Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. I do not profit from this writing.

Prompt 003

Can You Hear Me?

A fourteen year old Terra skulked through the ice and snow, head bowed down beneath her cloak against the elements. She was reminded of the ice-bears, who covered their noses in these white regions so that the dot of black amid miles of pure nothing could not give them away. She shrugged the thick, white material closer to her body, not happy in the slightest that she had chosen to wear red that day.

Of course, there were two very distinct reasons for why the colour found its way into much of her wardrobe, and one of them was her mentor, Kefka Palazzo. Simply put, he liked the colour – and he wore it a lot. Because Terra liked him, she wore red, and through that, she decided she liked the colour very much. It flattered her in a way other colours did not. It made her eyes seem brighter and her skin seem creamier and her form, which was somewhere between a woman and a girl's now, seem more willowy and mature. Of course, the cut usually had something to do with that, although in this weather she was dressed in a more conservative manner. The problem, of course, was that the white cloak could not hide it all, and so the red stuck out across the vast spanse of white, dotted with the flora and fauna of an ice-city, like a sore thumb.

A sore thumb that Kefka was slowly closing in on.

The idea, as she had been told, was to make it from one side to the other without being caught. It was to teach her stealth and infiltration – and, unfortunately, endurance. There were magical traps scattered throughout the "course" (a mostly-abandoned town far in the north which served as a good area for Kefka's purposes), and she had to either avoid them or dismantle them along the way. She'd set a few off by mistake, which was why he was so close to begin with. Up until that point, she'd actually done well at avoiding him, but she'd made a few fatal errors which she no doubt would hear about later when (she hoped) there would be warmer surroundings.

She dropped down on the other side of a ridge created where the snow had begun to run off of a small dugout and froze, which created a sort of psuedo-shelter for the moment, and checked her supplies. She was thirsty, but when she fished her water from her small pack, she realized it was frozen. Rather than work to unfreeze it, she cried out with anger and flung it some twenty paces away from her. She covered her face with her hands, emotions ranging from incredible frustration to dark satire passing through her.

She had no idea how much time had passed as she sat down in her little private hole, recuperating some of her energy. She regretted throwing the water, but it was completely vanished beneath the thick snow now, and she wasn't about to go and dig it out. She considered very briefly just waiting until they found her, but she decided that would be as good as a surrender, and she didn't think that would sit well with Kefka. In fact, she firmly believed in doing so, she'd end up out here every day for a year until he was satisfied she'd learned her lesson. No, it was best to press on.

She popped back out and clenched her hands down on her cloak, emerging from her shelter just as the ice-scattered wind around her dulled to a light, steady sprinkle of flakes. The visibility was high for her, which meant it was high for everyone else who was trying to close in. Kefka had with him several dozens of men, all of whom she could evade but they were troublesome nonetheless, especially regarding their scouting tactics. The odds were obviously against her, but wasn't that the point? He was convinced she could do it. It was an inspiring sort of confidence, and one that gave her the ability to move; whether she admitted that or not to him later would remain to be seen. She felt it a bit too sentimental, and he had never seemed to be one for that sort of thing.

She saw the entrance of the town by way of a long wooden signpost that was sticking out, just barely, in the midst of a snow drift. She darted towards it, the snow thick beneath her feet. It caused her to run awkwardly, a sort of leap-bound, leap-bound, leap-bound pace that was not unlike running in sand, except if the sand were up to her knees. Her skin tingled as she closed in, and she realized that the entire width of the path leading into the town was rigged – she could feel the magic rippling from it like a liquid sort of wall.

Of course, she thought to herself. You'd never make it that easy. She smiled a little with the shake of her head, and raised her hands. It was a thick wall, one that would take some moderate concentration to remove, but she was sure she could do it. The mechanics of the spell were the same as one she'd encountered before, although this one was larger. It was a relief from the explosive trap she'd found, one of which had given her a small daze which she took several hours to walk off completely. It left her with a horrible buzzing in her ear; she could only assume it was residual from the energy still clinging to her. That was the last time she ever stuck her hand in a trap laced with that lightning magic, that was for sure.

Terra began to heat up from the natural demand that using her energy took from her, and she stupidly removed her cloak. She could almost feel the hole she'd put right into the middle of the blockade, and if she could just make it a little bigger, she could dart through and get to her destination. Her lips were chalky as she pressed them together, and she cursed herself again for throwing her water aside. The cloak now cast down at her booted feet, she flexed her fingers and had another go at the wall. She felt something brush against her energy, and realized that there was something imbued in the wall – what the f -

She didn't even see him coming until it was too late. Bright red and white light exploded around her – or was it just in her vision? It flashed and then dotted, and she felt very suddenly like she'd been struck with ten-thousand arrows, but they were all over, not just at her back. They were in her chest, her lungs, her eyes. She cried out sharply, but it was a brief yelp cut off by the silence that came hand in hand with the black that took her vision.

She could still feel, and so instinctively, knowing she had fallen forward, she plunged her hands into the snow and began to scramble towards the barrier. She could make it through like this, she reckoned. Kefka was close by; she could sense him, but she couldn't see him (then again she couldn't see anything). She could feel her breathing in her chest as the cold air went in and out, ragged and like needles. Everything was still black and her fingers burned from the icy ground. She didn't even realize she wasn't actually moving any further.

When she opened her eyes, she was on her back, and everything was gray and fuzzy. Above her, Kefka leaned down, blue eyes wide and brows knitted with an emotion she had never seen before – fear? No, it wasn't. It was something else – and he was blurry on the edges, like in a dream. His lips were moving, but she couldn't hear anything except for an incredibly high-pitched hum, and it seemed to envelope even her most basic of senses. She tried to raise a hand, to count her own fingers, and she realized that the hand she wanted to move was already raised – and folded within his own. And she could not feel it. She wanted to scream, but instead made no sound as her eyes darted from left to right. His fear she was unsure of, but hers was absolute. Was she paralyzed? Was she dying? Incoherent and abstract shapes drew in around her, the faces of the other men coming into focus briefly.

She could not hear him, but she could see his head jerk up. His face twisted into an angry snarl and he waved them away with his other hand; vaguely, as though a memory, she could feel heat rising off of him in his outburst of command. And... panic.

He looked back down at her again, leaning closer to her face.

"...ear me.. n yo.. me.. EAR ME.. TERRA, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

She found the presence of mind somewhere along the way to nod, blinking her eyes rapidly. At once she was swept by her upper torso, buried within his arms. He was shaking from the cold (from the cold?) and saying something to himself that she could not hear, because that buzzing was still stealing most of her ability to think straight.

"What... happened?" she choked finally.

"An accident," came his reply, his eyes still thoroughly covering her, checking for blood or bruising or – he didn't know, really, anything. "I spotted you and decided to surprise you. I didn't realize that you were so close to undoing the gate. There was another trap inside of it – meant only to sting, Terra," he added, his voice low. "It all just happened at once. I got here as fast as I could," he said, looking incredibly guilty. He would never forget the image of her on auto-pilot, desperately trying to make it for the finish line. It made his stomach turn in a way that caused bile to rise to the back of his throat.

"It's fine," she said, even though she didn't feel fine at all. She didn't know why she was offering him this when he'd nearly splattered her across the snow, but she was. She felt it may be the same reason she didn't tell him why she wore red. "It's fine, it's fine," she breathed. She could feel her fingers now, and her toes – and the rest of her, and for that matter, she was freezing. "Can you please take me inside?"

She didn't trust herself to walk, and so she allowed her dignity to take a backseat to being hoisted up and carried, just this once. She rested her head against the crook of his neck, ignoring how she could still feel his collarbone even through layers of fabric meant to keep the chill out. He was losing weight, and it worried her. She closed her eyes, weary despite the excitement, and drifted away to the sounds of his voice softly saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again, like a haunting melody that ripped her heart in two.