Chapter 47

Fire Cavern

For the first time in a week, Gerra awoke without a hangover. He tentatively rolled over to confirm the experiences of the previous night had not been a fantasy, seeing Thalassa sleeping soundly beside him.

He could mainly see her facial tattoo from his angle. Gerra stared at it at length for the first time, taking in each curve and spike of the tribal symbol. He did not think the design itself represented anything, but recalled Thalassa saying her father had gotten the same tattoo as soon as he was old enough to legally visit a parlour – at sixteen, in Balamb City. She had implored Kurin to let her infiltrate her hometown and visit the same parlour on her sixteenth nameday.

Sorceresses often had facial tattoos, and the White SeeD was named after one of the Original Four; Thalassa of the Water Shrine, met by the Children of Fate with the onset of Time Compression. Gerra had no doubt Thalassa's namesake would be among the chief candidates to succeed Ultimecia. Quistis had reportedly sensed the affinity within Thalassa before her own passing. As the daughter of Edea, Tyris would assuredly be another.

Gerra had not lain with a woman other than Ultimecia for twelve years, and last night had been surreal. He only half remembered it, because of the alcohol. He hoped he had not disappointed the White SeeD. He had not been too drunk to perform, though had been a bit numb to sensations all the same. Thalassa told him afterward that he needed to cut down, and he had finally accepted that. Gerra decided that if he could have her love, he would never touch a liquor bottle again.

Still, she had given him the most tried confidence booster known to a man, ahead of his mission. Which, in his maudlin, he had often wondered if he was worthy for. He had no idea what trial Phoenix would put him through, as Ifrit had merely told Gerra he would need to find out for himself. Thalassa had eased his apprehension of the battles ahead, in addition to his guilt at betraying Leo and Ultimecia.

Before now, those demons had only been bearable when he had gotten drunk out of his mind. Gerra was certain that his Ultimecia had developed feelings for him over the dozen years he had served her, while his feelings for her had gradually dissipated to little more than lust. Not long before his departure, Ultimecia had told Gerra she had favoured him over all her previous Knights, which time had always cruelly taken from her. So deeply wounded by his treachery, she had sent Leo and her Praetorians to kill him in her stead. Perhaps his betrayal of the future Ultimecia would accelerate her descent into madness.

Gerra had people to fight for now. Real people, not just half remembered names from the history books. People that believed in his redemption. He had to stop Ultimecia from ever existing in the future, even if it meant his own life. He had to do it for Thalassa's future, even if he did not survive to be a part of it.

He gently put his hand on the White SeeD's golden-brown shoulder. She stirred under his touch, sleepily turning to face him.

'Sleep well?' he asked.

She murmured, 'Yeah.'

Gerra kissed her once. Thalassa wrinkled her nose as her eyes closed again.

'You need to get that ale off your breath,' she said sleepily.

He grinned like a kid. 'Yes, ma'am! I'm gonna go sober today, too!'

Thalassa opened her eyes again, blinking a couple of times. 'Make sure you do,' she said softly. 'Your liver needs it.'

Gerra kissed her again, then left the bed to grab a towel. Grabbing some toiletries, he headed for the showers. He ran the water as hot as it would go, which was not very, standing under meagre jet with his eyes closed as it slowly trickled down his body. The aroma of alcohol and shared bodily fluid came from his pores. A clear dispenser contained some cheap shower gel, but it was better than nothing as he rubbed it into the roots of his long onyx hair and unkempt beard, the latter which he promised himself he would trim today. He urinated as he stood, the translucent yellow piss trickling out as the shower timed out. In mid flow, he pushed the button again.

He turned around so that his back got an even wash and saw George smirking at him, patting himself down with a stained towel.

'Good night, eh?' the skipper said. 'You look like a lot of the weight has gone off your shoulders, mate!'

Gerra's grin came easily. 'I feel like it, too. It's been a while. Which one of you put her up to it?'

George left him to enjoy the lukewarm trickle as best he could. He hit the button three more times, deciding to leave when one of the older trawlermen, Hodson, walked by his stall stark naked, contemptuously glancing at his dripping cock. Gerra reckoned the old boy would need all morning to scrub the grime and fish odour from himself. Hodson made a rude noise, clearly audible over the pathetic shower spray. Gerra left the room, thinking that he would brush his teeth back in his cabin.

Thalassa was curled up in the same position as before. There would be no morning delight for him, though. He was craving the cook's hot breakfast. George was in the mess, along with the great cook and a middle-aged crew member that was knocking back a tankard after being on night duty. Thalassa came up topside an hour later, in a fresh set of thin-layered waterproof clothing for their expedition. Gerra mused that his three travel companions would need fireproof clothing for where they were going. They would not reach the Balamb mainland until the afternoon. Ballad and Tyris did not surface until noon, sitting very quietly in a corner of the mess together. They ignored the wisecracks of the fisherman as they tucked into a breakfast at the same time the rest of them were having lunch.

With about two hours until they reached the eastern Rinaul Coast, the dormant volcano containing the Fire Cavern now visible on the horizon, they returned to their quarters to make final preparations. Any Esthari patrol boats they had passed had paid them no mind so far, and George already had a dinghy prepped for the unit. Two hours later, they bid the crew of the Ross Torama goodbye.

Ballad was operating the dinghy motor, wearing Galbadian standard issue charcoal armour and pads over an olive-green t-shirt, his short black curls waving in the wind. Tyris was wearing her old Esthari jumpsuit – minus the identifiable armour – with the hood down, her highlighted hair neatly tied back. Gerra was ever adorned in his black trench coat and matching boots, his beard now trimmed; his hair had been layered and neatened by Thalassa after his breakfast, and he now looked and felt like a younger man.

They only had minimal overnight gear, electing to travel as light as possible. They would be on the mainland for a few nights before George could pick them up from Balamb City's main harbour. Thalassa intended to see her grandmother during that time.

The four reached a deserted stretch of beach without incident, hiding the craft among some rocks. Then, avoiding fastitocalon fins, they circumnavigated a beige cliff to reach the entrance to Ifrit's former lair. The ground surrounding the Fire Cavern itself was said to be a blight too dry for any vegetation. Gerra would not know, as the majority of the Albatross had been reclaimed by the sea in his era. None of the others had ever been here, save for Thalassa being shown the entrance by her father years before. They reached their destination, standing upon the dry rocks. The old photographs they had seen of it were a fair depiction – minus the old Garden Faculty members, who had always guarded the entrance before NORG's Uprising.

'Do you think Ultimecia has been here?' Thalassa wondered. 'She must have tried to reach Phoenix herself at some point. She might be able to do it with Eden's power.'

'Perhaps,' Tyris said. 'Though she knows that Ifrit is with Gerra. She may have decided it wasn't worth the effort for one half of Rubicante.'

'Phoenix was among the last of the GFs to be captured by her in the future,' Gerra mentioned. 'But I have little doubt she and Leo have will have anticipated our quest. It's likely they have eyes on us.'

'The lack of resistance bothers me,' Ballad admitted. 'There's a marine base several miles away. You're right, Gerra. Ultimecia must have this place under surveillance.'

'I need Phoenix's power,' Gerra stated, his borrowed Hyperion drawn as he turned to his companions. 'Perhaps the rest of you should turn back. If there is a trap, it would be better to lose just Ifrit to the enemy than the rest of our GFs.'

Ballad and Tyris only seemed to consider for a heartbeat. Gerra barely knew them, and they had their own motivations and agendas. Besides anything, their newfound love had too blossomed the previous night. He would not expect them to risk their lives for him, and was grateful they had accompanied him this far. Thalassa, though, shook her head instantly. She stepped forward and took Gerra's free hand.

'We're in this together, Gerra,' she said firmly.

'We knew it would be dangerous when we agreed to come with you,' Tyris concurred. 'You saved me from General Zebalga at Galbadia City. Perhaps I can return the favour soon.'

'A soldier has his duty,' Ballad said, 'though I believe in your cause, Gerra. Cerberus is eager to greet his undying brethren. Besides, I'm in Thalassa's debt; Garland would have met its end against the Lunarians on the Great Plains, if not for her and Raine. I certainly won't be abandoning the Riptide in enemy territory.'

'Come on,' Thalassa said, leading the way with her reverted Kotetsu.

They entered the cavern, warm air hitting them before they had even passed through the opening. Only Gerra seemed to be unfazed, now leading the way with firm strides.

'My Pop said the cadets had to use para-magic to keep their body temperatures cool here,' Thalassa said. 'The heat will only intensify as we proceed.'

'Seifer hated having to relinquish Ifrit for the SeeD trials,' Tyris remarked. 'Though even after the fallout of the last war, he honoured his old agreement with C – with my father. It was the same with Raijin and Fujin. As a child, I remember them all bitching about losing their GFs every spring. Even though the separation probably lessened their memory loss. Though obviously, SeeD couldn't use the Fire Cavern after the annexation.'

'Pop used to complain about parting with Leviathan, too,' Thalassa replied. 'Even though he never wanted his childhood memories back.'

Gerra wondered how long it would be before Ifrit took his own memories, thinking it could not happen soon enough. He had already implored his GF to take the bad ones as soon as he was ready. That would aid his sobriety immensely. Ifrit had apologetically informed him that it did not work that way. Magicite use did not carry that drawback, at the expense of the GF's free will, so Gerra had never known it in the future.

They reached a vast chamber with a single path snaking to the right, volcanic rock either side of it. They were assailed by a group of red bats in no time, which made awful cries as they closed in. Ballad drew a suppressed sidearm and fired at them. The bats were more of an annoyance than a threat, and the party were swarmed by three more packs before they had even got to the end of the huge opening chamber. The path widened as it curved to the left, the molten rock rising to frame it. They found their path blocked by what would be by far the most fearsome of fiends here. Bombs. Three of them floated back and forth, then from side to side, emitting low rumbles from their gaping mouths. Their hollow eye sockets were filled only with fire.

Although Gerra could use Ifrit to shield his party from their potent flame, without Leviathan they lacked an elemental advantage. Ballad stepped forward with his gladiuses drawn, standing with Gerra, thinking the non-elemental power of Cerberus would be their best asset here. Tyris and Thalassa hung back, their weapons at the ready. Gerra fired his gunblade at the front most bomb, knocking it back, though this only caused it to swell in size. A stutter of flame came from its mouth, and a fireball shot at Gerra, who took one hand from his weapon as if to catch it with his hand. As soon as the flame struck his palm, it was absorbed. He leapt forward and thrust his blade low, running the bomb through. With a death cry, it carried on expanding with Hyperion stuck in its centre mass.

'Get back!' Gerra shouted to Ballad, just before the bomb exploded.

Gerra took the full force of the explosion, and though the shockwave knocked him flying into the Garland leader, he was unhurt. Ballad was pinned beneath him, though.

The remaining bombs flew over the two men, spitting fireballs at the two female warriors. Tyris pounced forward, eager to test Raikou. With a firm upthrust she cut the lead bomb cleanly in two, this one disappearing with sputtering embers. Thalassa swung Kotetsu over and backhand, scoring two clean cuts, though the ordinary gunblade had no effect. The struck bomb recoiled with a grunt from deep within it, beginning to enlarge. Tyris rotated with a backhand swing of her own and scored a gaping wound in the fiend's side. She would have cut it half had it not started engorging. Flames began to stream from the cut, flickering out, and the bomb began to deflate until it turned miniscule and vanished completely.

Gerra and Ballad were back on their feet. When they were satisfied there were no more bombs present, Tyris regarded her new weapon once more. Having made short work of the two bombs, Raikou truly was an instrument of destruction.

'Want me to take point?' she said with a sarcastic smile, which Ballad mirrored.

Tyris joined Gerra at their front as they carried on. Once they were within sight of the lava pit, they were met by several orange discs on the ground, which could only be fire flans. The flans swiftly took form, smoke coming from their jelly-like masses.

Knowing he could not fell them, Gerra erected a fire ward around his three comrades. Tyris brandished Raikou, slicing into the first. They were not weak to lightning, but the sheer power within the weapon enabled it to cut through its liquid form as though it were made of more solid material. The first flan imploded, disappearing into the rock. Tyris pivoted to thrust between the eyes of a second, and then Ballad was at her side. The Garland leader's right sword, glowing red, cut through the ever-changing face of one flan. His left, resonating silver, cut the wide torso of another. Then he stepped through the space where the first had been and brought both blades around to kill a third. Tyris threw her spear at the sole remaining flan; the spear disappeared with a lightning flash and came back to her hand after passing cleanly through the fiend. The way was clear.

A buel, attracted by the noise, floated down behind them. A weaker breed of creature, its form was largely held together by magic; wings, fins, and claws rotated around a glowing orange core. Thalassa, now at the rear, thrust Kotetsu into this core with deadly precision, causing every single part to the floating monster to fall softly to the ground as it died.

'Gerra, this is it!' Thalassa said as they stopped before the pool of lava, taking his hand again. 'We're counting on you!'

Ifrit spoke to Gerra's mind as he nodded. If there is any doubt of the fire latent within your heart, Gerra, you will burn within my inferno. The last mortal to pass this test was your forebear, Seifer. Do not disappoint me, Fiery One of the Future!

Gerra met the White SeeD's ocean-blue eyes. 'I will return to you. I have to.'

They shared a long kiss, which she waited for him to end. When he reluctantly did, he took his free arm from around her and looked once to Tyris and Ballad. They nodded.

'Thank you,' he said.

Gerra stepped to edge of the pit and sheathed Hyperion. He was unfazed as spurts of flame shot up, spreading his arms like Phoenix's wings. Without hesitation, he closed his eyes and fell slowly forward into the lava.

When he disappeared beneath the surface, it was as though he had fallen into a thick, ethereal liquid. He opened his eyes. For the first time, he could feel the fire within his heart that Ifrit had alluded to. The power coursed through his veins like lava with each slow, deliberate beat. Gerra had the sensation of continuing to fall freely, but had no sense of direction, light or time's passing. Much like when he had travelled to this era. For the first time in his life, he felt completely cut off from everything he had ever known. This must be what it was like to fall into a bottomless pit, or to fall into a black hole and cease to exist.

I'm not alone, Gerra thought, his last image of Thalassa's face suddenly seared into his mind. She awaits my return.

Gerra thought of his admiration and feelings for the young White SeeD, which had gradually kindled into a glorious flame, now fully acknowledged. And now, he was sure, had been reciprocated. That alone was enough for him to begin to forgive himself for his past actions, even if certain people from the future never would.

Then he saw the equally morally conflicted Leo, standing steadfastly with his halved Harbinger in each hand, dripping with the blood of the Blue Mage. The Obsidian Harbinger. He who was once an honourable imperial commander in the future, torn from his family by Gerra's actions. He who could now only find comfort from Ultimecia's poison touch, his heart blackening further with each passing day, as he butchered the free people of this timeline to ensure her conquest. Gerra knew he needed to end Leo's presence in this era. Ultimecia materialised at her Knight's side. Gerra desired with every ounce of his will the complete fire of Rubicante. Not for personal gain, but so he could better stand against them.

The Sorceress and Knight were replaced by two young children. A boy and a girl, around the same age as Ifrit Almasy. Gerra immediately knew who they were, for Ultimecia had commanded their deaths when they had been captured with a group of White SeeDs. Fire spurted from horrible gashes across their chest where Gerra had cut them. Behind them stood a sneering Vargas, holding a bone-handled flaying knife. Gerra had granted the children a swift execution to spare them hours of torment from the Zebalgan, but had always struggled to bury the deed at the back of his mind. Some nights, no amount of alcohol could chase their ghosts away. Vargas grinned at him with his filed teeth, and the children stared at Gerra helplessly. Gerra tried to call out to them. To tell them to run, even though he knew they could not hope to escape the sickening Praetorian.

As had always happened in this recurring nightmare, no sound emitted from Gerra's mouth. As he always did, he resigned himself to complete this unchangeable act by drawing Hyperion and granting them that quick death. Yet this time, Gerra already had his gunblade in hand. And, suspended in the air before them, he could not move a muscle.

'Gain the power to avenge us!' the girl called.

'White SeeD believes in you, Gerra!' the boy shouted.

Vargas disappeared into flame, flooding Gerra with relief. But then the children flickered out, too.

They were replaced by Firion. The image of his childhood friend was so close and vivid in the inferno that Gerra was sure that he had perished. Firion stood just feet before him with his spear and round shield. Gerra believed he had failed, that he had reached the Netherworld. The Wild Rose was going to be the one to exact punishment on him, for becoming Knight of the Empress in his place, only to betray Ultimecia. Firion would drag him to meet his Judgement and then throw the damned Gerra through the gates of Hell.

But the fallen gladiator just smiled warmly.

'You did what I never could, Brother,' Firion said. 'I have been with you every step of the way.'

Gerra felt his boots hit a solid surface, enabling him to stand before his friend. He tried to say the words he had always wanted to say to Firion. In his nightmares, his voice was always as lost to the fire as it had been with the White SeeD children. Yet this time, his voice was resonant.

'I'm sorry for what I took from you.'

Firion just shook his head softly.

'That is the way of the Sands, Brother,' Firion replied. 'Besides, my one true love was taken from me sometime before. You released me, Brother! Maria and I are reunited now, having found one another in an endless prairie of wild roses. Though you are not due in the Netherworld just yet! You still need to fulfil your fate! Go forth, Brother! Unite the Two Halves of Rubicante and put an end to the Empress!'

Gerra nodded. 'With your blessing, Brother, that task will become somewhat easier for me. Thank you.'

Firion gave him the salute of the gladiators, his fist coming up to the rose tattooed on his chest.

'We will meet again!' the Wild Rose cried, before he too joined the swirling flames.

Gerra was suddenly free. His flaming aura descended into a round chamber, wherein there was a broad ring of lava around a platform of volcanic rock. His boots landed softly upon this molten island. In its centre was Phoenix. It was between essence and solid form, still in the image of a large bird but made up of flame. Its wings did not move at all as it hovered silently.

Gerra strode toward it, his weapon in hand but the hollow tip pointed down. He stopped a respectable distance away and felt Ifrit reach out to his other half. Phoenix lowered, then its image changed into the fiery silhouette of Gerra himself, the trench coat like a curtain of fire, concentrated flames representing Hyperion so strongly in its hand it was as though it were corporeal. The hair was like black smoke, embers filling its mouth and eye sockets.

'I have come to seek your undying fire, Phoenix,' Gerra said boldly. 'To free the future from Sorceress Ultimecia's bestial grasp.'

The doppelganger spoke. 'You share the blood and fire of our former summoner! Yet you do not belong here!'

'Truly said,' Gerra answered. 'I am a descendant of Seifer Almasy, the Bloodhound of Garden. I too have served as Ultimecia's Knight, but now I seek her destruction. They call me the Undying Fire.'

The Hyperion of his mirror image came around, so the tip was angled to run Gerra through. He reflexively brought his own weapon up to deflect the thrust, but the gunblade of fire passed through it as though it were not there, entering Gerra's heart. Yet the only sensation Gerra felt was the power of the fire element filling his body as though he were channelling Ifrit's complete power. Hyperion took on the same form of his doppelganger's. With Phoenix satisfied, the gunblade of fire was withdrawn.

The doppelganger spoke again. 'I am familiar with the Descendant of Hyne that you speak of, for Seifer was manipulated by her, too. Ultimecia helped him reach me twenty years before – though she wore the body of his mother, Edea. The Bloodhound became Ifrit's bearer when he was but a cub. Nearing manhood, Seifer became only the second mortal ever to succeed in reaching my lair. Even Ultimecia could not follow him here.'

'Who was the first?' Gerra wondered aloud.

'One known as the Flaming Salamander; a bold thief from your ancient civilisations,' Phoenix answered, then continued. 'Seifer was just as potent, full of latent potential, but easily manipulated. Ultimecia chooses her Knights well. Impressed by his burning spirit, I leant Seifer my power, ignorant of Ultimecia's true intentions at first. With Edea's defeat at the Battle of the Gardens, Ultimecia could no longer communicate with Seifer. Sometime later, the Bloodhound returned to these shores with the Cyclone and the second child of Edea. Seifer sought redemption and no longer had need of my power, and so we parted. Ifrit opted to stay with Seifer, so he could better watch over his sister.'

Gerra spoke now. 'If Ultimecia is not stopped, you and Ifrit will become her slaves for the rest of time! I know this, for I am from a future where such has come to pass! As her Knight, she bestowed yours and Ifrit's power upon me. You had both been imprisoned within her magicite for centuries. In that harsh realm, she drains the life force of your brethren to augment her power, and you know what becomes of the Planet if the elements are imbalanced. I have travelled to this time to prevent the Age of Ultimecia, and have managed to delay it. The western continent has yet to fall. Although Ultimecia has now enslaved your Elder, Eden, and has accumulated more of Hyne's divided Half. Now, I wish for you and Ifrit to junction with me as free Guardian Forces, to grant me with enough power to strike Ultimecia down!'

'Eden, you say.' The doppelganger paused. 'We were loyal to Ryu during the Rebellion, which happened eons ago – as you mortals reckon time. You might be familiar with the tale. As penance, our power was split. Ifrit and I were once known as Rubicante; Ifrit being the more bestial of us in appearance, but with the more righteous mind.'

'My comrades are seeking Griever, too,' Gerra explained. 'Bahamut fights for us. Yet Ultimecia already controls Tiamat, among others!'

'Griever,' Phoenix revered. 'Our other Elder will still be in slumber. It took an unfathomable amount of power for him and Eden to split Ryu, Gaia, Raijin and I. And also to bind Diablos to the Jade Passage. If they had not deemed that the necessary judgement, then perhaps Ultimecia would not have been able to achieve what she has thus far. I will acknowledge that we are as much to blame for our peril than anything else.'

'Allow me to become your bearer, Undying One,' Gerra implored, 'and we can better stand against her. If the legend of your civil war is true, there's always the chance your Elders will restore you to your former self if you help to save Eden and the others. If we mortals can redeem ourselves, I see no reason why Guardian Forces cannot, either.'

The fiery mirror image of Hyperion intensified. It left Phoenix to obscure Gerra's own weapon, until it was absorbed unto the gunblade. The single-edged blade became the colour of molten lava, the handle the same shade of the volcanic rock beneath his feet. As was Gerra's will, the size and the shape of the weapon remained the same, so he could use it either one or two-handed.

'So it shall be, Fiery One of the Future,' Phoenix said. 'Perhaps there will come a time when Ifrit and I are known as Rubicante once again. Marilith is yours to wield, and our combined might shall be yours. As too is the gift of Rebirth, which you will only receive only once. Now, return to your comrades our rightful bearer, and we shall liberate our Elder together!'

Gerra regarded Marilith as Phoenix joined Ifrit within him. Calling it a fine weapon would be an understatement, but he remembered his promise to give the Hyperion to Seifer's son.

Is something the matter? Phoenix asked.

I almost forgot. I was only borrowing the Hyperion! I left my own behind in Fisherman's Horizon. I'll have to get it back for Seifer's son.

His mission accomplished, Gerra rose back to the lava on a pillar of fire, breaking through the surface on the other side in a fraction of the time it seemed to take on his descent. He rose through the pit to find the other three waiting anxiously, the apparition of Phoenix's wings projecting from his back as he hovered in the air. Narrow jets of flame encircled him as his companions' jaws dropped.

Marilith was in his right hand. Gerra raised it high, sending a column of fire through the crater of the volcano in a spectacle that would have been visible across the whole island.