what you want." He soothes.
Has the boy merely been impatient? Has he been to quick in assuming the instructors were deliberately holding back?
No, he's been ready for a proper duel for months. He learns quickly and they know it. There must be something more.
But before Sephiroth can dig for answers the Turk offers his parting words. "I trust you can show yourself out." Before turning on his heal and striding after his distraught colleague.
Not one to miss an opportunity, the silver haired- child does not leave immediately. Instead he changed his grip on the staff, taking the chance to practice on his own, undisturbed.
Holding it in both hands, an imaginary hilt beneath his fingers. He lifts it over his shoulder and hold it parallel to the floor. Much like he would certain kinds of swords. Only this sword would be as long as himself.
Moving on instinct and following the faint urges of his soul, he shifts from stance to stance. Thrust, swing, turn, guard. The dance soothes his soul and spirit.
That intervention had been too swift. They must be watching him. That older Turk in particular is dangerous. He is too cunning, and Sephiroth knows he will suspect something. Perhaps he already does.
There will be no proof though. The silver-haired boy will not do the same mistake again. He will be patient.
Author's notes:
Reviews: Thank you every one who took the time to review since the last updated chapter; TheSuperMario, Samantha Vi Tenebris, Ijskonijntje and the people on AO3 who've commented (because I'm there too now). Thank you DasewigGewitter for offering me valuable feedback on my writing and some food for thought for future events. To Bloody Roses and lordibau, I cannot say enough how much I appreciate, you thought's and ideas. You have both already a great mark on this story, by inspiring scene that otherwise would (or will) not have appeared and hopefully you'll be proud of the events that you have set in motion. In this chapter I thank lordibau specifically for your suggestions which turned Gast's 'travel logs' into something more deserving of being called a letter.
I'm glad to be back with a new chapter. I dare say I'm happier than all of you combined. Well, maybe half of you since there does seem to be a lot of you readers now. And for that I am honoured.
It struck me quite a while back that, even though we don't know either Gast's or Ifallna's cannon ages there could well have been a big age gab between them. And there definitely is one in this story, but I don't believe I've ever seen this possible aspect been brought up before. They both seem like mature adults so I'm sure they overcame this difference, but it's bound to have come up at some point.
I believe, Gast (and myself) keeps forgetting what is appropriate to write to a child who's not even five, slipping up and accidently using big words, and that thirty-year comment. I had a fun moment when considering what I should put there instead It's actually impressive that Sephiroth understands as much as he does. Though you don't see it in my writing I'm sure he goes to look up some of those words in a dictionary.
Next chapter: Cane's (turk instructor's) POV