Chapter Fifty-Five: Little Whispers
Aralyn was still walking at sunset, the promising weight of the bedroll and small tent she had brought appealing to her weary body, but not her determined mind. She adjusted the small pack on her back so that the frayed straps didn't dig so much into her shoulder. She was grateful for the cold that was numbing her slowly, but she pulled her coat closer so she wouldn't freeze.
This place had changed since she had been here last. The village of Nibelheim looked as it always did: small, quaint little homes bunched close together nestled at the entrance of the narrow mountain pass. She saw the sign of the inn, and the familiar gate of Shinra Manor, its windows dark with age and dangerous secrets. Shinra had rebuilt the town from the ashes, to hide what had been done here, but nothing Shinra could do would erase the pall that remained. It felt like a haunted town, with the citizens only going on in some pretense of everyday life.
She passed through the town quickly, without meeting anyone's eyes, trying not to think about what had happened here those long years ago.
Even though she was determined not to stop, fatigue eventually drew her to her knees, her breathing coming much harder than it should have. Hating herself for the delay, she still surrendered, reasoning that surely an hour of rest wouldn't hurt. She laid out the bedroll where she was and crawled under the blanket, turning her face to the stars.
She curled up, suddenly recognizing the shortness of breath as only the first of the symptoms. She shouldn't have lain down, she realized. She should have pressed on…fought as long as she could…
Something dark passed above her in the sky, hiding the stars as it passed. A black feather fell beside her.
It's just a crow…just a crow…it couldn't be him…
Whatever it was, it didn't come to her aid as the sickness ravaged her body yet again, leaving her to suffer alone in the dark.
She saw a light, warm and soothing, that flooded her vision. Confused, she tried to speak, but couldn't. She felt like she was in water. Waves flowed over her body, washing away the pain and renewing her strength. She began to breathe again, and the air was sweet and fragrant.
"Just a little longer," a woman's voice consoled. Cool, healing hands were on her forehead. "I promise, just hang on, okay?"
She wasn't conscious long enough to identify the owner of the voice, but her sleep was peaceful.
Cloud sat at one of the tables, taking a passing glance at the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning, and Marlene was still crying, frightened from nightmares of horrors that she didn't dare to voice aloud. "Aralyn," the little girl called, still in her half dream state. Tifa hushed the girl as best she could, but was ultimately powerless.
She wasn't the only one plagued with visions of what might have been. Cloud had been up since midnight himself, and by the circles under her eyes, he assumed that Tifa had been similarly affected. Even Yuffie had lost her bounce.
"Cloud?"
Cloud raised his head, not realizing that it had fallen, and got to his feet. Climbing the stairs, he entered Marlene's room and looked to Tifa. "Did you call me?"
Tifa looked away from the child's troubled face and met his gaze. "No," she said, confused. "Did you hear something?"
Cloud nodded and turned away. "Probably just hallucinating; we're all tired."
When he was alone downstairs, the voice called again. "Cloud?"
Cloud was shocked into speaking aloud. "Aerith?"
"Faramir?" Kadaj asked, disbelieving. His expression soon turned from inquisitive to threatening. "If you are lying about this, I swear you will die here and now."
"That's what's got Cloud and the others so worked up," Verian replied. "And Vincent's supposedly gone to stop her."
"Ha!" Kadaj scoffed, laughing subtly. "As if there's a man alive that could accomplish that. Let him try, he won't get far anyways. He has no directions and no way to get them."
"I suppose you know where this Faramir is, then?"
Kadaj's gaze darkened and turned hard and cold. "I am in the service of the only man in existence who can pinpoint it exactly, and yet it does me no good!"
"Can we get it from him?" Verian ventured.
Kadaj began to pace. "To even say that blasted girl's name is treason. To inquire into their private lives…unthinkable." He stopped abruptly, looking at the moon as a cruel smile crept across his face.
"But…I think I know of a way that we can use this little setback to our advantage…"
Verian, who had long since gotten used to the inhuman malice in his fellow conspirator, was suddenly reminded that he knew nothing about the lengths Kadaj would go to in order to see his revenge through.