Edge was a welcome sight to Serah as she crested a hill lending her a view of the city. Its skyline was small compared to what Midgar offered even in its ruined state, but people milled about in Edge's streets and showed life that Midgar lost years ago. The fog of pollution had dispersed from Midgar, and little of it hung over Edge.
A breeze rustled the grass and teased Serah's hair, bringing with it a slight chill. She looked to see clouds gathering on the horizon and kicked at her chocobo to hurry it on.
Scenery passed, reminding her of Cocoon despite the gritty atmosphere. It may not have the same glimmering lights and shining streets, but it held the population she'd grown used to in Cocoon. Pulse was emptier and full of struggle for the first year, which taught her a lot of things, but she missed the everyday comforts of home. She missed normal life with Lightning when they were girls and life was more about working to put food on the table than fighting for survival against vengeful gods.
"Miss Farron!" one girl cried at the sight of her. "You're back already!"
She smiled and paused to dismount, taking the reins of her chocobo in hand before stooping down to look at the girl. "Marlene," Serah said, noting the girl's new white dress. "How've you been?"
"Same old." Marlene flexed her fingers inside tight leather gloves. "Denzel blacked out the other day, but that isn't new."
"Have you been keeping up with your homework?"
Marlene nodded and followed Serah through the milling streets. "Tifa says I'm getting better at my mathematics!"
"Good," Serah took them through a small tunnel that led to her house. "How about your history?"
"It's stupid. What are the old habits of Midgar going to help me with in my life?"
"If we don't learn from the past," Serah said, quoting an old source from Cocoon, "then we become the past and mankind doesn't progress."
"But I'm not gonna hurt the planet," Marlene protested. "I couldn't even if I wanted to! Shinra's gone, and I wouldn't work for them anyway."
"I'm sure you wouldn't, but you never know when someone similar is going to come along. This way, you can distinguish the patterns and tell people from their actions instead of their claimed goals."
Marlene folded her arms and huffed. "I don't like it."
They arrived at Serah's house and she took Snowflake to his shelter before pulling out a handful of greens. He earned a treat after such a trip, no matter how short. "If you want help," Serah said, "I'll be in town for a while. I don't have any other jobs to do for a few days."
"I don't know." Marlene kicked at the ground. "No one can make me like history."
"Doesn't mean you can't learn it." Serah petted down the chocobo and turned to Marlene. "I can't force you to like it, but I can make learning it more interesting. How about we try a game?"
"A game?"
"Yes." Serah held up a hand. "Name a major incident in recent years that involved Jenova."
Marlene's eyes shot wide open. "What?"
"Rise of Shinra," Serah said. "The Jenova project occurred around the time of Shinra's growing power, and the project served to strengthen their hold and influence. What about the Turks?"
Marlene visibly scrambled for an answer. "War with Avalanche!"
"Yup." Serah put her hands on her hips. "Make a competition out of it with Denzel and have your parents moderate. You'll learn the material in no time!"
Marlene frowned. "But I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"Because it's dumb."
Serah sighed. "Now you're just being difficult."
"I'm being honest!"
"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Serah straightened and puffed out her chest. "But do you know how much you'll regret it if you don't take the time now to learn? Payment comes due eventually, you know."
"What does that mean?"
"Miss Farron!"
Serah drew up short and looked up to find Denzel running their way.
"Miss Farron," Denzel huffed, stopping a few feet from them. He placed his free hand on his knee and used a pole in his other hand to support himself. "I have a message."
Serah blinked. "Who from?"
"Why aren't you at work?" Marlene demanded.
He brandished a long, metal pipe in his hand. "I'm on my way. Miss Farron, Aerith says you'll have a visitor soon."
"Aerith?" Serah looked around them. "Isn't she the flower lady from the church? Didn't she die before Meteor?"
"Yes." Denzel visibly swallowed, and she made out a hint of panic in his eyes. "But-"
"Never mind." Serah smiled and waved a hand. "I get it."
"You do?" Denzel and Marlene spoke in tandem.
"Of course." It wasn't like she was unfamiliar with dead spirits. "Let her know I say thanks for the information."
"She says you're welcome," Denzel blurted, then flushed. "And that you look nice today."
That gave Serah pause. "… Why can't I see her?"
Denzel blinked and looked to his side. Then back to Serah. "Because the deaths of gods change… something to do with realms and interdimensional communication. She also says it's easier to communicate with one living person than a room full of them"
"Anyway," Marlene said, "Tifa doesn't like it when I stay out for long at all."
"Right." Serah snapped out of her reverie. "Of course. I don't want to keep you."
"Don't worry about it, Miss Farron," Marlene said, "Tifa wants you to come over sometime! We've temporarily shut down the bar for repairs and we've got some extra time to hang out today."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Denzel and Marlene waved goodbye and Serah turned to go back inside, thoughts still racing. She wasn't the only one.
Inside, she found her house for this world. Trinkets that she'd found in her travels all sat aligned in one bookshelf, the special ones that she deigned not to sell.
She wasn't the only one searching, right? What if Snow was out there right now, looking for her? Was he also trapped on his world, or had he found a way off?
Her house felt empty without him. The kitchen and bedroom were void of any sound, though they smelled like curry. It was all she could think to make lately, and it reminded her of home with its similarities to what they ate on Cocoon.
Serah moved through the house, not bothering to unpack this time. She would probably leave soon anyway. Eyes lingering on her bed in the far room, she wondered if it would be worth a nap to try to glean any other memories she might have.
"Snow," Serah dared let the sound grace her tongue. She hadn't spoken his name out loud in years. Not since her first dream. "Where are you, Snow?"
Past one of those gates, probably. She was tempted to go right back out, but she'd trained herself to take it slow and careful after she nearly got herself and Tifa killed last year. She couldn't afford to jump in without looking – the currents of time and space weren't kind forces, and they had no lenience for recklessness.
Taking a deep breath to still her heart and quiet her anticipation, Serah moved to the kitchen. She could afford to take food to the Strifes – she hadn't spoken with Cloud and Tifa in days, and she missed interacting with people who understood what it was like to have the cosmos toy with their life.
Something rippled in her conscience, like when her ears plugged up and sound was reduced to muffled noise. Something echoed in the space of her room, but there came no distinct sound with it.
"Enter I, Gabranth of Archadia."
"Are you the visitor?" Serah placed a hand to her head as if she could block out the sound. "Who are you?"
"A representative from the realm of the dead." A vibration moved through her skull. "You are one of those sought by the servants of Mwynn?"
"What?" Serah stood and looked around her. "No? Where are you?"
"Within. There is no point to looking. Listen instead, for I would converse on topics critical to the welfare of our known universe."
Serah swallowed hard and looked out the window, at the people roaming Edge's streets. "You know about Bhunivelze and what He did?"
"Indeed." A sensation like cold dread filled her stomach, though Serah didn't feel any fear. "The sleeping goddess, the creator, Mwynn. She is His originator and now has deployed various agents throughout the worlds to see Her work done."
"She's the same as Bhunivelze?"
"We can only assume such." Another ripple of dread. "And we must err on the side of caution lest we stumble into the very threats that face our existence. I will speak candidly – one agent searches for you as we speak and we cannot let them take you where they please. Not until we know their goal at the very least."
"Okay." Serah watched faces pass outside. "So… I shouldn't talk to people?"
"… Perhaps not."
Serah raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. Who was she to contradict the disembodied voice in her head?
"You've yet to make a mastery of your powers."
Serah nodded, though the muscles in her neck felt stiff. Kept her eyes outside and found a man accompanied by a dark-skinned and white-haired bunny woman. They conversed in a calm manner, body language reflecting a certain comfort together.
Within, Gabranth turned up short. Shock and the faintest fear muddled her senses for a moment and Serah caught a whiff of familiarity. Of nostalgia.
"Ignore that for the present." The two passed out of view. "They are not our problem."
"Oh!" Serah jumped to her feet. "The Strifes!"
"I don't understand how this is a concern to be-"
Serah blocked the presence from her mind for a moment. She had to figure out her next visit with the family and she couldn't believe she didn't think to coordinate with Denzel and Marlene earlier.
Denzel crouched low, pressed his free hand against the wood, and felt the grain against his skin. His other hand gripped his trusty pole, ready for the moment that tiny claws skittered his way.
"I swear we don't usually have this problem," said the housekeeper – a lithe woman with flowing, purple hair and tight clothes. She sat atop a stool in the middle of the kitchen floor. "But the rain's chasing them in and I can't afford to let them gather."
Denzel glanced up to see the grey clouds outside. No rain hit the windows, but he doubted that would last long.
Skittering across the wood.
Denzel whipped his pole forward and slammed the mouse backward. It hit the wall with a tiny squeal, then slammed to the ground. It zipped away from him and toward the trap laid underneath the next table. Another squeal.
Denzel stood and adjusted his grip on his pole. "That should be the last of them."
"Oh, good." A relieved smile broke across the woman's face and she climbed off the stool. "Is there any way to keep them out for good?"
He scrunched up his face in thought. "Not much. You can protect your food by putting it up high, but I've never seen a house be impenetrable unless you litter the ground with poison."
The relief faded. "Oh."
"But rain season should end in another week." Denzel looked about them. "This won't last much longer."
"Good, good." The housekeeper smoothed down her dark pants. "I don't know that my job could last another week."
She paid him 1500 gil and sent him on his way. Pest control wasn't as fun as working with the auto shop, and it didn't pay quite as much, but Denzel still felt the new coins in his pocket as an encouraging weight. It would pay for the materials needed to polish the bar area after the glass got cleaned up, though not much more. And maybe he could finally get some of those parts he needed for his bike.
His project sat, neglected, in their garage back home, but he likely wouldn't get to work with its haphazard engine just yet. Soon, he'd install the exhaust system and tank and after that, he would only have to worry about the little stuff before he got to add exterior plating.
He swung his pole about in his hand and savored its scratched and roughened surface. Twisted it about him a few times before letting it fall idle again at his side.
It wasn't a long walk home, but he ducked through an alleyway for a shortcut and again through a grocer's backyard. Old miss Hollen didn't worry about that kind of thing like Mr. Crane did.
Some darker alleys led away from the familiar part of town and he couldn't help a glance down one. Some man in a fine suit passed by at the other end and Denzel could swear that man returned the glance.
Got back on the way home.
He was one street away from Seventh Heaven when he heard a scuffle not five yards from where he stood. He gripped his pole closer, moved his coins between pockets for distribution and less clanging, then turned the corner.
And found Marlene brawling with two boys twice her age. One took her by the shoulder and pummeled her in the stomach.
She hit the ground and Denzel's blood went cold. He rushed in with a cry, pipe swinging.
Both boys perked up at his approach and Marlene scrambled back to her feet. Denzel took the first one in the knees. The boy screamed and dropped.
The other one rammed into Denzel with a large hand and sent him crashing into the concrete. His head cracked against it and stars filled his view before the pain set in.
His pipe was wrenched away and Denzel blinked out the stars just in time to see the bigger kid raise it above him.
Only to get tackled by Marlene.
Denzel groaned and struggled to get to his feet. The smaller kid that he hit in the knees stumbled his way.
Denzel forced himself up and put out his fists like Tifa would.
The guy moved at a sluggish pace and Denzel's mind blanked. He lowered his fists and approached the guy.
"No!" The bigger one slammed into Denzel. They both hit the concrete.
Marlene screamed and took the big one again. She kicked at him and dragged him away from Denzel.
Denzel blinked more spots out of his view. Marlene hit the ground beside him.
The bigger boy tossed the pipe aside with a clatter and drops of rain hit the ground about them, causing scattered dots of darker color. Felt it on his skin.
"Pathetic," one of them mumbled before gesturing to the other. "Let's go, Bin."
Denzel rolled onto his back and sucked in a deep breath against the aching in his stomach. It caused a stinging sensation in his lungs.
As the footsteps faded, Denzel pulled out his staff and started up a cure spell from the materia inside. His head pounded while the energy drew itself from him.
He turned to Marlene, who had blood dripping from scrapes on her face, arm, and knee. Her braided hair had turned frizzy and partially-loose from the scuffle, and she blinked bleary eyes against the rain.
Before he could finish the cure, Marlene slapped his hand away and shot to her feet. "I had them! Why did you interrupt me?"
He drew up short, cure evaporating. Stomach still hurt. "Because-"
"Do you think I'm not strong enough to take care of myself?!"
"No!" Denzel pulled himself upright. "I just want to help!"
"I don't need help!" Marlene turned on her heel. "I'm just fine by myself!"
Denzel remained frozen to the spot for a moment, confusion riddling his thoughts. His eyes stung, and it took a moment to realize that his cheeks were hot with tears that mixed with the drizzling rain. He scrubbed the wetness away before crawling to his staff and taking it up.
The adrenaline faded, leaving his body aching. Marlene disappeared around the corner and he knew there was no way he'd catch up.
After walking a few steps, he found his left foot hurt to use, so he leveraged his pole to keep the pressure off. He was used to sprained ankles as a worker for Triple S, but that was a while ago and the pain brought more tears to his eyes.
Odin, what a wimp he was.
Denzel focused on the clinking of coins in his pocket to remind himself he had something to look forward to back home. Tifa and Cloud at least would be glad to know he would cover some of the expenses for them, even if Marlene was upset again.
People passed. He watched the ground, wary of holes in the asphalt or litter that could catch his pole.
He couldn't help the feeling of eyes that bore into him, of someone watching from afar. He didn't look up – didn't want to see what it was that followed. Instead, he kept his gaze on the ground and waited for the feeling to pass.
It never did.
A/N: I'mma switch to posting on Saturdays by my time because I started an internship that includes Fridays.
