Epilogue
EPILOGUE
KALM BEFORE THE STORM
Elmyra Gainsborough sighed deeply as she picked the discarded clothes from the floor of the cramped tower bedroom, folding them neatly and returning them to the trio of drawers on the antique wooden cabinet in the corner. Wearily scanning the decorative maroon rug and polished surface of the elm table at the centre of the space, she concluded that the chamber was as tidy as it had to be for the evening save for the half-empty mug of cocoa. The chilled fingers of a gentle sea breeze crept through the open shutters on the south-facing wall, bringing with it the distant sounds of Minerva Square.
Crossing the room, she moved to bolt the aged partition, but paused as she gazed out over the archaic indigo-tiled rooftops of Kalm and the lofty stone battlements that enclosed the town. A wispy mist that usually preceded rainclouds floated in from the coastline, shrouding what stars were normally visible beyond the golden glow of the iron-cast Mako streetlamps. The great dome of artificial light, however, remained around Midgar to the west, and she could all but make out the silhouette of the Shinra Building at the pinnacle of the vast city.
More than two months had passed since Elmyra had made the harsh journey here from her home in the Slums of Sector5, escaping the lower boundaries of the metropolis at the dead of night on the back of an old friend's pickup truck. She was eternally grateful for the ride that had spared her a two-day hike, for she knew all too well of the dangers that lurked nowadays in the barren Wasteland. Aggressive monsters and rabid hounds slaughtered unsuspecting travellers for sport in those parts, and had over time created a perilous province for those ill-equipped to defend themselves.
It's almost as dangerous as Midgar, she mused bitterly.
Elmyra had grown up in Kalm with her younger sister, Jersey, and had only migrated to the city after she had wed a handsome lieutenant in the Shinra Army. Their life together had been good but brief, as he was snatched away from her when Emperor Kisaragi of Wutai declared war on the corporation. Her husband had fought bravely, but was killed when his convoy was bombed in the Tamblin Mountains by a man with no name; a man known only on the battlefield as the God of Death. Elmyra often wondered how she could have coped had she not found Aerith that fateful night at the Train Graveyard.
Following the War, upper-Midgar had flourished while the Slums grew destitute and desperate. Wusheng insurgents and terrorists from different activist groups laid siege time and again, never succeeding but always reminding the citizens of the impoverished districts that law and order often balanced on a knife edge. Increasing rumours of disappearances in the Wastelands combined with her adopted daughter's fear of the world beyond Midgar, not to mention the Turks' continued surveillance of the girl, meant that Elmyra had visited her hometown only once in twenty years. That, sadly, was to commemorate those who had perished in the tragic gas explosion of [µ]-εγλ 1997.
When the Mako Reactor of Sector1 was attacked and destroyed by AVALANCHE more than a decade later, she had little idea that she would be so directly affected. Though she condemned their actions and the subsequent civilian deaths, she understood why they had taken such drastic measures. However, the uncompromising and unprecedented retaliation by Shinra, Inc. to obliterate an entire sector and claim the lives of thousands was far past fathoming, as was the heinous lie by the news reports thereafter blaming the atrocity on AVALANCHE. Aerith's final words as she was dragged off by the Turks had explained as much; Midgar had become less safe than ever.
Having assumed guardianship over Marlene, the young daughter of AVALANCHE's leader, in exchange for the group's attempts to rescue Aerith from the company, Elmyra believed that the time had come for her to return to Kalm indefinitely. Jersey had welcomed her sister into her home with open arms, but she and the child were only two of several hundred refugees that had flocked to the fortified settlement for shelter, and the influx had taken its toll on local infrastructure.
With a warm bed and roof over her head in a setting that felt so reassuringly familiar, Elmyra's concerns had turned almost exclusively to Aerith. The girl had vowed in her youth never to leave the Slums because she was afraid of the open sky, having known nothing for years but the dark, rusting underside of Midgar's Plate. Since the night she had been marched into their home by Tseng, surrendering her freedom so that Marlene may survive the eradication of Sector7, Elmyra had neither seen nor heard from her adopted daughter. Her only source of comfort was an anonymous letter she had received weeks before which briefly confirmed Aerith was alive and well, but a fugitive of the Shinra Corporation. If the message were true, she had already crossed the ocean to the Western Continent with the motley crew that had sworn to protect her.
That girl is no stranger to trouble. She will be as much a guardian angel to them as they are to her…
With a weak smile, she closed the shutters and said goodbye to the night. Taking the porcelain mug from the table, she began down the spiral stairway of the gothic turret. Formerly a segment of Kalm's defensive battlements, this concrete tower had been purchased and converted by Jersey's spouse, a travelling salesman and collector of antique wares, as an extension of their homestead, nothing more than a flamboyant possession until Marlene had claimed the uppermost bedroom as her own. It was cold and dank and its murky steps were inhabited by buzzing insects, but it was an exciting adventure for the little girl, and Elmyra had not the heart to deny her it.
She came at last to a doorway near the base of the stairwell which accessed the second floor corridor of her sister's house. Entering and wandering the narrow pinewood hallway, she descended to the spacious lounge where she discovered Marlene, Jersey and her daughter, Rio. They were engrossed in an animated television show about a fictitious creature, Mog the Moogle, attempting to fly so that he may attract a mate with whom to share his forest abode. Rio, a few years older than her new friend but not dissimilar in appearance, clasped her own beloved moogle doll, complete with worn white fur and a lopsided pompom.
Elmyra had no sooner opened her mouth to announce her presence than there was an ominous knock on the front door. Jersey glanced up from her place on the leather sofa, an expression of uncertainty borne on her lean features, her curious eyes darting back and forth between her sister and the porch beyond. The children were undisturbed by the peculiar occurrence.
"You expecting someone?" mouthed Jersey.
Elmyra shook her head; she was well accustomed to interruptions at strange hours but she had not anticipated one here. Warily, she shuffled across the living room, her muscles tensed and heart pounding. As she approached, she could see two shadows loitering outside through the frosted glass, their shapes cast long and hard against the deep glow of the streetlamps. Stiffening her jaw, she tentatively pulled the handle so that the door was no more than a foot ajar.
A young man and woman waited patiently on the gleaming cobbles of the boulevard, turning abruptly when they heard movement from the portico. They were dressed in matching uniforms of tailored black suits, and carried the same ill-omened quality as their counterparts. He was slim and cocky with thick locks of wild blonde hair, while she was slimmer with a bob of dark hair concealing half her sharp face, and seemed to slouch as if nursing an old injury.
"Good evening, ma'am," started the boy with courtesy, though betraying a sneering mien behind his handsome eyes, "we are from the Investigation Division of-"
"I know who you are: you're both Turks," Elmyra interjected bluntly, just as she had each time representatives of the organisation paid her a visit. With an unimpressed scoff, she shut the door on them, but the woman's leg suddenly shot out, jamming her heeled boot in the frame and catching Elmyra by surprise. "What are you doing? Aerith isn't here!"
"I'm afraid you are mistaken, ma'am," growled the blonde Turk with menace as he slowly climbed the front step to loom over her, "it's not Aerith we've come for…"
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