Happy Thursday!

I hope you've all had a good day so far. Thank you all so much for your reviews and your support! It's such a joy to write for you all.

Also, huge thank you to silver-doe287 for betaing this chapter! She's the best, and caught so many of my dumb mistakes... lol

Without further ado, enjoy the chapter!


Cloud woke up with a jolt. A cold sweat clung to his skin and his clothes were rumpled and mused, as was his messy blond hair. The bed sheets were tangled and knotted at his feet. His heart hammered in his chest. Gasping breaths clawed against his throat, and though the nightmare eventually began to fade, its presence never truly lifted. His gaze darted to every flickering shadow, his fingers scrambled for his pistol with each creaking floorboard, and his mind dug up memories better left buried and forgotten.

He didn't remember falling asleep. He didn't even remember closing his eyes, and after a long moment he leaned against the rickety headboard and exhaled the tension that ached within his shoulders. Everything hurt: his head throbbed from exhaustion, his throat was parched with thirst, and his lips were cracked and dry. It was his ass that hurt the most, however; his back-to-back rides had not treated his body kindly, and when he had collected his emotions a bit better and rational thought took root, he solemnly swore to invest in a proper saddle. One with extra padding, and maybe a cup holder for the whiskey he suddenly found himself craving.

He hadn't craved whiskey in years. Truth be told, the sharp, disinfectant smell made him sick to his stomach. But at the moment, his mood was sour and his thoughts were bitter, and he figured that a long drag of whiskey would complement his current mindset quite nicely.

But dawn had yet to spill across the sky, so he decided instead to opt for a cup of black coffee as he pushed himself out of bed. The floor was chilly against his bare feet, and he quietly slipped on the rest of his equipment – namely, his gun holster, vest, and hat – before leaving his room. Zack's snoring reverberated through the hall like a beating drum, yet it was a woman's ballistic snoring that quickly overpowered Zack's. Cloud swore that even the windows rattled as he slowly made his way down the stairs.

The tavern was quiet. The enthusiastic conversations, shouts, and gambling from the night before had been replaced by patrons passed out beneath their chairs, sticky beer stains, and tables still cluttered from last night's drinks and food. But there were a few people that were still conscious; this included the man waiting behind the bar counter, and two other men eating quietly in the corner. Cloud eyed the two men as he headed towards the bar. They wore similar clothing as he did – such as wide-rimmed hats, earth-stained shirts and pants, and thick leather boots – and he immediately recognized them to be folk like himself: travelers, whose way of life also forced them to awaken before the sun did.

Their steaming plates of hash browns reminded Cloud of the entire purpose of this trip – to order a strong cup of black coffee – so he slowly turned back towards the man behind the counter. The man huffed his impatience, and Cloud knew him immediately; not only because he was the husband of the innkeeper, but also because he was the one who had cheated at cards some time ago and allowed Cloud to win quite a bit of money.

But the memory did little to lift Cloud's dreary mood, and he pushed himself into his seat with little more than a scowl and a grunt.

The man leaned forward with his hands splayed against the counter "What can I get you?" he asked. The question came out tense and forced, and it was clear that he remembered Cloud just as clearly as Cloud remembered him… and that he hated it.

But Cloud was far too tired to care, and only leaned his head against his hand and muttered, "Coffee."

"Cream or sugar?

"No." Cloud nearly added, Add a finger of whiskey, but held his tongue. He felt terrible enough as it was; his muscles ached, his eyes felt like sandpaper, and bone-deep exhaustion blurred his vision, not to mention that he had a long day ahead of him. A shot of whiskey wouldn't help his situation in the slightest.

The man sighed. "And… I'll supposed you'll want some food?"

Cloud pondered it for a moment. "Eggs," he finally decided. His eyelashes fluttered as he fought to remain conscious. "With…. toast. And jam."

"We don't got no jam here," the man replied, sounding highly offended.

Cloud closed his eyes and swallowed his sigh – what sort of backwater place didn't even have jam? - but only forced his eyes open and tried,"Honey?"

"Aye, we got honey," the man sniffed.

"Honey then."

"Yes sir." The response was clearly a force of habit, because the man immediately winced the moment the words passed through his lips, and he turned away with a sour expression.

But Cloud had hardly noticed the man's slip up, and he definitely didn't notice how the man continued to mutter vague curses under his breath as he began making a new pot of coffee. Instead, Cloud shifted in his seat so that his back was to the wall and he could watch the front door. His icy blue gaze flicked to the fogged windows, and his eyes studied every passing shadow, every vague motion, every subtle shift through the hazy, warped glass. Dread knotted cold and tight in his gut. His nerves sparked. Adrenaline sang through his blood with every sudden movement, and his fingers twitched against his pistol, fully loaded and strapped firm within its leather sheathe.

A sudden clatter beside him had him sucking in air, but it was only the man giving him his cup of coffee. The man arched an eyebrow at Cloud's pale expression, but the corner of his lips twitched upward as he said, "Here you are." He pointedly dropped the sir with a hard glint to his eyes, but when Cloud only stared and said nothing, he eventually turned away with a glower.

Cloud faintly exhaled the moment the man turned his back. Calm down, he ordered himself, and removed his fingers from the pistol in order to pinch the bridge of his nose. At this rate, he thought with a soft inhale, you're actually going to end up shooting someone.

There was some truth to that statement – it wouldn't have been the first time he had accidentally shot a man, after all – but he couldn't stop himself from shifting so that he could once again face the door. But this time, instead of keeping his fingers near his pistol, he kept his hands busy by cupping the mug between his palms. The ceramic was warm against his chilled, clammy skin. Steam curled from the brackish liquid. The scent of roasted coffee eased something within him, and he nearly groaned when the black ambrosia kissed his lips. It was bitter and watered down, as he had been expecting, yet it did wonders to lift his mood.

His mood lifted even further when the man returned with a hot plate of freshly scrambled eggs and toast. Honey, thick and golden, had sopped into the charred bread and dripped heavily down its sides. Cloud's stomach clenched in anticipation, and he couldn't help but mutter, "Thanks," as he exchanged his coin for cutlery. The man lifted his eyebrows at Cloud's appreciation, but only grunted his reply and went back to cleaning dishes or whatever innkeepers did in the dim hours of the morning.

It wasn't long before the eggs were little more than a smear of salt, pepper, and grease against the plate. As for the toast, Cloud held it gingerly between his fingers and nibbled on the least-burnt corners as his heavy eyes remained trained on the windows. His thoughts wandered; his mind travelled back home as he wondered what Tifa was doing, if she wasn't lonely by herself, if she was handling the field and the chickens okay.

But sometimes his thoughts wandered even further back, to a small shed nestled in the middle of nowhere, where the air was cloudy with tobacco smoke and flies hummed against cracked windowpanes only to drop dead in dusty corners. It was a place where the ground had been burnt and cracked by the harsh sunlight, the floorboards had creaked and the doors had groaned with every heavy footsteps, and comfort had only been found when his small hands had been wrapped around the abalone hilt of a 0.36 caliber revolver...

Without warning, a slight breeze suddenly rattled the windowpanes and Cloud started with muted panic, but it was a false alarm. Itwas always a false alarm. He forced himself to lean back in his seat, forced himself to exhale, forced himself to calm down. But there was no helping the way his boot tapped against the floor in a sharp staccato, or how his trembling hands sent fine ripples shivering within the dark coffee.

Cloud's lips pitched into a scowl. Stop being ridiculous, he told himself, his inner voice harsh and grating, and then downed the coffee. It was bitter enough to make him shudder, but beggars can't be choosers and caffeine was caffeine – he'd take what he could get at this point, and he lifted two fingers to order another.

It was only after his third cup did he finally feel something in the realm of normal, though his nerves buzzed and heart fluttered with artificial alertness as Zack joined Cloud downstairs. The dark-haired man was bleary-eyed and yawning, and he practically collapsed into the chair beside Cloud.

"Morning'," Zack managed with another yawn. He lifted a hand to draw the innkeeper's attention. "You're up early."

"Wanted to get an early start on the day," Cloud replied. It was only a half-lie; while he did want to get an early start, the only reason he had woken up early was because he hadn't meant to fall asleep in the first place. "Go ahead and order breakfast," he continued as he pushed himself out of his seat. "I'll meet you at the stables."

Zack stifled another yawn. "Sure thing."

Cloud nodded, and then returned to his room to grab the last of his meager belongings. He tried to avoid looking out the window as he collected his things, and he quickly made his way back downstairs and out into the chill morning air.

The streets of Rocket Town were quiet this early in the morning, and his breath fogged in the crisp, pre-dawn air as he made his way towards the stable. It was a peaceful walk that did much to smooth his rattled nerves. Dew clung to the morning grasses. Tree branches draped across the road, and their broad leaves dripped condensation onto his hat as he passed beneath them. He briefly checked on the herd on his way towards the stable and couldn't help but smile as he watched the cattle wander through the pasture or lounge in the tall grass. One walked up to the picket fence to greet him, and Cloud idly rubbed its nose, earning him a small noise of appreciation, before he continued on his way.

The stable was a short distance away from the pasture, and the wooden door harshly groaned as he pushed it open. Dusty light, pale and thin from the dawn still yawning across the sky, filtered in through the high windows and cracked in the ceiling.

"Morning," he murmured as he quietly made his way forward, taking care not to accidentally kick a metal bucket or trip over the hay bundled against the walls. Rain's snort immediately answered him. The next moment, her head was arching over the stall and her nostrils flared when she noticed him walking towards her. Her ears pricked forward, obviously anticipating a treat.

Seeing her so intent wrung another small smile from his lips, and he rubbed the back of her ears as she leaned forward and pressed her nose against his shoulder. He pressed his cheek into the side of her head in return and sighed, finally feeling a sense of normalcy – of safety – since he had woken up.

"I don't have a treat," he murmured. "Sorry."

Rain huffed, not believing him.

"I'll give you one later though." He patted the top of her head and ran his hands along her neck, partly to pet her, but also to feel for any sort of nicks or unexplained bumps. But everything felt fine, and he continued, "I promise. Just have to find one first."

This time, Rain loudly snorted her displeasure.

"Getting grumpy won't make the treat come any quicker."

Rain nickered, disagreeing, before she swung her head towards the door with ears pricked in sudden alertness. Cloud tensed beneath her, his grip instinctively tightening in her mane as he glanced towards the door. The morning's paranoia hissed in his veins and his fingers twitched against an imaginary trigger, but he only exhaled when he realized that it was Zack striding in through the barn doors.

Cloud nearly told Zack that he could have taken his time at breakfast, but the disgusted look Zack was wearing made him pause. Spirit seemed to notice Zack's sour mood as well, and the stallion nickered his concern as Zack ran a hand along his dark mane.

"Did something happen?" Cloud asked, when it became apparent that Zack wasn't going to initiate the conversation.

Zack harshly sighed before he turned to Cloud. "Did you try the coffee?" he demanded.

"The coffee?" The tension in Cloud's muscles melted as he arched an eyebrow. Based on Zack's expression, he had thought that Zack had gotten into a fight or something. "I did, but… why?"

"It was like having sex in a boat," Zack huffed, which had Cloud's cheeks reddening. "That's why."

Cloud thickly swallowed. Out of all the things he had been expecting Zack to say, that certainly had not been it. "Excuse me?" he managed, sounding a bit strangled. Out of all the things to compare coffee too…

And Zack, glaring all the while, replied, "That cup of coffee was fucking close to water is what I meant, and the innkeeper had the iron balls to charge me fifteen gil per cup. Fifteen gil! It's a mugging, is what that is," he added under his breath as he began preparing Spirit for their ride. "I could have gotten a decent cup of coffee in the city for two."

Cloud began to bridle Rain. "True, but at least they even had coffee out here."

Zack snorted. "You could hardly call that coffee. And if you had had some, you'd know what I mean."

"I did have some." Rain accepted the bridle with a flick of her ears, and Cloud continued, "I had three cups."

Zack turned to him, wide-eyed. "Three cups?" he echoed.

A ghost of a smile turned Cloud's lips. "That's right."

"You paid for all of that?"

"I did." He left out the part that he desperately needed it, that he hadn't gotten any sleep during the night, and he couldn't risk falling off the saddle while they crossed the mountains today.

"And three cups at that… Is that why you're so wide awake?" Zack demanded.

Cloud's lips twitched. "Maybe."

"And your hands are shaking," Zack continued. But now there was a new tone to his voice, something deeper and a little more concerned. "You also got a wild look to your eyes, too."

At that Cloud's smile became a little softer, a little sadder, and maybe even a little darker. No, his eyes weren't wild. He had lost any sort of wildness within him a long time ago, back when he had been a child and had easily mistaken anger for wisdom and a loaded pistol for strength. Of course, it had only taken a single afternoon for him to grow up, and he had realized just how wrong he was…

A snort in his ear had Cloud jolting back to his present, and he idly placed a hand against Rain's neck.

"Must be the coffee," he said, answering Zack's earlier question.

Zack's eyes narrowed. "Three cups'll do that to you?"

"Sure."

Zack frowned at him for a moment, clearly not believing him, but then shrugged and continued preparing Spirit. "How did you sleep?" he asked. His voice was deceptively calm.

Cloud didn't even look Zack's way as he replied, "Fine."

Maybe it was Cloud's clipped tone, or maybe it was the obvious bruising beneath his eyes and the way his lips were pressed into a thin line, but Zack thankfully let the matter drop and it wasn't long until both boys were saddled up. It was time to go.

The rising dawn smudged the sky in shades of pinks and oranges as Cloud and Rain made their way through the rented pasture, with Cloud counting the herd and making sure that none of the cattle were left behind. His hot breath misted his cheeks as Rain trotted through the tall grasses. Birdsong filled the air, sweet and lilting. A stray cricket sang to the watercolor clouds. Cloud sighed in a breathless puff before he tilted his hat back and let his blue gaze shift upwards.

Though the sky was warming with its shades of orange and yellow, a few stars still sprinkled the sky's dark edges. Things are better now, he reminded himself as he shifted against the hard saddle. Everything is okay, and I'm just being paranoid. He dropped his gaze back towards the pasture with a soft exhale, and his eyes flicked from oak to oak, from pine to pine, from picket fence to a wooden barn standing by its lonesome in the grasslands. Besides, he thought as his grip tightened on the reins, there's no one else here besides us and the cows.

With that thought firmly in mind, he called, "Ready to go?" across the pasture.

Zack threw a hand in the air in response and waved. Cloud waved back, and with a faint click of his heels against Rain's strong flank, she happily trotted back towards the main gate and Cloud closed it behind them.

It was time to continue their hard trip east.


The distant mountain range, which had been little more than a jagged violet-tinged smudge the day before, had grown into towering peaks and stark valleys as Cloud and Zack reached their base. The landscape was, simply put, extreme. Granite cliffs cut brutal edges into the sloping landscape. Pine trees clung to rocky outcroppings with only their roots. Rivers, which were so much bigger and deeper than the small creeks that snaked through the Strife property, angrily tore down the boulders and the bushy foliage that were unlucky enough to be in its path.

Zack whistled as he arched his head back and his eyes sought out the mountain peaks. "So this is what we're going to have to cross," he said.

His voice echoed strangely against the sheer walls of the valley, and Cloud lifted his own gaze. Snow dusted some of the mountain peaks, where their ragged edges cut deep into the clouds above them. Pine trees also became more common with the climbing altitude, and their tufts of sharp green were a welcome sight against the dull, brown landscape of stone and granite.

"The sooner we start," Cloud replied, once again shifting his weight within the saddle, "the sooner we can get this over with."

Zack harshly sighed. "Ain't that the truth," he muttered, and with a sharp yip at Spirit, the two of them made their way to the front of the herd. In the meantime Cloud remained at the back, as his eyesight was the better between him and Zack, and kept watch on the herd as Zack guided them up the thin path.

And the path was thin, thin enough that only a few cattle could stand side-by-side while trekking the mountain road, and Cloud held his breath at every bend, every steep drop, every dip in the road that would be so easy to slip down. A small fence had been erected at some of the worst turns and drop-offs, but its wood was old, peppered with holes caused by termites and weather, and emitted a ragged groan with every small breeze. There was no way it would save anything that fell off the ledge… including himself, which had Cloud swallowing thickly. He hated this part of the cattle drive.

Their progress was painfully slow due to how frail and treacherous the path was, but Cloud didn't mind their slow pace at all. Not only did it allow him to collect his thoughts, which had admittedly spiraled out of control during the morning, but the hike up would also be the hardest part of their journey today. They were lucky to hit it so early in the morning; it would have brutal to attempt the climb the mountain trail at midday, when the heat would be the strongest and the winds would undoubtedly pick up.

As they steadily gained altitude, the landscape began to change. Pine trees began growing thicker, and their trunks became warped from the high winds. Their bark flaked off onto the granite stones they grew around. Lichen stained rocks shades of oranges, yellows, and greens. Wildflowers grew alongside the trail, and their lush blooms warmed something inside Cloud as they trotted past.

The world seemed a little calmer way up in the mountains, a little brighter, and Cloud eventually found himself enjoying the steep climb up the trail. He watched, quiet and contemplative, as hawks soared between mountain peaks and he listened to their shrill cries as they spotted prey. Yet his heart couldn't help but stutter when one suddenly dipped into a sharp dive, its wings folded tight against its body, before lifting up at the last possible moment with a mouse dangling from its hooked talons.

Cloud shakily inhaled and busied himself by looking at calmer things, such as the flowers growing beside the trail and the lakes sparkling beneath them. The river, which had thrashed so wildly at the base, had significantly calmed as well as the sloping valleys smoothed and evened. The silver bodies of fish flashed beneath the crystal-clear water. Moss hugged the banks in thick blankets of green. The air tasted like sage and rosemary, and as he deeply inhaled, the nightmares finally slipped entirely away and he was able to relax.

But he never unloaded his pistol. He may feel a bit calmer, a bit more collected even, but he also wasn't stupid. Monsters roamed these lands, and he wasn't one to be caught unprepared.

Rain suddenly snorted beneath him, and Cloud managed a smile as he leaned over the saddle and scratched her behind the ears.

"How you doin', girl?" he murmured.

Rain only flicked her ears and ducked her head, tugging at the reins. Translated: this trail was boring, she couldn't see Spirit from their vantage point, and she wanted to stop and rest.

"We'll stop soon, I promise." Cloud lifted his head and squinted into the sunlight. It had gotten much brighter as the morning had crept on, and the midday heat was beginning to burn off the morning chill and mist. Yet compared to the dry heat that baked the grasslands below them, the warmth here was far kinder and far more agreeable. In fact, the temperature became almost comfortable the higher they climbed.

That didn't come as a surprise to Cloud, however. Despite the slow pace of the herd, they had made some decent progress over the past few hours. If he peered over his shoulder, he could clearly make out the rolling bed of grasslands and trees stretching out beneath the mountainside. Smoke lazily curled up from the small settlement of Rocket Town and way off in the distance, beyond the tangled oak trees and the quiet creeks winding through the rolling hillsides, he could just make out brown smear of the dry lakebed stretched beneath the horizon. He knew that his property – his home – was just a little ways beyond that, though he couldn't see it.

Maybe it was because he couldn't see his property that homesickness drove a thin nail straight into his heart. Yet realization made him smile; but not because he missed his house, and not because he missed Tifa – though he did, desperately – but because he actually had a home to miss, because having somewhere to call home was a luxury. It was a luxury he had taken for granted exactly once, and swore to never do so again.

A memory, though it was as worn and faded as a sun-bleached photograph, welled up within him with stunning clarity. His hands tightened on the reins. Hard leather dug into his bare palms, but the dull pain came as a welcome distraction – a necessary distraction, and his gaze slipped over the edge of the trail and out to the open air, where hawks continued to soar unfettered and free through the jagged valley. Their shill cries pierced the air as they cut effortlessly through the wispy clouds.

He tore his gaze away, his heart pounding, firelight flickered in his mind's eye. I'm fine, he reminded himself as a hawk cried above the winding trail. I'm fine, he told himself as the wind gusted against the granite ledges and ripped fragments off of the stone. I'm fine, he knew as pine trees rustled in the sudden breeze. I'm fine, he thought as Rain's hooves kicked at the pebbles on the road, until gravity dragged them over the edge and crushed them against the cliff.

I'm fine, he lied.

A shiver ran down his spine.

He suddenly felt like he was being watched.


After Zack and Cloud guided the herd over the pass, a new challenge awaited them: now they had to descend into the valley, which was located on just the other side of the pass. Thankfully the descent was not nearly as steep as the ascent, and as the temperature was much cooler and the sun was still high, so they could afford to take their time. Lush meadows and small lakes dominated the scenery. Tiny creeks, fed from the snow located at an ever higher altitude, spiderwebbed through the vibrant grasses and fed the flowers blooming beside it. Butterflies fluttered from bloom to bloom. The air hummed with bees and dragonflies. The lakes' mirror-like surfaces reflected the lazy clouds high above, and the scenery painted such a peaceful picture that even Cloud found himself minutely relaxing in the saddle.

The herd, no longer confined to a thin trail, immediately began to spread out. Some meandered for the creeks and drank greedily, while others preferred to linger beneath the few trees that were tall enough to offer shade. Rain immediately began trotting towards Spirit, tossing her head and nickering a happy greeting, and Spirit swished his tail and pawed the ground.

Zack pushed himself off of Spirit with a harsh groan. "Rest here?" he asked; no, demanded.

Cloud slid off his saddle as well, and his knees almost buckled underneath him. "Sure," he grunted, and he went to find himself a nice spot to relax for a bit. Zack, on the other hand, had found himself a nice tree to nap underneath, and he was now sprawled out with his legs crossed and hat shading his closed eyes. His chest gently rose and fell with every deep breath, and one of his arms was slung haphazardly around a calf that had decided to settle down with him. Rain and Spirit simply grazed together, and their tails flicked into each other to make sure the other was nearby.

Instead of catching up on sleep, Cloud had decided to sit cross-legged on one of the many granite boulders that dotted the meadow. His hat shaded his eyes as he gazed across the lakes and to the pine trees on the other side, their trunks standing tall and proud amongst the stalks of grass. Colorful wildflowers bloomed at their bases. Crickets chirped, birds sang from the branches, and every once in a while, a fish would jump in the lake and send ripples cascading towards the muddy banks.

Cloud tried to focus. He tried to calm down, yet his nerves buzzed with nervous energy and his hard gaze flicked from tree to tree, boulder to boulder, mountain peak to mountain peak. His pistol sat on his lap, loaded and at the ready. His boots tapped against the lichen-stained stone in rapt impatience. A stick would occasionally break and cause him to startle, but it would either be a deer, a marmot, or a curious chipmunk wondering what was going on.

But it was never a person.

It was never Sephiroth.

Cloud's grip tightened on his pistol as he harshly exhaled. You're being stupid again, he told himself, his tone harsh. While the wanted poster had said that Sephiroth was heading west following his escape from the Midgar Jail, that certainly didn't mean that Sephiroth was here. He was being paranoid – again. After all, there was plenty of land between here in Midgar, not to mention two continents and an entire ocean, and the chances that Sephiroth would be on this exact mountain, on this exact day, was astronomically low. So low, in fact, that it was practically laughable. No rational person would even be concerned by it.

Cloud slowly exhaled, closed his eyes, and desperately tried to be rational. I should really get some sleep, he told himself. Exhaustion was only making his paranoia – the same paranoia that had chased him ever since he saw that damn poster back in Rocket Town – so much worse. And really, there was probably nothing to worry about. They were in the middle of the mountains. There was no one else around for miles.

Probably.

But what if you're wrong, his mind whispered in the dark, and Sephiroth is just over that hill?

Cloud thickly swallowed as anxiety sang in his blood, its tune sharp and off-key.

What if he found you again? his mind continued to taunt. What if he wanted revenge for your betrayal, even though he saved you?

Cloud squeezed his eyes shut, and just like that, an image suddenly fluttered through his mind's eye: a shattered beer bottle, a large body sprawled the floor, an abalone-hilt pistol still smoking in Sephiroth's small hands…

… and he snapped his eyes open, his heart pounding hard and erratic beneath his ribcage. A bird cried out in the distance. A dry wind hushed through the valley, and the trees rustled beneath it. Birds continued to sing, and he slowly, painfully exhaled, one hand clenched around his pistol and the other snagging the fabric above his chest.

It's fine, he told himself as he slowly lifted his gaze, out across the lake and to the pines standing tall on the other side. I'm in the middle of nowhere. There's no one else here besides me, Zack, the horses, and the herd. He thickly swallowed and lifted his gaze a bit higher, where the meadow ascended the valley until granite and broken stone cut it off in a hard line. It's fine. Still his eyes climbed, until the stones and lichen became dusted with snow, and then he dragged his gaze to the ridge. It's fi -

His heart stopped dead in his chest.

There, just peaking above the nearby ridge, was a rider astride a silver mare. But it wasn't the mare that had Cloud staring speechless, nor was it how the horse pawed the ground and set bits of stone cascading down the hill's steep slope that had Cloud inhaling a jagged breath. Instead, it was the rider's silver hair that had Cloud strangled. How though the rider's eyes were hidden beneath his hat, there was no mistaking the green glint to his gaze, nor the cruel smirk to his lips as he looked down over the ridge… directly at him.

"No." Cloud's voice was little more than a shivering breath between his lips. "Please, no."

He didn't know what he was praying to; he didn't believe in the gods, and he certainly didn't believe in any other higher power. Yet pray he did, even as the rider inclined his hat towards Cloud in greeting before turning his mare around, only to disappear down the other end of the ridge a moment later.

Cloud sharply exhaled the breath he had been holding, and his hand clawed at his chest; it was suddenly very difficult to breathe.

No, he thought, and his internal voice was withered and pained. No, no, no.

That… That couldn't have been him. The chances were so astronomically low, the probability so faint that it should have been pointless to think about, and he had to have just be getting paranoid…

Except there was no denying what his eyes had just seen. What he had just witnessed over that ridge.

It was him.

It was Sephiroth.

Cloud squeezed his eyes shut. His brother had escaped from jail, had somehow found him, and was now here to settle old debts.

The wind whispered through the valley with a ghostly howl.


Sorry about that XD there is nothing I can say to defend myself.

If you want chapter five previews (or just want to yell at me because, yeah, my bad lol), feel free to follow me on twitter (Rand0mSmil3z). You can also find a link to my Ko-Fi page there too if you'd like to support my writing via caffeine, but of course, there is absolutely no pressure to do so - if you're happy with the story, then i'm happy :)

Until the next update - have a good one, and I wish you all the best :)