Chapter Seventy-Four: Final Wish

Aralyn wasn't on the ground when she woke up.

She put her palms firmly beneath her and pushed, finding that her hands met with silk, and she lay on something soft. The heavy weights on her body were quilts.

She was in a bed. Her bed. In Faramir. She knew it before she opened her eyes.

She was surrounded by a sea of scarlet silk, the limits of the bed extending past her outstretched arms. The familiar comforter was a soft, embroidered white, but it had been covered by at least five multi-colored blankets.

She looked around, confused, wondering if she had passed into the afterlife. She was sure she hadn't had the strength to rise and walk here after she had collapsed.

Her answer came as a wet nose peeked its way over the top of the tall bed. It moved around a bit, smelling the air, and then a gray, majestic wolf leapt onto the bed, a dark blue, plaid blanket clasped between its jaws. Carefully, the wolf proceeded to drag one end to the other side and spread it quite evenly using its paws and grabbing and pulling the corners into place with its jaws.

"Zack?" Aralyn asked.

The great dog continued with the blanket, but when he was done with his task, he sat on his haunches next to Aralyn, tilting his head to the side and perking his ears up brightly.

"Is that really you?"

The wolf shook its head and let its tongue dangle in a comical face. Aralyn laughed softly, reaching up and scratching between Zack's ears. "How could I have doubted, old friend?"

He nudged her under the chin with his nose, lifting her head so she didn't look quite so forlorn. Eyes lighting with approval, he then proceeded to curl up at her feet.

"Zack?"

The wolf turned his head.

"Am I…dead?"

Zack withdrew his lazily hanging tongue and closed his mouth, raising himself to his paws. He got up close to her and made a gesture that seemed similar to a shake of the head.

"But it won't be long…you know that, right?"

The wolf whimpered, pushing her down from her half-sitting position.

"Do you know where Sephiroth is, Zack?"

Unexpectedly, Zack's lips curled into a snarl, baring canine teeth as a dark, low rumble escaped from deep in his chest. His ears were back, his muscles tense and coiled. She was reminded that a very powerful creature was now her caretaker.

"Aerith said that I needed to find him."

Zack barked violently, shaking her deeply. Rage was in his clear, blue eyes, but Aralyn looked deeper and saw the true driving force: fear.

She tried to rise yet again but he leapt on her stomach, and Zack was too great a dog to try to fight against. "Zack, please," she pleaded. "I want to see him…talk to him before I…"

That struck the wolf hard, she could see it in his eyes. They hadn't changed from their sky blue color, even now, when he had to take the form of a wolf to walk in the mortal realm. Reluctantly, he withdrew and stood in the doorway, his tail between his legs submissively.

Aralyn stood shakily and followed the wolf out the door, urging him on when he hesitated. There was a quirk in the canine's stride that Aralyn couldn't decipher.

It didn't matter. She would see her husband again.

Even if it killed her.

Vincent managed to slip away from the rest of the group as the trail wound into the denser thickets. Ideally, no one would realize he had gone until he was too far away to be stopped. That was highly likely, as everyone was more concerned about the welfare of Aralyn than on guarding the ex-Turk.

He was also worried for Aralyn, but for far different reasons.

He knew that Verian's tale was, at best, only half true. Whether or not Sephiroth actually had Aralyn in his possession was of little relevance. It wasn't Sephiroth that endangered Aralyn so greatly. What mainly what worried him was Avalanche.

What he did know was that Kadaj and Verian would make sure that Aralyn was present for the impending battle.

That was the one factor that he could control.

He wasn't sure if Aralyn would listen to reason, but he had concluded that he wouldn't…couldn't…hesitate to use force if necessary. It was better for her to be rendered unconscious and suffer minor bruising than to charge blindly into the imminent battle, where she would surely be killed.

He ran quickly, not bothering to cover his tracks in the dirt or the trail he left in the greenery around him as he tore through the wood. If someone followed him, the worst that could happen was that they would be led to Aralyn, and he could and would protect her with his life.

It was pure chance that he had been forced to a dead end by a rivulet of water that trickled serenely over polished rocks. He kneeled and cupped the sweet, frigid water in his hands, partaking quickly but gratefully.

While he was down, he noticed two sets of tracks along the riverbank. The first was that of a wolf or very large dog, and parallel to those, the prints of a young woman.

Zack?

He didn't have time to question. He took off at a dead sprint. The terrain became rockier, and he had to watch his footing, sacrificing precious seconds and hating himself for it.

It wasn't enough.

Distantly, he could hear that the fight between Avalanche and Sephiroth had begun in a clearing. Zack and Aralyn's footprints deepened with the force their legs had exerted to run into the fray.

There was no stopping the cataclysm that would occur.