II

CHAPTER II

FAREWELL TO MIDGAR

The skies had grown overcast with materialising clouds of silver by the time the five eventually marched beneath the vast vaulted entrance of the fortress settlement of Kalm, bringing with them the threat of light precipitation. The aging battlements whispered to the party as the breeze swept over its stony face and through the thick rings of the drawbridge's iron chains, following them across the broad gangway and out towards the verdant meadows beyond the town. A number of chocobo-drawn carts and lumbering automobiles passed them on the road, the drivers still determined to offer their wares at the markets.

The group began southeast across the fields of purest green and gold, slipping through the estate grounds of Kylegate Manor, the apparently vacant home of a wealthy dynasty. Deliberately avoiding the trafficked paths for fear of exposure, they were equally careful not to disturb the herds of diceratopses that grazed on the farmlands. Travellers often spoke of the gargantuan but docile beasts of burden that inhabited the region, telling of their armoured vermillion skin and curling horns of thickest bone, from which it had gained the nickname 'dual horn'. However, it was strongly advised never to trespass on the animals' territory, as pride and protection fuelled a diceratops' existence. What few of the creatures the company saw paid them little heed, choosing instead to feast upon the rich maize in the fields.

As the afternoon wore on, the heavens darkened over Midgar on the western horizon, but whether it was rainclouds or rising pollution they could not guess. Although less than a day had elapsed since the party had tread its arid terrain, the barren Wastelands that surrounded the city seemed no more than an old chapter of a book, and they were glad to be free of the risk from its aggressive monsters. Their quest would take them far from the unwelcoming boundaries of the great Mako metropolis, perhaps never to return. A moment was spared for each to say a silent farewell to Midgar, and once they had turned from its emotionless glare, none looked back.

Dusk had crept over the land from atop the jagged crests of the Midgar Mountains as the five met the snaking banks of the River Mandragora, the sun arcing down towards the western shores hundreds of miles away. The rushing waters of the Mandragora had flowed parallel to the northern coastline from almost as far as Kalm, but only at the place they had arrived did it finally begin its journey south. The murky current frothed as it surged past them, resolute in its bid to find its way to the mouth of the ocean, spitting up onto the wild reeds that bordered it. It brought them by nightfall to a lush forested plateau, and a safe place to camp for the evening.

Erecting the tents behind a shroud of evergreen trees, the group set a small campfire with the twigs and dry leaves Aerith and Tifa had collected from their hike through the woods. They had dined under the stars to a supper of grilled salmon and crusty bread that Barret had purchased at the stalls in Kalm, greedily consuming the fish with appetites that had been unquenched for the duration of the day's trek. Aerith repeatedly commented on her love of its aroma and the childhood reminiscing it invoked of when Aunt Jersey would send special fillets to her home in the Sector5 Slums.

Odd shadows danced across the treeline as they ate, partially obscured by the drifting smoke that wound towards the speckled sky. Their breath hung in the cold winter atmosphere like ethereal spectres, huddling close to each individual for warmth. Gazing wearily into the flickering fire at the centre of the clearing while the others finished their meal, Cloud's mind had again become fraught with images of the atrocity at Nibelheim five years before.

The intensity of the flames…the anger of betrayal…

"How bad was I?"

"Huh?" he had stammered, spinning on the log to see Tifa seated by his side, her large brown eyes watching his. He had been so entranced by the campfire that he had failed to notice her join him, and his brain had struggled to comprehend the question.

"When Sephiroth cut me," she repeated quietly, tracing her finger down between her breasts, and along her stomach. The motion had reminded him of his own distinguished scar: the unexplained oval gash above his gut. "How bad was I?"

"I…" Cloud had answered hesitantly, glancing uneasily at his boots, helpless to subdue the memory as it took hold.

He stopped, the soft sobbing reaching his ears for the first time. Tifa knelt by the body of her father, cradling his head in her hands. Even from the walkway, Cloud could see the pool of dark blood forming on the man's back; the wound had been fatal. The Masamune lay by his side, the long blade stained in red. How many had it slain that night? Tifa began stroking her father's face, running her fingers through his hair with great tenderness.

"Papa?" she whispered, her trembling voice floating over the air like a ghost. "It was Sephiroth. Sephiroth did this to you, didn't he?"

"Tifa…?"

She turned to Cloud, peering up at him from saddened eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek, marking a path through the grime on her jaw. She wiped it away, her expression filling with wrath. Cloud stared at her, unable to speak, to comfort her in some way. Silence fell between them, the presence of death too much for words. Tifa embraced her father dearly, eventually lowering his head gently to the floor. Standing, she snatched up the Masamune, her eyes fixed on the arched entrance of the control room.

"You came to this village just to investigate the disappearances, didn't you?" she wept. "All I wanted was to help. How did it turn out like this?"

"Tifa…"

"Sephiroth...SOLDIER...Mako Reactors...Shinra...everything," she said through clenched teeth, darting through the doorway. "I hate you all-"

"Tifa, no!" yelled Cloud, sprinting after her, knowing he was almost out of time.

No more…please, no more…

Sephiroth's unnatural voice resounded down the short passage as he ran, his vision rapidly growing accustomed to the deep red. The room seemed much less alive than it had the week before, but no less eerie; the pods had been emptied of the makonoids by the Company's scientists and relocated. Sephiroth stood at the height of the staircase, his arms outstretched as if in prayer, his echoing words directed at the plaque above the doorway to Jenova's chamber.

"…Mother, I've come," he beamed, lost in his own inspired delusion. "I'm here to see you."

"Sephiroth!" screamed Tifa, the Masamune drawn behind her, racing purposefully up the steps. "How could you do that to papa?"

Though only a few feet behind her at the base of the stairs, Cloud stalled as she reached Sephiroth, realising in that instant that he had lost. It's over…I'm too late. His entire world slowed almost to a standstill, leaving him powerless to stop the unfolding events. As Tifa brought the enormous blade thundering down on Sephiroth, the SOLDIER twisted swiftly on the spot. Without effort, he caught the handle in his palm, lifting it and the horrified girl into the air.

Their gazes locked; Tifa's was one of loathing, Sephiroth's of pure amusement. His maniacal expression fleetingly ridiculed the vain attempt to attack him, but suddenly fell into contempt, breaking her grip from the sword. Tifa landed on the grilled walkway, barely able to regain her poise before Sephiroth struck. Cloud could do little but cry out in anguish as the Masamune sliced across her chest, the brutality of the blow launching her backwards.

Tifa's limp body crashed against the rigid steps, bouncing once, and tumbled awkwardly down the remaining few. Cloud scrambled to catch her, to save her from more pain, but felt her fragile figure unmoving in his shaking arms. The gash on her ribs was grave, her shirt soaked with seeping blood. The sparkle had left her eyes, draining with it the vitality and exuberance he had always known in her. Anger welled inside him, more resolute than any he had ever experienced. Glancing up, there came a bleep from the electronic lock, and the doorway to Jenova's chamber momentarily parted, shrouding the eager Sephiroth with a cloud of icy gas as he entered.

"I don't know," Cloud had admitted at last. "You're a tough fighter…but even with Zangan's martial arts training, you were no match for Sephiroth. All I remember was how scared I was when I saw what he had done to you. I thought you wouldn't make it…"

"You were worried for me?" she had asked softly, touching his arm, gratitude filling her slim face.

"It doesn't matter," he had muttered dismissively. "You're fine now."

"But…"

Tifa had said nothing more, instead retreating to the tent she and Aerith would share. Cloud sat alone late into the night, absorbed by the smouldering campfire and the mesmerising electric blue glowflies that buzzed around the embers. Although they had agreed on rotating lookout shifts, he had been reluctant to rouse his comrades from their slumber as the hours came and went, considering it futile if his own restless state forbade him from falling asleep. He absently caressed the gilded carvings at the hilt of his greatsword, and around the twin Materia slots, admiring its four-and-a-half feet of deadly steel alloy.

There was little to disturb the plateau, the rapids of the Mandragora all that penetrated the silence as it cascaded from the summit of the Magnade Fells. Only on a single occasion had Cloud been alerted to another presence in the woods, cautious that custom sweeper scout robots from Shinra's Department of Weapons Development may be patrolling the area, but it had ultimately proven to be a stray chimera bug rustling in the underbrush.

The group had set off at dawn the following morning along a course Barret had suggested. As the day progressed, the incline of the hilly topography began to grow steep and difficult to tread, forcing them farther inland and away from the winding river. The pale brown cliffs of the fells ascended in the north like high barricades, their crests glinting as the sun skulked above the fertile ranges, shaping the drop in the land towards the mouth of the Healen Valley.

By the third evening since leaving Kalm, the Mandragora having long since thinned and abandoned the party's side to find its way back to its origins, they had come to a location at the base of the bluffs that overlooked much of the rolling countryside beyond. Taking up camp once again, the group rested, mapping out their path through the great trough where the roots of the fells melted into the plains. A vale of unspoiled prairies stretched the vast width from their position to the scaling opaque peaks of the Midgar Mountains far to the south, forming the continental duct that would bring them southeast and around the looming dark colossuses.

According to Barret, it had been generally seen as impractical for those making the trip to the coastal city of Junon - or any other township west of the range for that matter - to do so via the Healen Valley as, until recently, it was possible to access them through the old coal railway system. Throughout much of modern history, the spine of the Continent had boasted several functioning coalmines, and local businesses had flourished, seeing many small pioneer settlements quickly form around the mountains as prospectors competed to make their fortune. Railway tunnels were cut through the rock so as to transport the fuel efficiently between the mines and Old Midgar or the hamlets that lay further east.

For more than a century, these pits supplied the majority of the Continent with energy, also utilising the natural gas that could be found beneath the surface. Of these, Mythril Mine in the south was by far the largest and best known, employing thousands of men in its sprawling labyrinthine subterranean network. Northeast of Junon, immense refineries had been established, their sole purpose to remove impurities and redistribute the coal brought from the quarries.

However, in [µ]-εγλ 1959, while studying the influences of Materia when combined with physical weapons, Shinra Manufacturing Works discovered a way to develop the effects of Mako as an energy source, something that had been hypothesised for generations. Shinra were quick to monopolise Mako, and its innovation saw them become the dominant provider of cheap and seemingly unlimited energy, thus Shinra Electric Power Company was formed. The age of coal and gas drew gradually to a close, but a number of regions around the Planet held onto their heritage, instead choosing their traditional lifestyles over this untried evolution.

As the lucrativeness of the coalmines dwindled, entrepreneurs shifted their focus onto Mako production, investing in the exponentially expanding multi-billion gil Shinra Corporation and their monstrous Reactors. Their privatisation of the Armed Forces meant that the democratic parliament came to rely on them and, over time, shrank into the shadows as a puppet government without influence. Shinra came to dominate global politics, economics and military affairs, and only a handful of incidents from resistance organisations had significantly challenged this.

Through the Company's stimulus, Midgar had grown to be the largest city on the Planet. Their crown jewel was the eventual construction of the Plate, a magnificent upper-city which symbolised supremacy and triumph over nature. It was designed to satisfy the demands of the elite, and to become the location for Shinra, Inc.'s Headquarters. The Plate was now one of the Planet's main cultural and industrial hubs, surrounded and powered by eight Mako Reactors.

During this period, the populations of the pioneer towns plummeted, many of which were all but abandoned. Shinra, Inc. purchased much of the real estate on these lands, converting it into stylish retreats and holiday lodges for the higher echelons of its staff members, though these would prove less desirable than seaside destinations such as Costa del Sol. Others were renovated into specialised hospitals and medical facilities similar to the famous Cliff Resort sanatorium which had been built at the dawn of the Corporation, best known as the place where President Shinra spent his rehabilitation after he was shot by operatives of the old AVALANCHE during their initial attack on Junon.

Around that time, the freight tunnels beneath the Midgar Mountains had also fallen under Shinra control, and the transit of coal from the refineries fell drastically as, one by one, the towns of the Eastern Continent succumbed to the temptation of Mako. The last to convert was Kalm, approximately a decade before, though this was from the result of more tragic circumstances.

The railway passages ceased regular operations soon after and, while never developing as a means of public transport, retained some worth for the occasional shipping of cargo. They were also put to use as unofficial highways between the east and west of the Continent, as trekking across the sharp, impassable ridges of the mountains was often fatal. These lengthy tunnels, however, posed their own dangers, as they came to be crawling with monsters that had mutated or migrated due to the excess Mako that Midgar's Reactors were drawing from the underground rivers. In addition, following the conclusion of the Wutai War, militant Wusheng resurgence groups commanded by the feared Crescent Unit began to inhabit the caverns within the foothills as their secret bases. Barret had even shared with them his own experience of traversing the channels as one of several representatives from his hometown.

"Was 'bout six years ago I was first in these parts," he recalled, sweeping his gun-arm across the landscape to the southwest of their campsite. "Mayor Deenglow sent me an' some of Corel's miners to Midgar to learn 'bout how the Reactors worked. None o' us had even seen one before that trip. The Shinra didn't wanna fly us from Junon, but they sent some soldiers to escort us through the mountains. Not much good they were; we got stranded in Kalm for two godsdamn days. They had to call in SOLDIER to deal with some roboguards that'd gone haywire in the Wastelands, targetin' civilians instead o' monsters. After that, we got stuck under the protection of some enthusiastic young First Class who never seemed to shut the hell up."

As Barret continued, he explained how many of the old coalmines had been systematically sealed to counteract the movements of the Wusheng, until only one highway remained. However, two months previous, an explosion had caused the north entrance of the tunnel to collapse, effectively segregating the provinces on either side of the range. Official reports had claimed it was an act of terrorism, inevitably blaming the old AVALANCHE, but rumours in the Slums had emerged that Shinra, Inc. had dispatched the Turks and half of their Army to the site in a hunt for two high-priority fugitives, and had set the bombs themselves. Regardless, if not travelling by air or sea, this left but a single option for those seeking a route to the west: Mythril Mine.

Sticking to the low ground for cover, they had eluded the dirt roads destined for the quaint hillside villages and resorts on the south bank of the vale. Cloud had read a few of the aged signposts in the hope that one of the names may trigger a memory amid the black void of his recent past, but locations such as Mimett, Curiel, and Krakka did nothing for him. Not even the miserable weather deterred them from their path through the wilderness of woodland and moors; the threat of pursuit from the Shinra Army, or the Turks, or SOLDIER was too great to chance being identified, even in the most rural of settings.

For four more days, the party ventured deeper into the valley, their trek marred by the drizzle that seeped from lingering rainclouds overhead. The wetness of the country and their limited preparation for the conditions had dampened their spirits for large parts of the journey, often taking its toll on the already-bleak relationship between the reluctantly-appointed leader and the resentful Barret. Tifa had also become distant with Cloud, as if she had been insulted or even confused by their interactions, electing instead to form a strong bond with Aerith as they trudged on. Aerith, in fact, had not seemed to mind the climate at all; she had revelled in her first real experience of the elements.

By the eighth day since leaving Kalm, the cliffs in the north had faded to nothing more than sierras that served the sole purpose of concealing the harsh coastline of the Continent on the horizon, but the ominous spine of the Midgar Mountains refused to wane, choosing simply to veer from their parallel trail of the Magnade Fells and change to a heading of due south. As if to lift the heavy mood of the weary company, the sun appeared for the first time in almost a week. Its illuminating rays drew back the curtain of grey to reveal a glorious setting: the endless and affluent grasslands of the Eligor Plains. The sun's warmth was greatly appreciated by the five as the afternoon wore on, gradually drying the clothes that had become sodden and uncomfortable in the chilling winter winds.

Over the passing evenings, Cloud had regularly detected a lurking presence around their makeshift camps: on the raised plateau; beyond the opening of the hidden grotto; in the trees across the brook. It never approached, but was always watchful, waiting for an opportunity to strike. It left him restless, his advanced senses keeping him alert. With the landscape smoothing, he began to feel less wary, safe in the knowledge that any predator would be unable to disguise themselves from the travellers. There were moments as the crimson twilight settled over the Continent that he was certain he had caught a fleeting sight of Kalm fangs – a small but ferocious breed of wolf which stalked their prey in packs – many acres behind them, but by nightfall, all trace of them had vanished.

The soft earth of the lush pastures had proven a treat to the aching feet of the group after that. Many species of large birdlike creatures inhabited the meadows of the Healen Valley, grazing in herds of thousands. Flocks of flightless levrikons and epiornii mingled together in harmony across the fields, the only separable feature of their dusky-feathered bodies being the shade of their long, thin necks and clawed paws; the levrikons had rubbery magenta skin, while an epiornis' displayed a pallid cyan tint. Most were unconcerned by the intrusion of the five, only retreating into defensive clusters when Red XIII drew too near.

As the party continued farther inland, however, they had been gifted the spectacular sight of wild chocobos and their young chicobos roaming the savannah. The majestic golden animals strode tall and proud in their coordinated formations, the alpha male towering over the others at a height of almost eight feet. Their sleek feathers gleamed in the fading afternoon hue, with those on their tails and skulls standing erect, and their enormous beady black eyes twinkling with the colours of the countryside. Many pranced gracefully around one other as if performing an ancient ritual, flapping their short wings with gleeful warks, only pausing to ogle the intruders with caution.

It was while traipsing around one such herd that Red XIII had halted in his tracks, his body rigid, the plume of eagle feathers pinned to his collar wavering as he crooked his neck and strained his ears. He notified them of a sound unusual this far off-road; a vehicle was approaching. It would be almost another minute before Cloud could hear it too, hurriedly motioning for them to huddle behind him. There was nowhere to run; nowhere to hide; they were hopelessly exposed. Cloud had drawn the Buster Sword, and they had waited with baited breath.

Now, seated in the back of the hulking ashen pA-66 pickup truck alongside Barret and Red XIII, while the girls accompanied the burly man in the driver's cab, the entire reaction seemed slightly premature. The rusting cargo bed rattled furiously as the six-wheeled sedan skipped speedily over the moorlands, churning up the mud below. Bill, a cheerful chocobo farmer en route to his ranch, had stopped to offer the grateful hikers a ride as far as his destination. Learning that the farm was almost three-hundred miles in the direction they were bound, Cloud had deemed it foolish to dismiss the gesture.

"So, what brings you folks out this way?" called Bill through the shuddering acrylic glass.

He turned back towards Cloud as if directing the question solely at him, completely taking his focus from the road ahead. Farmer Greane was an older man, with a pointed grey beard and a mess of wild hair to match, some of which was trapped beneath a worn skullcap. His spectacles were much too large for his weathered face, his eyes appearing to bulge each time he moved his head.

"We're on an adventure to settle our pasts," declared Aerith heartily, showing no notice of Cloud's hesitation.

"One of them spiritual journeys, eh?" Bill nodded in acknowledgement, swerving to the right as the trail passed between two steep knolls.

"Something like that," mumbled Cloud.

"Always wanted to do one myself," he grinned. "Y'know…go visit the Permafrost Glaciers on the Northern Continent. Heard there's an old sage up there who knows a thing or two 'bout special chocobos. Seems all the young 'uns are doin' it now. This region's become a hotspot for outsiders."

"What do you mean?" probed Aerith.

"A lotta strange folks been seen in these parts lately," Bill responded with a frown. "Ever since the damn train tunnels caved in."

"This week, too?" said Cloud.

"Funny you should mention it."

"How so?" pressed Barret.

"Was deliverin' my produce in Mimett yesterday for their New Year celebrations," began Bill, scratching his hair nonchalantly as they veered heavily again, "an' customers there were tellin' me 'bout a suspicious-lookin' fella that passed through the town not two days ago."

"Suspicious looking?" repeated Tifa.

"Well, us country folks ain't used to some types, dear," shrugged the farmer. "All I know is he was dressed in a black cloak, tall with silvery hair. He didn't say or do nothin', but he got a lot of people on edge-"

"You hear what way he was going?" Cloud asked weakly as his voice caught in his throat, the overwhelming comprehension reflected in Barret's worried glance.

"South," came the immediate answer. "Seems he's headed for the Mythril Mine."

Bill was oblivious to the tense atmosphere that descended suddenly among his guests as the pickup continued to bounce over the grasslands. The very idea of Sephiroth being nearby sent a shiver plunging down Cloud's spine, freezing his blood, tingling his muscles. The rolling landscape beyond came a blur, the ochre line on the horizon announcing the forthcoming dusk. He closed his eyes for a second, catching his breath, once more seeing the sneering smile in his mind.

I promised myself that I would do what it takes. We are on the right track. The anger…the betrayal…Sephiroth, you will soon pay for what you have done…

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