The boy had stepped out of thin air, directly into Aerith's favorite lily patch. She knew she should have been concerned for the flowers, but as the scream ripped from her throat, all she could think about was the Human standing there.
He was a small, wretched thing—far too skinny with his bones uncomfortably close to the surface of his skin. His clothes were a mottled dull grey, a color so bland and lifeless that she didn't understand why anyone would want to make clothing out of it. The only real color to him was his hair—a shocking, spiky mess, that instantly made her think of a chocobo—and his ocean-blue eyes.
In response to her scream, he held out a hand, reaching toward her. "Wait, I'm here to help you!"
Concern laced his voice, but the words made absolutely no sense. Help her? With what? She didn't need any help. Was this some kind of Human trick? Something to get her to lower her guard so he could get close and then kill her?
Aerith wasn't going to fall for it. She jumped to her feet, spinning to run away as fast as she could. Unfortunately, in her haste, her feet tangled together—one of her ankles twisting—and she crashed to the ground, a small cry of pain escaping her lips.
The boy moved with surprising swiftness, dropping to a knee at her side and gently resting a hand on her arm. "Wait, don't run! I don't know what's going on but we have to get back to Midgar!"
Midgar? Aerith knew from stories her father had told her that was the name of the Human's city. He was trying to kidnap her! "No! I'm not going! Help!" she screamed.
He looked at her in confusion, his hand tensing slightly. "I'm trying to help you. How long have you been stuck out here? I think you might be heat-sick. It's not safe outside the city, it's a barren . . . wasteland . . ." His voice trailed off as he looked around the clearing once again. "Where are we?" he asked in a small, sad-sounding whisper.
"Just outside Farstar." Aerith clapped a hand over her mouth. Why had she answered?! She tried getting to her feet but dropped back to the ground with a grunt of pain—her ankle hurt too much to put any weight on it.
"Farstar? I've never even—"
The boy was cut off as another voice called out, "Aerith?! Aerith, are you alright?"
The sound of her mother's voice instantly soothed her. Everything would be alright now. She would know what to do, how to take care of this strange boy. "I'm here, Mom!" she called, smiling in relief as Ifalna burst into the clearing.
"I heard you scream, what happened? Are you—" She came to an abrupt halt, her eyes widening in a mixture of shock and horror as she saw the boy next to Aerith. "A Human!"
"He stepped out of thin air," Aerith said, pointing at the trampled lily patch. "Right there."
Ifalna hurried to her side, her steps quick, but precise—careful to avoid stepping on any of the flowers covering the ground. "How did you make it through the Barrier, boy?" she demanded, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from Aerith so that she was positioned between the two of them. "You hurt my daughter." The tone in her mother's voice made it clear that it wasn't a question.
"What? No! It's not my fault she doesn't know how to run!"
One of Ifalna's eyes arched in a way Aerith recognized as a precursor to a good scolding, and as enjoyable as it would likely be, the boy was telling the truth. "He's right, Mom. I fell on my own when I tried to get away."
Her mother cast a cool gaze over her, taking in Aerith's twisted ankle, her lips firming into a line. "I see. Well, I suppose that makes things a bit less of a disaster at the very least. I'm proud of you for telling the truth, dear."
Aerith beamed up at her mom.
Carefully, Ifalna bent down and placed her hand on Aerith's injury. A moment later, she felt the familiar comfort of a healing spell wash through her, immediately soothing the sharp pain. It only took a few seconds for her ankle to fully heal, the green glow around her mother's hands fading away as the spell ended. The boy's eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open, and she realized this had to have been the first time he'd ever seen someone use magic.
Turning to look back at him, Ifalna gestured with her head to indicate that he should follow them as she took Aerith's hand in her own. "Come along now, we have to figure out what in Gaia's name we're going to do with you. If you wander off and get lost, don't expect anyone to come find you."
Aerith didn't think her mom would actually abandon him, but based on his expression and how pale he went, it seemed like she'd been convincing enough. He followed behind them quietly, although every time Aerith heard his foot stomp down she winced in pain—it was going to take a lot of work to repair all the unintentional damage he was causing.
"They're so tall," the boy murmured a short while later.
Glancing around her mother, she found him staring upward as they walked, a look of awe on his face. It was almost as if he'd never even seen a tree before, but that was clearly impossible. Maybe they were just smaller in the Human realm.
"These trees are still young," Ifalna said, a small smile on her lips. "There are ones deep in the ancient forests that make these look like tiny, little saplings."
Somehow, the boy's eyes managed to grow even wider at her mother's words and Aerith couldn't help but grin as well—at least until she realized what she was doing and quickly replaced it with a firm scowl. She didn't know how it was possible for him to have made it through the ancient Barrier, or what this might mean for the future. As far as she knew, nothing like this had ever happened before in her life.
It wasn't long before the outskirts of Farstar came into view, the houses built naturally into the forest to be as unobtrusive as possible. The village was apparently small by Cetran standards—although Aerith had never seen another to compare it with—but it was home and she loved it dearly. For the most part.
Ifalna took them around the outskirts instead of passing directly through the village, presumably in order to not alarm anyone with the presence of an unexpected Human. Of course, because of her father, the villagers weren't complete strangers to Humans, but even though they were more accepting than visitors from the capital, there was still a lot of prejudice against him—despite how long he'd lived there.
The trip took them slightly longer thanks to the circular route, but before too long they made it back home—a cheery, two-floor house, nestled in amongst a large grove of pine trees. It was the largest house in the village, thanks to her mother's status as the Elder, which should have been a nice thing except for the amount of unwanted attention it drew to Aerith. She would have much rather preferred to live in a small house on the outskirts, alone and free, but that was obviously something completely out of her control—as her mother had reminded her several times.
"Gast, dear, we have a rather interesting guest!" Ifalna called out as they stepped through the doorway, the door swingingly quietly shut behind them. Moving into the dining room, she pulled a seat out from the table and gestured for the boy to sit. "Come, sit down, you look deathly ill. Would you like some food? Water?"
He looked around the room for a moment before slowly moving to take the offered seat. It seemed like he was still in a daze, causing Aerith to wonder how different all of this was from what he was used to. She didn't know anything about what life was like on the other side of the Barrier, but without magic to aid them, she could only imagine that things would have to be quite a bit different.
Clearing his throat, the boy coughed dryly a few times before responding. "Water sounds nice if it's not too much of a problem. You're . . . Ancients, aren't you?"
"Well now, this certainly is quite the surprise!" her father exclaimed, bustling into the room and immediately moving to drop to one knee to examine the Human more closely. "I'd be careful using that word on this side of the Barrier though, my boy, it's not looked upon by the Cetra with any fondness, trust me."
"Yes, and it still took you how long to stop using it?" Ifalna teased, looking at Gast in a way Aerith hoped someone would one day direct at her.
As her mother vanished into the kitchen, Aerith slipped into the seat across the table from the boy. She wondered what he'd meant by "if it's not too much of a problem." It was just a simple glass of water, wasn't it?
"So, how did you wind up on this side of the Barrier?" her father asked, his tone shifting to be more serious.
"I . . . I don't know. I saw her"—he pointed to Aerith—"outside the city gates and thought she was in trouble. I went to help, but when I stepped outside . . . the desert vanished and I was here instead."
"Desert?" Gast cocked his head, confusion plain on his face. "Granted, it's been many years since I left, but while the area around Midgar wasn't nearly as fertile as it is here, it certainly wasn't a desert either."
The boy shrugged. "It's been this way for as long as I can remember."
"That's . . . alarming. Even assuming it began twenty years ago, rapid desertification like that simply shouldn't be possible within such a condensed time span. Magic could possibly explain the amplified speed, but that's obviously out of the question. Fascinating. I wonder—"
"Don't mind him," her mother said with a chuckle as she returned to the room and set a glass of water down in front of the boy—Gast continuing to murmur to himself as he stood up and began pacing around the room. "He's always been obsessed with ecological science."
"Why were you worried about me?" Aerith asked as the boy first took a small sip before proceeding to then gulp down the rest of the water.
"You were alone, outside the city gates," he said after he'd set the glass back down as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Ifalna waved her hand, filling the boy's glass back up with more water to his obvious surprise. "Thank you for worrying about my daughter, even if it was misplaced."
Aerith felt a tiny surge of jealousy as she watched the casual use of magic, although it was quickly replaced by embarrassment—she had no right to feel that way, especially with her mother of all people.
"How did you . . . it's so cold." Despite the temperature, he still drank half of it down almost instantly.
"A clever modification of the Blizzard spell, only recently conceived," her mother said, even though Aerith was positive he didn't understand a word of what had been explained. "Dear," she continued, walking over to place a hand on Gast's arm. "A moment, please? We need to discuss what we're going to do about all of this."
"Hmm, what? Oh, yes, yes of course."
Together, they moved over to the entrance of the kitchen talking in hushed voices that happened to be just loud enough for Aerith to faintly be able to still make out. She did her best to keep her attention on the Human so it wouldn't seem too obvious that she was eavesdropping.
"I knew the Barrier was weakening, but I thought we still had years left," her dad whispered.
"It's certainly concerning. I'll need to send notice to the Council, they'll want to hear of this—the Archmage in particular."
Aerith perked up at the title. She'd never gotten a chance to meet the Archmage, but her mother had told her many stories of the woman and how she was responsible for much of the advancement of magical theory over the last half-century.
"Why don't the two of you go out and play while we talk?" her mother said more loudly, turning back toward the table. "Just make sure not to wander too far off, alright?"
Alone? With a Human? Aerith wasn't terribly enthused by the idea, but she also understood they couldn't exactly allow him to wander around on his own. Reluctantly, she got to her feet, the boy hesitantly following after her.
"So, what's your name?" she asked as they left the house and began walking down the path that led to it. "I'm Aerith."
"Cloud."
She expected him to talk more, but after a few moments of silence it seemed like that was all he was going to say. "Oh, that's nice, like the ones up in the sky."
He groaned, loudly. "Please, no cloud jokes. I've heard them all a hundred times already."
"Fair enough," Aerith said, giggling. "I can understand how—"
"Well, well, look who it is, everyone! It's the Half!"
The jeer came from their right, immediately halting Aerith in her tracks—her heart suddenly racing. She hadn't been thinking as they left, too focused on Cloud to realize she'd unintentionally led them toward the center of the village. Trembling in place, she struggled to come up with a way to get them out of this suddenly disastrous situation.
"Who's your new friend, Half? A visitor?" Seoda asked, walking closer—her group of followers close on her heels. She glanced around, her shoulder-length, raven-black hair swaying as she scanned the empty square. "I'm surprised, to be honest. Doesn't he know what you are?"
Even though the other girl was a year younger than Aerith, it had never caused her to show any respect. On the contrary, she took every opportunity she could to never let Aerith forget what she was—always bringing her crashing back down to earth. It was the main reason why Aerith spent as little time in the village as she possibly could.
Seoda jerked to a halt, her amber eyes widening. "Wait . . . I didn't immediately notice, but he's a Human? I can't believe it, you're just like your mother! Where in Gaia's name did you find a Human pet of your own?"
The words sparked a fire inside Aerith, not at the insults directed at her, but because Cloud and her parents were being attacked now. "He's not a pet," she said, although it was so soft she knew no one else would be able to hear her.
"What was that, Half? Don't you know to speak up when talking to your betters?"
"Hey! Leave her alone, she hasn't done anything to you!"
Aerith closed her eyes, her jaw clenching. She knew Cloud was only trying to help, but it was the worst possible thing he could have done.
"Hiding behind a Human," Seoda mocked. "Each time I think there's no way you could fall any lower you manage to somehow prove me wrong. Pathetic, but fitting. After all, we all know exactly what you are, don't we guys?"
Knowing what was coming next didn't make it any easier, didn't stop the tears from welling up in the corners of her eyes. Aerith wasn't ashamed of who she was and no amount of bullying would ever be able to change that, but even so, it didn't prevent their scorn from hurting.
"Half! Half! Half!" Seoda began chanting, the group of children behind her joining in.
Aerith couldn't stay here, couldn't let everyone see her break down. So she did the only thing she could—she ran, down the dirt path leading away from the village center and out to the comforting safety of the surrounding woods. It wasn't until she broke through the tree line that Aerith realized she'd abandoned Cloud, causing her to come to an abrupt stop. Something immediately slammed into her from behind, sending her crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
By the time her vision cleared, Aerith found herself lying on her back, staring up through the tree branches at the clear, blue sky overhead. A low moan nearby allowed her to identify who had run into her without needing to look.
"Why'd you stop so suddenly?" Cloud asked from beside her.
"I thought I'd left you behind. Guess I didn't need to worry, huh?" She slowly got back to her feet, Cloud doing the same. Thankfully, Seoda and her group weren't in sight anymore—Aerith hoped none of them had been able to see the unfortunate collision.
"So who were those jerks? A rival gang or something?"
Aerith blinked in surprise at the question, not understanding what he was talking about. "Gang? What do you mean?"
"You know, the group you hang out with."
"Oh." She didn't really spend time with anyone—no one else ever wanted to—but that was too embarrassing to admit to him. "Nope, I prefer to be by myself most of the time." She'd given up on having friends long ago.
"That's cool too, but it must make it a lot harder to train your fighting skills."
"Train my . . . Why in the Planet's name would I need to do that?"
"So that you're ready to fight against the Anc—"
Cloud's mouth snapped shut, but not before she realized what he'd been about to say. The Ancients, the Human word for Cetra. He was training to fight her people. It was a stark reminder of the gulf between them and of the brutal reality that no matter how innocent he might seem, they would always be on opposite sides of an age-old conflict.
"Sorry, I didn't—"
"No, it's fine," Aerith said, interrupting him and forcing a smile. "I get it." Even though she didn't.
The sound of the birds singing filled the silence between them as she debated what to do next. Her mother hadn't said how long they should be gone for, but Aerith imagined her parents would need a few hours to figure everything out. Going back into the village clearly wasn't an option—not with Seoda likely on the prowl—and her mother had said they shouldn't stray too far, presumably just in case this was some kind of Human trap after all.
Turning her attention back to Cloud, she took the chance to examine him more closely now that he seemed distracted by the birds. It seemed highly unlikely he was part of some elaborate scheme. All of his reactions were too genuine—despite the fact she still didn't fully understand them. Besides, even though he was surprisingly well-muscled, he was shockingly scrawny at the same time. If it somehow came down to it, she felt like she'd be able to put up a decent fight against him.
"The word they were calling you, what does it mean?"
Aerith winced, the question opening fresh wounds, but she was thankful he at least hadn't said it. Half. Such a simple word, and yet it carried a mountain of pain on its back. "It's a slur, because of who—what, I am. Since my mother is a Cetra and my father a Human, I'm only half-Cetran. Not a terribly original insult, huh?" she said, laughing bitterly.
Part of her was surprised she was even bothering to explain, but at the same time, she couldn't forget what had happened earlier. "Hey! Leave her alone, she hasn't done anything to you!" It was the first time anyone had ever stood up for her.
Cloud was watching her intently, his shockingly blue eyes piercing through her. "I don't see how they can hold that against you, it's not like you had any say in the matter. We're all still people, who cares about blood?"
While she certainly appreciated the sentiment, Aerith couldn't bring herself to explain why it did matter, beyond the bullying. It was too close, too personal, and he wouldn't be able to understand anyway. After all, humans couldn't use magic in the first place.
Pushing that thought back into the depths of her mind, she gave him a quick smile. "Thanks. I'm sure my parents are still talking, and going back to the village wouldn't be enjoyable for either of us, so what do you think about doing some gardening while we wait?"
"Gardening?"
She supposed that given all of Cloud's reactions to plants since arriving, this response shouldn't have come as much of a surprise. "Yeah, it's like . . . talking to the plants and taking care of them."
"Huh. Do they talk back to you?"
"Not . . . really. Not like you and I do, at least. They have their own ways of communicating. Like if they need more water, or their leaves need trimming, those kinds of things."
To her surprise, Cloud dropped down next to a large fern, a serious look on his face. "Do you need some water?"
Aerith couldn't help it—she laughed, bright and cheerfully. "Not like that, silly. Here, let me show you."
Moving to join him, she reached out and felt the dirt at the base of the fern. "You can tell from how moist the soil is here at the roots that it's doing fine, not too surprising since it rained just last night."
Cloud mirrored her, his fingers brushing against hers for a fraction of a moment before he quickly shifted them away.
"Since we won't have to worry about watering anything, let's go over something else." Aerith glanced around for something that would be easy for him to do, her eye catching on a particular spot in the clearing. "Here, come take a look at this."
She walked over to the cluster of bluebells that had drawn her attention, gesturing for Cloud to join her. "These flowers are called bluebells, but see here"—Aerith pushed one of the plant's leaves out of the way to reveal a separate, smaller plant—"this is a weed. It's hogging the nutrients the bluebell needs to grow so it needs to go." Grabbing it by its base, she twisted and pulled, uprooting the weed in one smooth motion.
Cloud's eyes were wide as he looked between the flower and the weed in her hands. "Um. That seems easy enough, except how am I supposed to tell what's a weed and what isn't?"
"Here." She offered him the weed. "Take a close look and use it as an example, if you have any questions you can always ask."
"Right . . ."
Despite his obvious uncertainty, Cloud took the weed from her and began sifting through the plants, holding it up to compare against them. After watching him successfully identify and remove another weed, Aerith moved off to a different section of the clearing to start pruning. She imagined this likely wasn't what her mother had had in mind when she'd said they should go play, but Cloud's idea of fun seemed to be fighting, while gardening was usually how she spent her free time anyway.
"The houses, back in the village, was that more magic?" Cloud asked as he continued to search through the plants. "They seemed like they were grown, not built."
Clipping off a dead branch from the bush she was working on, Aerith considered his question. It seemed innocent enough, and she couldn't think of a way he'd be able to use it against them, so answering seemed safe. "Yes and no. We can't grow entire houses out of living trees, or at least, no one has figured out how to yet. Instead, we find a large enough clearing that won't impact the forest and build there. Magic is involved, but then again, magic is involved in pretty much every aspect of our lives." Except for hers. "What is it?" she asked in response to the noise of surprise he made.
"Oh, I just assumed you wouldn't cut down trees to make houses. They seem . . . special."
"Ah. You're not entirely wrong. Generally, trees are grown specifically to be used for construction, otherwise, we only cut them down in extremely rare cases when it's better for the forest that way."
Cloud returned to hunting down weeds and Aerith found herself continuing to watch him instead of working on the plants. He wasn't at all what she'd expected. Not that her parents had told her scary stories about Humans like some of the other kids had mentioned, but she still knew the history of the war from hundreds of years ago, and what the Humans had done. Cloud seemed . . . normal, certainly kinder than than anyone else around her age—assuming it wasn't all just an act.
"Can I ask why you're training to fight us? What have we done to you?"
He looked back up, his eyes meeting hers. "The President says you're responsible for our suffering. That you've taken everything good and left us with nothing."
Aerith shook her head. "How? Just like Humans normally can't pass the Barrier, we can't either. That's the entire point of it. Even if we wanted to, there's no way for us to interact with your world."
Cloud looked thoughtful for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the clearing. "Not to mention that with everything you already have, there's no reason for you to take the little we do."
"Is it . . . really that bad on the other side?" she asked, curious but also not wanting to upset him.
His face sank a little, a sad look entering his eyes. "Yes."
He didn't offer anything else, and Aerith couldn't bring herself to push any harder. Instead, she returned her focus to the plants, Cloud joining her as they worked on in silence.
It wasn't until the sunlight filtering through the tree branches overhead began to dim that Aerith realized with a start how much time had passed. Standing up, she stretched her legs before glancing over to where Cloud had fallen asleep with his back to a tree. She was proud of him—he'd only ripped out one lily and two daffodils, not bad for a complete beginner.
Walking over to him, she leaned forward and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "C'mon sleepyhead, time to wake up."
Cloud jerked awake, looking up at her in confusion before clarity slowly filled his eyes. "It wasn't all a dream then."
"Nope, I'm afraid I'm very real," she said with a smile.
"What time is it?" He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, slowly staggering to his feet.
"Late. It's my fault for losing track. We should get back, hopefully, my parents aren't too worried."
While it wasn't uncommon for her to get back this late, she'd obviously never done so with a Human boy before. Taking the lead, Aerith made sure Cloud was close behind her as she hurried home. They hadn't gone very far so it was only a few minutes before her house came into view—the lights in the windows bright and welcoming.
As they approached the front steps she could hear her parents talking inside, although she couldn't make out the words. "Hey, we're back, sorry it's so late!" Aerith called out as she pushed open the door.
Her mother immediately emerged from the kitchen, looking slightly frazzled. "You see, dear, I told you there was no reason to worry. They're fine."
Gast appeared behind her, his arms wrapping around her in a hug with an amused look on his face. "Yes, yes, quite right indeed."
"Dinner's almost ready, you two can take a seat at the table and we'll be right out with the stew."
"What's stew?" Cloud whispered as she led the way into the dining room.
"It's meat and potatoes and vegetables all mixed together with spices, you'll love it."
He looked more confused by this than she expected, but before she could give a more detailed description, her parents bustled into the room, her mom carrying the stew and her dad a basket full of freshly baked bread. Cloud's eyes widened dramatically as the food was set down on the table, his throat visibly moving as he swallowed.
"That smells amazing. Better than anything I've ever smelled before."
"You're too kind," her mother replied, smiling warmly and serving him a large helping. "Dig in, it tastes even better."
Aerith watched as Cloud took a bite . . . and dropped his spoon, making a small plopping noise as it landed back in his bowl—small droplets of stew splattering across the tablecloth.
"Is something wrong with the food?" Ifalna asked, her voice full of concern as tears began pouring down Cloud's face.
He shook his head, before retrieving his fallen spoon and taking another bite of the stew. "Why . . . why does it have to be this way?" he asked after swallowing, his eyes brimming with tears. "Why do you get to have so much when we have nothing?"
"I don't know, Cloud," Aerith admitted. As surprising as it was to see him break down over a bowl of stew, it made sense after hearing him mention how bad things were on the other side of the Barrier. Unsure of what to do next, she looked to her parents, mirrored expressions of worry on their faces. "Maybe—"
"No, sorry. I'm alright. I don't want to ruin your amazing dinner, let's just eat."
Aerith bit her lip, wanting to make him feel better, but unsure what to say. She continued to watch him from the corner of her eye as she ate, savoring the delicious taste of the meat, veggies, and herbs blending together. Cloud did at least seem to be doing better as he wolfed down his stew, gratefully accepting a second helping from her mother when he finished his first bowl. There was only one other oddity as they ate: he grabbed his water before reaching for the bread—pausing as he picked it up and squeezed it several times between his fingers, his eyes widening in surprise. The rest of the meal passed in silence, only the sounds of eating and spoons clinking against bowls filling the air.
"Well, we should talk about options for what the next steps could be," her mother said once they'd all finished. She shifted in her chair, turning to face Cloud. "I assume you don't want to stay here and would like to cross back over to the other side of the Barrier?"
He nodded immediately. "My mom must be worried sick, I need to let her know I'm okay."
"Of course, dear. I'm . . . afraid that we unfortunately can't promise anything, but we'll do everything in our power to get you back home."
A flicker of fear flashed across Cloud's face. "What do you mean? I can't just go back?"
"The Barrier is ancient magic," her father explained. "No one really understands how it works anymore, why it allows people like you and me to cross, or what the conditions for that crossing are."
"You've never gone back?"
Gast shook his head slowly. "It was a hard decision, but I wasn't leaving much of anything behind and I found something I didn't want to lose here." He shared a soft look with her mom. "I can't risk not being able to return so I've never tried to leave."
"Worrying isn't going to help anything," her mother said, getting to her feet. "It's late, you should get some sleep and we'll see what we can do in the morning. Can you show him to the guest room?" she asked, turning to Aerith.
Bouncing to her feet, Aerith nodded. "Yup!"
"Honey, where's the Healing Materia?" she heard her dad ask as she led Cloud out of the room.
"It should be in your study if it's not up in the bedroom. What's wrong, do you need me to take a look?"
"No, no, it's just my back acting up again. I don't want to trouble you, that's why you made it in the first place."
The rest of the conversation faded out as she and Cloud reached the second floor of the house where the bedrooms were located. "My parents' room is at the end of the hall to the left," she explained, gesturing in the direction. "This is my room," she said, placing her hand against the first door along the right side. Continuing down the hallway, she stopped in front of the next door. "This is my bathroom, but since your room doesn't have one of its own you can use it. Just make sure to knock on the door first if you do, okay?"
Cloud's face was tinged red as he nodded vigorously. "Right, yeah, understood."
"Good." The next and final door was only a bit farther down the hall, at the end. Pushing it open, Aerith stepped inside, Cloud close behind her. "And this is your room," she said, placing her palm over the modified Lightning Materia embedded in the wall to turn on the lights.
The bedroom was simple, but cozy—dominated by a large bed flanked on either side by a bedside table with a Materia lamp. Two windows looked out over the forest outside with a walk-in closet on the opposite, interior wall.
"Thanks, it's really nice." He glanced around, frowning at the Materia in the wall. "What's that? Some kind of fancy light switch?"
"It's magic," she said, giggling as his eyes lit up. "A kind that anyone can use, even you." Even me. "Really powerful mages can create Materia—a condensed spell that lets other people use it."
"Can I try?" The excitement in his voice was infectious, pulling Aerith's lips up into a tiny smile.
"Of course, it'd be pretty hard to sleep with the lights still on, silly."
Cloud reached out, hesitating for a moment before firmly pressing his hand to the Materia. The lights winked out a second later. "Oh! It feels fizzy."
"I think that's because it's based on lightning magic. Each type of Materia feels a little bit different, pretty cool, huh?" Aerith wondered if she should be telling him about Materia at all, but . . . she'd come to like him after spending the day together and she wanted to be able to trust him. "Anyways, I'll let you get ready for bed. Sleep well, Cloud."
"Thanks, you too, Aerith."
She closed his door behind her and made a quick stop in the bathroom to brush her teeth before heading to her room. It wasn't much different from Cloud's, other than the wide array of stuffed animals scattered all over and some fresh flowers in a vase under her window. Changing into her pajamas, Aerith flicked the lights off and slipped under the sheets, thinking back on what a remarkable day it had been.
A moment later, there was a gentle knock on her door—interrupting her thoughts—before it cracked open. Aerith sat up slightly, smiling as she recognized the silhouette of her mother.
"Sorry if I woke you, I just wanted to see how you were doing."
Aerith shook her head. "Mnm, hadn't fallen asleep yet." She patted the bed beside her, snuggling against her mother as she settled in next to her—a trickle of light from the ajar door faintly illuminating them.
"You certainly seem to have changed your tune since this morning," her mom said with a hint of teasing, running her hand gently through Aerith's hair.
"He appeared out of thin air, it was scary!"
"And what do you think of him now?"
Aerith hesitated for a moment, not entirely sure she had an answer to that question. "Cloud's . . . nice. He's surprisingly kind and polite, although some of the things he says can be really confusing."
"Just . . . be careful not to grow too attached to him, okay? We don't—"
Aerith could feel her cheeks heating. "Mom, it's not like that! He's just not what I expected."
Her mother made a soft humming noise. "Alright, alright. What did the two of you do this afternoon? Did you give him a tour of the village?"
The question was innocent enough but only served to remind Aerith of her encounter with Seoda and before she realized it, her eyes were filling with tears. Making her mother worry was the last thing she wanted to do, but no matter how hard she tried, Aerith couldn't prevent a soft sob from escaping.
Ifalna's arm immediately tightened around her, her body going tense. "Wait, Aerith, what? What happened dear? Did he do something to you?"
Aerith firmly shook her head, sniffling loudly before taking a deep breath to help herself calm down. Her mother didn't know about the bullying—Seoda would never risk doing it in the presence of the village Elder and Aerith had never said a word about it. She knew that if her mother learned of it, the bullying would stop immediately, but it was something Aerith wanted to deal with on her own. Even if she still had no clue how to.
"No, no, it's nothing to do with Cloud." She scrambled to come up with an explanation, anything she could say other than the truth but continued to come up with nothing. "Why do I have to be so different from everyone else? Why am I such a . . . a freak?!" Her tears were flowing again as she finally voiced the root of the issue.
Her mother let out a sad sigh before pressing a kiss to Aerith's temple. "Oh, my little flower, is that what you've been thinking? You're not a freak at all, and anyone who says otherwise is both blind and foolish." She ruffled Aerith's hair. "Yes, you are different, but that's not a bad thing. I know that you're going to grow up and accomplish things that no one else can do."
"But I can't use magic." It hurt to say it out loud—like a hand clenching tight around her heart.
"No, you can't," her mom whispered, sounding more distraught than Aerith had ever heard her before. "But you can't let that stop you. Many Cetra can barely light a candle or heal an injury, meaning you're not so different from them, in the end."
It wasn't the same, not at all, but she knew someone as gifted as her mother wouldn't be able to understand. The first time she'd used a Materia should have been one of Aerith's best memories, but, instead, it was her worst—the taste of the magic flowing through her had been as sweet as a freshly picked fruit before turning to ash in her mouth when she realized she could never touch the Lifestream on her own.
"Yeah, thanks, Mom," she said, not wanting her to continue worrying. Silence filled the room as she wiped the last traces of tears from her eyes, a wave of exhaustion following close behind and pulling a yawn from her.
"I love you very much, you know?"
"I do. Me too."
Her mom kissed the top of her head before shifting off the bed and standing up. "I'll let you get to sleep. Just know that I'll always be here for you."
Aerith nodded sleepily, sliding back down under the sheets. "Night, Mom."
"Goodnight dear," Ifalna said before softly closing the door behind her.
Closing her eyes, Aerith's last thought before sleep engulfed her was of how desperately she wanted to be a powerful mage like her mother.
A bit longer of a chapter this time, thanks to the beginning of the dive deep into the world-building for the Cetra—and we're only even scratching the surface here, haha. I want to go into my thoughts around the Cetra, since there's not really a whole lot to work off of here and they're obviously a major part of this story. I've completely tossed out the idea of them being nomadic—whether that means planet-hopping or just not settling in cities—because that's already a shaky translation as I understand it and it also doesn't fit the story I'm going for at all. Instead, they do build cities, although very much in a nature-centric way and generally on a much smaller scale than humans do. I've also embraced the idea that they can use magic without Materia, although Materia is still very much a thing. Aerith is, of course, half-Cetra, although in this universe that comes with a lot of complications, as we've already seen. A large part of her story arc is going to be her overcoming these obstacles, with some fun surprises tossed into the mix as well.
Now that the two main points of view have been established and have met each other, I hope everyone is excited to see what awaits them!
Next Chapter: Return