Chapter 15
"The way that you were back then." — Part 2
Aerith tried hard to not panic. Every agonizing second she spent traversing the catacombs underneath the Guard Academy, Squall was on the receiving end of terrible pain and torment at the hand of his captors. She could almost feel the ghosting of the knife against her own chest as she pictured the last video feed she saw of him chained to the dungeon wall. But reflecting on that wouldn't help her find him any faster. Knowing that she was his only hope, it was hard to stop worrying about him—to stop worrying about what it would mean if she failed to find him fast enough.
Usually, prayer would help her clear her mind and focus her thoughts on tranquility and hope, but it was almost impossible to do that while clanking around in that heavy armor that grew hotter as she ventured deeper into the underground. She wondered if the ether bottles strapped to her utility belt could withstand such harsh temperatures, or would the tincture lose potency as it boiled in the heat? Would she have enough power to heal all of Squall's wounds? The worries went round and round her head, rekindling Aerith's long-buried nausea. She needed to stop the racing thoughts before they paralyzed her. With a great deal of struggling, she tried focusing on the future—what happiness would await them both once he was safely back in her arms.
After wandering around the cavern for ages without seeing any trace of human life, Aerith finally stumbled across a sentry patrol. They were a welcome distraction, even if the thought of getting caught now was anxiety-inducing. She slowed her pace a little, trying hard to look like a marching guard by emulating the loud stomps and long stride of the people heading straight for her. But physical coordination wearing such heavy armor proved more difficult than she had anticipated and her march appeared embarrassingly lopsided. Though she garnered attention, the guards' reactions surprised her.
"Oi, get a load of the Ministry of Silly Walks over here!" chortled the lead sentry as his group passed by.
"This is why I'm not looking forward to the uniform upgrades," griped one of the others with a puckered wince.
"Ugh, I so don't wanna be a walking tin can like that," groused another with a dramatic roll of her eyes.
As the judgy and slightly apprehensive guards passed Aerith, she felt a wave of relief and relaxed back to focusing on navigation. Somewhere close by was the turn she needed to take. Just as she approached a confusing crossroad, she heard a familiar voice echoing down one of the paths.
"Let me out of here right now before I get really mad!" shouted Tifa, accompanied by a chorus of clinking chains as she presumably struggled to free herself.
Following the sound of her best friend, Aerith raced to the rescue. She came to a wooden door with a small opening obscured by metal bars. Peering inside, she could see a single guard taunting Tifa, who was chained to the wall with dozens of shackles all around her neck, torso, and limbs. It looked like they weren't taking anymore chances on the brawler.
"Blah, blah, blah," taunted the guard, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him as he leaned back in his chair with a yawn. "Wake me up when you're ready to cough up some actual intel—like who was the one helping you and that traitorous cur Leonhart."
"My fist was. If you come closer, I'll demonstrate."
"Ha, you don't scare me."
"Unlock some of these chains and then we'll see."
Just before the guard could chortle what he assumed would be a witty response, a sudden rap sounded on the door. "Yo, did you bring the grub already?" he called, getting up from his seat to strut over to the door. "That's a new record. Guess you weren't kidding when you said you were cuckoo for chocobo wings!" The guard opened the door with a hungry smile that immediately unhinged when Aerith knocked him back with a powerful gust. He smashed into the back wall and fell unconscious.
"A Mage General, huh?" Tifa said, trying to conceal her burgeoning fear, knowing that she was a sitting duck. "I didn't realize I was so popular. Don't you guys only show up to fight the biggest baddies? I feel flattered."
In any other situation without grappling against a time sensitive mission, Aerith would have teased her friend a little by hamming up her soldier disguise. But with Squall in danger, she cut right to the chase. "Tifa, it's me," she said, flipping up her visor.
"Aerith?" Tifa exclaimed, more shocked than relieved. "How—what are you doing here?"
"Saving the day," Aerith replied matter-of-factly. Whisking her hand, she summoned a controlled ice mist targeting the chains and freezing them. With a snap of her fingers, the brittle chains smashed into dust and freed the brawler.
"Wow, you've been practicing!"
"Intensely. Now hurry! We have to go find Squall."
Tifa stopped midway as she readjusted her gloves. "Wait, Squall? They caught him?"
Already halfway back out the door, Aerith just shouted a quick "yeah" over her shoulder, forcing her best friend to jog after her.
"What's the hurry? Do you even know where we're going?"
"They're hurting him," Aerith replied, worry weighing down her every word.
Tifa cringed. She could feel her best friend's pain. "I am so sorry, Aerith. I wish I could've helped more sooner."
"What are you even doing here? Did they catch you sneaking around?"
Tifa almost stopped dead in her tracks from the shock, but just stuttered a bit as she pressed on. "You know about that…?"
"Sort of. Johnny saw you go into a restricted area."
"Oh." The brawler quieted for a moment, readjusting her gloves. "I…found Cloud."
"You did?" Aerith gasped. Her vigorous pace slowed a little as her focus fractured. "Where is he? Is he okay?"
Tifa shook her head. "I was bringing him back home when the Guard ambushed us. I don't know where they took him, but I think he's still here somewhere. I heard them say that they would put him on the next morning's castle transport."
"So we have some time, then. Let's keep our eyes out, but Squall is my priority right now."
"I…yeah, okay."
The two friends rushed through the catacombs until they reached the crossroad. Aerith paused for a moment, trying to remember her uncle's map while she reoriented herself. "I think I came from this way," she said, eying the remaining two paths, "so one of these must lead to where they're keeping Squall."
"Maybe we should split up?" Tifa suggested, but then backtracked. "No, actually, it would be safer for us to stick together."
"Safer for whom?" Aerith snapped, catching her friend off-guard.
In the torchlit glow, Tifa could see Aerith glaring at her. The humble, genteel flower girl never so much as frowned, never mind raised her voice in such an irritated manner. It worried her. "I just meant…what if you go somewhere and there's a room full of geared-up guards like the ones that tied me up?"
"Then I'll strike them down," Aerith replied, holding up a hand that crackled with lightning. Before Tifa could reply, she barked out some orders. "You go this way, I'll go that way and we'll meet up back here."
"Aerith…" Tifa let out a shaky exhale as selfish thoughts clouded her mind. "Okay," she replied with a nod. "I'll try to be quick. If you run into a lot of trouble, there's no shame in getting out of there to come find me."
"Same goes to you," Aerith said before once again bounding down a path all alone and leaving her best friend speechless.
Down the twisting path, Aerith followed the rocky walls as they spiraled down further into the earth. The temperature continued climbing the further she descended, and the metal armor trapped all of that heat. It sizzled on the outside while boiling her on the inside. Sweat dripped from all across her face, sometimes splashing into her eyes. Under the helmet, her braided and tucked hair insulated most of the heat and grew itchy, matted, and constricting. Aerith contemplated using an ice spell to cool herself down, but opted to just push through it in favor of reserving her magic for when she needed it most.
Throughout all of the scorching pain, worrying thoughts continued to nip at Aerith's resolve. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she worried about leaving everyone behind. What if Tifa was right about an overwhelming guard force? Or what if the brawler reached Squall first and, without curative powers, couldn't help him? What if he couldn't hold out long enough for healing? Aerith chose not to dwell on those fears, instead drowning them out with her determination to rescue the man she loved.
"Everything's going to be okay," she repeated to herself again and again, willing it to be true. She hastened her step, more out of panic than discomfort. If it meant reaching Squall faster, Aerith would have endured far worse conditions.
At the end of the tunnel was another door—one far larger than the others. It reminded her of something from her father's laboratory. It lacked a traditional doorknob, but she recalled that it would open from the press of a button somewhere in the center. As she felt around for it, a computerized voice suddenly spoke.
"Please enter verification code," it said in tandem with a flashing light illuminating an inset display panel.
"Code?" Aerith fretted. "I don't know any codes!" It wanted four digits and she thought about trying a random string of numbers until it let her in. But that could take too long. It was sweltering and the urge to toss off all her clothes never felt so powerful, never mind the fact that Squall desperately needed her. No, she had a better idea than wasting time playing with a bunch of silly numbers. Holding her hand to the door again, lightning crackled between her fingers and jolted its internal circuits.
"Access granted," said the computer in a fuzzy, static-filled voice as it continued to crackle from the sudden burst of electricity. The door's lights flashed and spasmed as it pulled open with a stutter.
Without pausing to even gauge her surroundings, Aerith hurried down the corridor. Unlike the torch-lit, rocky passages from the rest of the cavern, this one had metal plating, overhead lighting, and most importantly of all—air conditioning. Aerith flipped open her visor and breathed in deep lungfuls of the chilled air. Splotches of sweat splattered to the polished floor as it dripped down her exposed face. All of it itched like crazy, but she didn't care enough to stop, even to wipe it with something like her sleeve or blow it dry with a burst of wind. Squall's suffering was far worse. She could handle a little discomfort.
Picking up the pace, Aerith rushed down the hall. Eager anticipation started building in her gut. Squall had to be close—most likely at the end. She was prepared to take on all the guards and ran through spells in her head. Ice was probably the safest. They would never see it coming and, as long as the room was also air conditioned, it would lock them in place long enough for her to save her beloved. A powerful lightning strike could also work if everyone was clumped together, or a gust of wind to knock them all back if they were too scattered. Just like Merlin had taught her, Aerith kept the ideas fluid and flowing. Her powers would adapt to any situation as long as she kept an open mind.
When she finally reached the end of the long passage, the door into the next room automatically opened for her. Instead of leading to the torture chamber, however, it brought her into a holding area lined with cells. Aerith didn't recall seeing them in her uncle's map. Did she take a wrong turn? She started panicking again, worried that this was going to cost her time that she didn't have.
"Everything's going to be okay," she told herself, trying to quell her racing heart. "Just stay calm. It's going to be okay. You're going to find him."
As Aerith made her way past the cells, she glanced inside to see that most of them held soiled straw, chains, some rats, and little else. Where were all the prisoners? Stalking down the eerie prison, it somehow grew darker the deeper she went. The end of the room was nowhere in sight, buried somewhere on the other side of a pitch black shadow that eclipsed the path forward. As she reached the edge of light and darkness, she could hear a muffled sniffling. It was coming from somewhere close by. She turned to scan the cells again when she noticed someone hunched over in the corner of one.
"Hello?" Aerith approached the bars, relieved that she wasn't alone after all.
The prisoner gasped with fright and jumped up with a yelp.
"Golly!" Mickey quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and spun around on heel to stare up at Aerith in a mixture of fright and awe. One look at that armor had him quaking in his big, yellow shoes. "Come to finish me off, huh?" But then he noticed Aerith's kind, concerned eyes and relaxed a little. "Wait, are ya really a guard?"
"No, I'm just dressed like one," she said with a shake of her head.
Mickey let out a huge sigh of relief. "For a second there, I thought you were that Mage General! She killed everyone else and was saving me for last. Said I was a 'real treat from out of this world to play with'."
"You mean all the other prisoners are…?"
"Gone! Turned to shadows, every last one of 'em! That's twice I've dodged a date with the Darkness myself… I really gotta stop ending up in these kinds of places, eh-heh."
"Then let's get you out of there." Not wasting time looking for a key, Aerith just melted the lock with some fire then swung the bars right open.
Mickey bounded out into freedom and grabbed Aerith's hand straightaway. "Golly, thanks, miss!" he exclaimed with joy, giving her hand a hearty shake.
"You're very welcome," she said with a kind smile. "And please, call me Aerith."
"Pleased to meetcha, Aerith! Name's Mickey!" He continued his peppy handshake until a thought suddenly dawned on him and he slowed down to a gradual pump. "That's some nice magic ya got there. Are ya sure you're not some kinda mage guard?"
"I only use my powers to help and heal."
With squinting, judgy eyes, Mickey gave her the once over then quickly grinned again. "Great!" he said, the vigor returning to his exuberant shake. "Now I don't suppose ya can help a fella out a little more?"
"I'd like to, but I'm in a bit of a rush," Aerith sadly declined, trying hard to free herself from Mickey's grip. But the little chap refused to let go.
"It'll only take a few seconds for someone with your powers!" Mickey insisted, still shaking her hand for dear life. "It's a pal of mine—Squall, his name is! He's in real trouble!"
"Squall?" Aerith did nothing to disguise her disbelief. "You know him?"
"Yup! He's one of my best buddies! He one of yours too?"
"Yes, I'm here to rescue him."
If it was even possible, Mickey shook Aerith's hand with even more vigor. "Well, golly! That's just swell! When they carted him off, I was worried I'd never see 'im again! The screams've been somethin' awful…" Mickey's shake suddenly slowed to a stop as his downcast eyes fell to the floor.
"Screams?" Aerith slipped her hand free. "Please, tell me everything you know!"
"They've been doin' some really nasty stuff next door." The little chap started sniffling again, trying hard to hold back his tears but they came pouring out. "He's only tryin' to protect me and the others from what happened at that fishy lab! It's all our fault, but Squall's too nice a guy to go and toss his friends under the bus!"
"Next door where? Can you take me there?"
Mickey hesitated for a moment, then pointed a shaking finger towards the darkness at the end of the room. "The door's on the other side. That giant shadow is what's left of the other folks that used to be down here. If we can get past that, we should find 'im—but that's a big if! There're gonna be Heartless in there and they're nasty pieces of work!"
"Heartless?"
"Terrible monsters without hearts. Squall and Tifa saved us from a bunch, but they're not here now…"
"But I am." Without another word, Aerith marched straight for the darkness.
Stunned, Mickey stared with his jaw agape before scrambling after her. "Wait for me!" He stood close behind her, peeking around her legs every so often while on the lookout for shadows.
The two made their way into the black abyss. With nothing to guide them, they took it slow and walked in a straight line. At some point, they even lost sight of each other and took to holding hands just to stay together. Unable to see anything, it was as if they had their eyes closed the entire way. Even the ground under their feet was cloaked in shadow.
"Tell me more about that lab," Aerith suddenly asked, both curious and eager for a distraction from a resurgent bout of panic that bubbled up through her chest.
"Gee, it was so awful I'd rather forget it!" Mickey exclaimed with a shiver. "Looked a lot like this place but with a bunch more frightening monsters!"
"You called them 'Heartless'. What are they exactly?"
"Golly, I'm not altogether sure to be honest. That sciencey fella had all the answers. I always thought it was just folks that'd given up their hearts to the Darkness, but from the gist of it, it sounds like someone's figured out how to make tons of 'em inside test tubes. They're just as hungry for hearts and they've got the claws for cutting 'em out, too! They really sliced up Squall somethin' bad!"
"So that's what he was up against…" Aerith muttered. It was hard to not think back to the horrible condition she found his body and all of the scars she couldn't properly heal. Those memories somehow made the air denser in that place. "Tell me about that 'sciencey fella'."
"An odd duck, but really smart! He knew all sorts'a things and helped us save that one spindly fella—Cloud—from turnin' into a Heartless!"
"He saved Cloud? What was his name?"
"Prof—" Mickey suddenly clapped his hands over his mouth. "Gosh, I really shouldn't say! They've been tryin' to find the poor fella this whole time. They know someone helped us, but they don't know who! So they've been tryin' to beat the name outta Squall!"
Aerith's heart skipped a beat. She felt like crying. Even if he didn't say the name, something told her that Mickey meant her father. All the pieces finally started to line up and make sense—the origin of Squall's mission, his secrecy, her father's probing interest in his line of work. They had to have been working together, and Squall was willing to die to protect him—for her. So many powerful emotions swept over her, making it difficult to keep walking. But she pushed through, needing to find and hold her dearest love more than ever. To hug him and never let him go again.
"What…exactly did you do to make the Guard so angry?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
"Well, uh, we kinda trashed their fancy place," Mickey said with a nervous laugh. "And I heard Squall did somethin' even worse by, um, eh-heh…blowing it up."
"To stop the Heartless?"
"That was the idea! …At least I hope."
"They accused him of treason for that?"
Mickey let out a mournful sigh. "Yup. Can ya believe that? He's stopped an invasion of supercharged, lab-grown monsters but they're calling him the bad guy!"
Aerith remained silent for a bit. Something didn't make sense. Everything Squall did sounded gallant, heroic, and just like him. So then why was he burdened by such torment and guilt? Why did he feel the need to try to distance himself from her? Her thoughts continued to spiral until Mickey suddenly interrupted them.
"Say, uh, not to be a worry wort or anything, but…can you tell where we're going? I don't know if we're almost there or just going in circles!"
"Me? I was following you! I thought you knew the way?"
"You're behind me? I thought you were up front!"
"Only until everything went black. I stepped back to let you go first. After all, you've seen the door and I haven't."
"Well shucks, you'd think we'd've run into it by now! It wasn't all that far. At least we don't have any Heartless around to rush us. We can take our time and feel the place out. Now let's see—what would Pluto do? He's always gettin' outta scrapes like this. Hmm…I know! Let's drop down onto all fours and sniff our way outta this one!"
Before Aerith could so much as wrap her head around that suggestion, never mind protest it, a sea of yellow eyes suddenly flashed opened and dotted the darkness. "What are those?" she uttered just above a whisper, inherently sensing their malevolence.
"Heartless!" Mickey exclaimed, whisking his hands around like crazy until he found Aerith's legs to cower behind. "Quick! Blast them with your magic!"
Aerith could feel the eyes probing her, trying to peer into her heart. It was unlike anything she had ever experience. Whatever those creatures were, their gaze alone made her feel violated—as if they could see her every emotion, thought, and memory. Reflexively, she brought her hands up to conjure a spell. But just as the flames sparked between her fingers, the shadows took form and pounced.
Overcoming his urge to ball himself into a frightened heap crouching behind the fake guard, Mickey remembered Squall's advice from the Caldera Facility and started kicking at the Heartless. "Hyaa~! Wa-haa~! Ki-ki-ki-haa~!" Surprisingly, the surface area from his giant shoes was enough to smack away the shadows. But there were too many, and they quickly overwhelmed him.
Aerith took some time to dispel her initial shock. If not for Mickey's timely intervention, the shadow attack would have overpowered her. The creepy-crawly creatures frightened her, and not just because of their erratic, undulating movements. While their surprise attack took her off guard, their corruption had frozen her in place. She could feel their insatiable hunger, their desire to feed on her, on Mickey, on everyone in town, on the whole world itself. To rip out their hearts, to subsist on every last morsel of light. And they had the power to do it, too. They would devour everything, leaving behind nothing but their darkened glut.
With Mickey getting tackled, Aerith sprang into action. She conjured a powerful flame that eradicated the shadows upon contact. "Come on!" she called to Mickey as the glow from her fire lit the path forward.
In the nearby distance, she could finally see the door. It was just within reach. They just needed to get past another line of Heartless to reach it. Mickey quickly bounded to his feet and raced after her. Together, they ran for the door. Just as Aerith reached out to grab the knob, it suddenly turned. The door flew open, and a powerful dark mist flew out, pushing both the escapees back into the clutches of the clawing shadows.
With a scream, Aerith tumbled over onto her back and a gang of Heartless piled on top of her. She tried to kick them off, but the armor was too heavy and she had trouble moving as it was. Mickey didn't fare any better. The shadows rendered him a dark, writhing lump on the ground. The two struggled to fend off their attackers, feeling their sharp claws slicing into everything. Aerith's armor defended her chest rather well, but every powerful scrape against the metal made her tremble with panic. She could feel them ripping off her helmet and tearing off a gauntlet from one of her protective arms. When they struck at her exposed face, she reflexively tried to shield herself while conjuring a spell. It was hard to concentrate, and the energy sparks would fizzle the moment they charged from her fingertips.
When the Heartless managed to pry Aerith's hands away from her eyes, she saw them up close and personal. Their glowing, hungry eyes filled her with deep dread, paralyzing her with a flood of fears that sprang out of nowhere. Instantly, her mind was dominated by images of Squall's dead, mangled corpse, of all the children screaming as the shadows devoured them, of her church burning to ash with Cloud, Tifa, and her parents howling in agony as the flames melted their flesh.
"It's not real!" Aerith thought urgently to herself. "None of it is real! Don't let them win! Don't let them stop you from what you came here to do! Squall needs you!" She tried again to summon a spell, tried to push all of those horrible thoughts away, tried praying even when it looked like the Heartless were about to claw off her head. She countered every vision with its antithesis—pictured Squall happy and smiling while sitting in the church with her, the children laughing and playing outside in the grounds, and her closest friends and family sitting and chatting in one of the side rooms.
Fire exploded from Aerith's open palms and sizzled the shadows. They flew off of her body and melted into the ground. As the heat from her flames ramped up, it shot across the room like a flamethrower until every last Heartless had disappeared. With the shadows gone, the Darkness lifted to reveal that the room was actually rather small and the door was only a few measured steps away.
"Golly, Aerith!" Mickey exclaimed, bounding to his feet with a joyful cheer. "That sure was spectacular!"
"Only because you helped," Aerith replied while dusting herself off. "Thank you for fighting them with me."
Mickey blushed. "Aww, shucks! Any time!"
"So those Heartless—they used to be the people imprisoned here with you?"
All of Mickey's exuberance deflated along with his slumping shoulders. "Yeah. That awful mage Adel summoned shadows into the cells and laughed while watching them steal everyone's hearts."
"So when you lose your heart to a Heartless, you become one?"
"Uh-huh," Mickey nodded. "But that's not the only way! There's a scarier kinda shadow out there—one grown inside giant test tube things! It was extra scary seeing that happen. They're bigger, faster, and stronger!"
"That must be why Uncle Cid and Merlin are worried," Aerith thought to herself. "But is it really that bad if Squall destroyed everything?" Just thinking about Squall made her anxious. Time was too precious to think about an impending war. She stepped over the half-clawed helmet, opting to let her sweat-soaked hair get some air as she went for the door. Getting spotted by the guards was no longer a concern. If anyone stood in her way, she'd do to them what she did to the Heartless. As her ungloved, lacerated hand reached for the knob, however, a sudden bolt of lightning blasted out to test her resolve. It knocked her back into Mickey, who cushioned her fall.
"What's this, a feisty worm?" crooned an eerie voice.
Heavy footsteps echoed from behind the fallen rescuers. Aerith turned around and caught sight of a crimson-haired woman approaching with a demonic smile. She was dressed in special combat robes adorned with golden pauldrons that almost distracted from the wild tattoos spiraling down her half-exposed, ashen skin. Stopping just inches from Aerith, she crossed her muscular arms over her chest and chortled.
"My, you're quite mousy up close. How did you ever managed to dispel so many Heartless? Beginner's luck?"
"Hey!" Mickey frowned, taking offense. As Aerith shifted her weight off of him, he rolled back to his feet and glared up at the woman. But his fire suddenly fizzled out and he yelped with panic. "Y-you're t-that Mage General! Adel!"
The woman's smile creeped wider, showing off her fang-like teeth. "I knew it was wise to save you for an afternoon snack. You've turned into a full meal."
"Mage General…?" Aerith's skin crawled just glancing at those beady, glowing eyes. "Why are you doing this? Aren't you with the Guard? You're supposed to protect the people of Radiant Garden!"
The general tossed her head back and cackled. "Someone such as I wasting my talents on those worms? Perish the thought! I hold within my grasp incredible, cosmic powers! I serve no one but my own whim."
"You turned all those people to Heartless on a whim?"
"But of course! Their screams served as an amusing diversion from this droll 'guard' duty."
"They had lives, families, hopes, and dreams! You took that all away just for entertainment?" Aerith trembled with disgust. "What kind of person does something like that?"
"The kind you should bow before."
"No, I won't," Aerith stated firmly, locking her defiant eyes with Adel's. "You're everything that's gone wrong with this world."
"You insolent…" With a darkening countenance, Adel flexed her muscles and summoned forth another bolt of lightning. It struck close to Aerith's boots, knocking her back onto the ground. The general smirked. "That's better." She cackled again, but was interrupted by one of Aerith's retaliatory bolts. It took the general off guard, delaying her evasion enough that it singled her hair. Adel took one whiff of her smoldering locks and lost her composure. "How dare you, worm!" Without wasting a second, she unleashed a barrage of powerful spells.
Acting reflexively, Aerith shielded herself with her own magic. Lighting, fire, ice, and wind rocked the prison room as the two powerful mages exchanged blows. What Aerith lacked in physical aptitude, she far exceeded with her spellcraft, taking the general off guard numerous times and landing several stinging strikes. The longer their duel lasted, the more aggressive Adel's attacks grew. She used telekinesis to rip the cage bars from the ground and hurl them towards her opponent, who blocked them with a wall of ice.
More objects from the room became deadly projectiles—chains, cauldrons of boiling oil, torches, wooden chairs. Aerith blocked them all, but not without consequence. When her head started getting foggy and her legs almost gave out under her, she drank an ether. As the viscous fluid slid down her throat, her powers instantly replenished allowing her to shield herself from every assault.
"How can one so mousy be this resourceful?" shrieked the aggravated general. "Why have you never been recruited? Why have I not learned of this potential? You could have been my finest meal! And you shall be—today!"
"Meal? Is that all anyone is to you—something to be consumed? All your abilities come from someone else's life force?"
"How else does one cultivate supreme power? Magic is an exchange! The death of one for the life of another! It is the only way we mortals may taste the fruit of the gods! To match my might, you must have siphoned the force off a hundred creatures!"
"I've done no such thing," Aerith replied with a firm shake of her head while blasting off a fire ball to counter an oncoming icicle. "My magic flows free and true."
"Preposterous!" Adel seethed as she slid to a halt. Her glowing, beady eyes creased with disdain as she glared at the sweaty, dirtied woman standing before her. "You're as ragged trash dredged from the sewer. How can you possess such ability? From whence do you come? The Door, perhaps? Are you of Maleficent's ilk?"
"Maleficent?"
"Don't feign ignorance with me!" angrily shouted the general, balling her fists and flexing her muscular biceps. "That damned upstart thinks to upstage me yet again? I'll show you—and her!" Without giving her foe time to react, the powerful mage summoned a fireball so large that Aerith couldn't block it in time. It struck her dead in the chest, knocking her back and setting her body on fire. Maddening pain seared through her, consuming the intrepid flower girl. All of her thoughts melted away, dominated by a howling agony as she screamed her lungs out to the great enjoyment of her tormentor. Adel broke into a hysterical fit of laughter as she watched Aerith writhe around on the ground.
As the armor warped in the flames and ash fluttered through the air, it looked like it was all over. Until a sudden splash of water put out all the flames and sudden, curing breeze wrapped around Aerith.
"Get up!" cried Mickey, rushing to her side with his palms glowing green. As the battle raged on, he kept getting caught in the crosshairs. He dashed from one corner of the room to the other, desperately trying to avoid getting fried, frozen, burned, or blown away. But as the place was torn to pieces, he found fewer safe spots. Then, when he saw Aerith staring down that wicked general, unafraid and unyielding, something inside of him clicked. The stunning sight of Aerith's graceful techniques filled Mickey with such an overpowering inspiration, that he ultimately forgot his fears and charged into the fray without a second's thought. He had intended to use his big shoes and kick Adel in the shins, but when the flames torched Aerith, he knew what he needed to do.
"Y-you…know…magic?" Aerith sputtered, calming down as the pain disappeared. She quickly sped up the healing process with her own abilities, reversing third degree burns that ran down her limbs. The very frustrated general launched another attack, prompting Aerith to put up an ice barrier just before her powers started to fizzle out again.
"Only a little," Mickey replied with a bashful smile. "My master's been trying to teach me, but well… let's just say I'm nowhere near as talented as you, eh-heh…"
"Nevermind that now!" Aerith said as she drank another ether to interrupt an oncoming fainting spell. "Let's join forces and take her down with whatever we have!"
"O-okay!" Mickey put on his best game-face and tossed his hands up to the air, mirroring Aerith's posture. Together, they summoned forth a powerful blizzard. Snow blanketed the ground and ice pummeled down from the ceiling, pelting Adel and putting out her fire in one go.
"Two of you?!" Adel shrieked in disbelief at the top of her lungs. Her thunderous rage made the ground quake. Countering the snowstorm, she conjured a catastrophic tornado.
As the wind kicked up to high speeds, Mickey got caught in its pull and disappeared into the swirl.
"Mickey!" Aerith cried, trying her best to not get swept away herself. Her snowy reprieve ended almost as quickly as it came, and she struggled to defend against those relentless winds. The ice from earlier whipped around, striking at its conjuror. Aerith could do little more than stand there and take it. Cycling through spells almost felt useless until she got an idea so desperate, it was impossible to formulate another. Pressing her back up against a wall and digging her hobnail boots in deep into the broken ground, Aerith threw her open palms out in front of her and willed a gigantic gale to burst out from them.
Out shot the wind, whirling around to combine with Adel's as the two mages fought for dominance over the current. Aerith's singed, messy hair whipped all around her face, flicking across her eyes and making it hard to see. But she didn't break her concentration. She ignored every distraction, focusing all of her efforts on making the tornado larger, more powerful, and just as much a threat to the general as it was to her.
The two spellcasters were neck-in-neck, using every inch of power to force the tornado to swallow the other. Adel was screaming like a banshee over the raging winds, cursing at Aerith with a horrifying malice that oozed with envy and contempt. On her end, Aerith struggled to muster anymore power. If anything, she felt herself weakening with each passing second. Everything inside her body ached, as her consciousness flowed out as freely as the winds it conjured. Everything started going dark. She needed another ether, but didn't dare reach for it. One false move, and her concentration would break, giving Adel the edge she would need to completely overpower Aerith's tornado.
As darkness creeped into her vision and a deafening ringing filled her ears, Aerith could feel herself slipping away. In those trying moments, she thought of Squall—of his tender warmth, of his supportive resilience, of his loving embrace. How having him in her life made every day brighter, more exciting, and full of promise. If she ever wanted to feel any of those things again, Aerith knew she had to push back with everything she had—no, with more than that.
Heaving deep, heavy breaths with each feeling like it could be her last, she poured every last bit of energy she had into that hurricane of a spell. The storm started overpowering Adel's ability to control it, and it looked as if the general was about to get caught up in the blast. But just as Aerith breached past her magical limitations, she could feel the undeniable toll on her body reaching the point of irreversible harm. A terrible thought instantly crossed her mind. Continuing with such an intense spell wouldn't come without a sacrifice—one she abjectly refused to make. And just like that, she slackened her hold and the intensity of her counterattack relaxed enough for Adel to reclaim her advantage.
The tornado was set to shred into Aerith, and inwardly she felt trapped between a rock and a hard place. She was damned if she did nothing, but also damned if she turned up the intensity. It didn't seem like she could win. All of her hope drained away, and as the oncoming storm moved in on her, she inwardly prayed for help. For someone—anyone—to intervene.
Mickey answered the call. Between the constant shifts in wind current, he was able to figure out a way to swim in midair and managed to guide himself safely back down to the ground. He raced over to Aerith, calling out to her as he slid to her side and tossed his hands up. "Don't give up! We can do this together!" He started conjuring his own aero spell, fueling the wailing winds into an about-face towards the general. "I'll show ya what I can do! Now more than ever I'll prove that I do more than just mop the floors!"
The gale kicked up even faster and harder, raging right into Adel and smashing her straight in her brawny, half-naked abdomen. With a psychotic screech, the general went flying across the room, crashing through the concrete wall and causing a mini cave-in that rumbled the room. Chunks of the ceiling fell down with a plume of dust so thick that nothing was visible until it settled minutes later.
When all the chaos had calmed, Mickey opened his eyes. "Did anyone catch the number of that bus…?" he groaned, massaging his aching head. He slowly sat up and looked around at the messy state of the place. The whole room had been flattened and turned to heaps of debris. As his eyes scanned the ground, they caught sight of Aerith face-down and half buried in a pile of ashen dust. Not wasting any time, Mickey bounded to his feet with a yelp and made a mad dash to her side.
"Aerith, hey! Wake up!" The little chap tried shaking her awake, but she wouldn't stir. So he tried again even harder while yelling her name. Still nothing. He started to panic, which made him too jittery to focus on a curing spell. But he tried anyway. His hands flickered green, sputtering a few stray sparks of magic here and there before puffing out smoke. "Aw, fiddlesticks! Get it together, Mickey! You gotta do this! Just like Master Yen Sid showed ya!" Taking a deep breath, the little chap calmed his mind as much as he could before rubbing his hands together to try again. Sparks went flying again, but with a little persistence, they quelled into a steady, pulsating glow. Green tendrils flowed up through his outstretched fingers and leaped across Aerith's body, wrapping her a warm, healing embrace. It didn't last for long, however. Mickey could only sustain it for half a minute before his powers fizzed out again, but that was all Aerith needed to gasp awake.
"You're back!" Mickey chirped, jumping for joy.
It took a few moments for Aerith to get reoriented. As soon as she remembered where she was and what happened, she wrapped her hands around her abdomen and realized she didn't feel so sapped of energy anymore. "You healed me?"
"Uh-huh!" Mickey said with a proud nod before pulling Aerith into a big hug.
Aerith smiled and leaned into his embrace. "Thank you, Mickey."
"Golly, heh, it was nothin'!" Mickey tried to transition from a hug to a handshake, but he suddenly grew dizzy. He wobbled a bit before fumbling down face-first into the ground. "Oh boy…I think I might've over done it…"
"Here." Aerith extended her third ether vial to him. "Drink this. It'll help you recover your magical energy."
"Golly, are ya sure? Don't ya need that for yourself?"
Aerith shook her head. "It's okay. I have one more—for when I need it most. That tornado wasn't so bad. Healing is always the most taxing spell."
Grateful, Mickey snagged the bottle and downed it like it was cola. He then smacked his lips with glee and bounced right back to his feet. "Good as new!"
Aerith let out a small giggle before she looked around for the Mage General. Only debris and rubble caught her gaze. "Where's Adel?"
"Over there," Mickey said, pointing to the caved-in wall. "I doubt even she'd make it outta somethin' like that."
"Let's hope so." Aerith got to her feet and dusted herself off. "Shall we?" she asked, motioning towards the door. Mickey gave her a vigorous nod and the together they opened it. The passage led to a second door—a large, metal one bolted shut. Aerith worried about using more of her magic. With only one ether left, she didn't want to chance not having enough strength for Squall. But at the same time, she knew that every second wasted looking for another way through would imperil her love's life. Reluctantly, she froze the door and smashed it open with a gale blast. The icy metal shattered into diamond dust, opening the way into the final chamber.
Two guards immediately jumped to their feet and ran towards the intruders with weapons drawn. But Aerith shoved them back with her spells, smacking them against the wall where they slid down unconscious. It never once occurred to the healer that she was breaking with her creed to do no harm. She didn't care about those guards. They all seemed so devoid of their humanity. There was no reasoning with them—appealing to their better nature. They wanted to hurt people, and some even took pleasure in it. Maybe if she wasn't so afraid of losing the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, she would have taken a different approach. Maybe she would have seen that they needed healing, too—a type of healing that needed to go straight to their hearts.
It didn't take long for her eyes to snap from them to their prisoner chained against the farthest wall. Aerith's heart sank at the sight. Without taking the time to even breathe, she ran to Squall, whose battered corpse was hung like a slab of meat in a butcher's locker. Trails of fresh blood streaked all across his bruised body. Numerous bones were clearly broken, with some dangling at odd angles. Aerith didn't know how to keep it together. Tears flowed uncontrollably down her cheeks as she raised her curing hands to her beloved's inflamed face before quickly running her glowing, green hands across his vital organs in a fast sweep.
"Mickey, listen to me very careful," she said, somehow keeping her voice level.
The little chap was just as horrified as she was to see his friend in such dire straights. For once, he could barely say a word. He was trembling with fright, sorrow, and anger. But eventually, he managed to hear Aerith's voice above the cacophony of panicked thoughts racing through his mind. "Anything!" he finally said. "You need help? I'll do my best!" He rubbed his hands together again, trying to conjure up some healing magic, but she stopped him.
"No, I need you to do something else for me. You said you know Tifa, right? She's here in this place somewhere—looking for Cloud. I need you to go find her and bring her here. Tell her I said it's an emergency."
Mickey looked from Aerith to Squall, and felt almost petrified. Slowly, he nodded, but didn't budge. "A-are ya sure I can't just do some quick healing with you?"
"You've done plenty already, Mickey. I'll handle it from here. Trust me."
"O-okay…"
"Please, hurry. And if you see a man dressed in similar armor to mine, ask him if his name is Cid. He's my uncle. Tell him that I need him as well."
"Cid and Tifa?" Mickey took a deep breath and pepped himself up. "Okay, Aerith, hang tight! I'll be back in a jiffy with all your pals!" With one last look at Squall, silently wishing him to get better real soon, he turned around and bounded out of the room.
Once Mickey left, Aerith couldn't hold back her feelings any longer. She started sobbing as she moved her hand to the chains that bound Squall's wrists. With a wave of frost, she froze them until they shattered, allowing her love's half-naked, unresponsive body to slide into her arms. He was too heavy for her to properly lift, so she prioritized keeping his head safely cradled while easing everything else into a resting position. With him cushioned in her lap, she held her mending hand to a the giant gash running across his cranium.
"I'm so sorry, Squall," she sniffled. "You've suffered so much. I wish I could have done things differently. If only I could go back and stop you from leaving. I never should have let you go anywhere without me. But I'm with you now. I won't ever leave you again. You're going to be okay, Squall, because we're together—and together, we can do anything. Right?"
As she conjured her curative spells with one hand, her other wrapped around Squall's shoulder to massage it. His cold and clammy skin worried her more than the infected wounds and crushed ribs. In all the time she had known him and been with him, he never lost his soothing warmth. Even in the most intense blizzard, he always radiated with the heat of a sunny, spring afternoon. Now he felt like a block of ice.
A terrible vertigo gripped at her after mending his head wounds, which in combination with his mental anguish ran deeper than even the gashes that reached down to the bone. It looked like an axe wound, or something similar. It required immediate healing before any brain damage grew permanent. She channeled her powers to breach into his mind, mending it as best as she could. Everything felt like it was clicking back into place, but when she hit the source of his despair buried underneath the physical damage, it refused to budge. It proved too draining to remedy, and she cut her losses. Whatever traumatized Squall held a vise-like grip on his mind and almost sapped all of her strength. They would just need to talk it out.
The intense vertigo almost forced her to collapse, especially when she started struggling to breathe. It was time to use the final ether. There was no other choice. She could feel many of his vital organs struggling to function. They would need every last bit of her magic to return to normal. Unlike the others, this one burned as it went down her throat. The energy coursing through her veins felt more like it was leeching her blood than fortifying her talents. But the power was there, and that's all that mattered. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she tucked away Merlin's warning and this memory to reflect on in less dire times.
Aerith traced her glowing, green fingers down to Squall's wrists where the shackles had dug into his skin and created raw, crimson rings. She took a moment to squeeze one of his mended hands before switching to his chest. His bones crackled back into place and the mess of black, blue, and yellow bruises vanished. She settled over his heart, feeling it struggle to beat, and lingered there while the green tendrils worked their magic.
"I love you, Squall," Aerith whispered, tears still flowing. She had never healed someone with so many life-threatening injuries, and never with such a weak pulse. Every small beat felt like it could be Squall's last. "You're the light of my life. Before I met you, I felt so alone. Even though I was surrounded by people that cared about me, there was always a wall between me and them. I always had to be the strongest one in the room, always had to look after them all. Sometimes I would wonder if I even made a difference—if they would have been better and stronger without me fussing over them so much. But then you started writing the most thoughtful, beautiful letters to me, and just like that, all of my doubts disappeared. Because I had you. Because I wasn't alone anymore. Because whenever things got too hard, I would always have your faith in me to keep me going. You have to get better. I'm going to make sure that you do. There are so many new places for us to visit together, so many new adventures. And…and…we're going to be a family."
She didn't know if he could hear her, but she needed him to know all of those things. Before it was too late. Aerith's words needed to reach Squall in a place where her touch couldn't.
As she made her way down his abdomen towards his thighs, another bout of intense vertigo swept over her accompanied by a suffocating pain in her lungs. No matter how deep her breaths, it never felt like she had enough air. But she had to push on. She was determined that not a single scar would remain. Yet after closing the lacerations on Squall's legs and mending his broken knees, Aerith felt her consciousness waning.
Holding a trembling hand and pushing through her double vision, she channeled the last of her magic to treat the destroyed nail beds at Squall's toes. When the final nail regrew, she all but fainted. Her neck could no longer support itself and she slumped over, her forehead drooping to rest against Squall's. She took deep, erratic breaths while pushing away the darkness that edged away at her vision. Everything was spinning.
"Don't black out," Aerith kept telling herself. The overwhelming pull of sleep proved hard to resist, however. She slipped into a fitful sleep, where her limbs kept jolting back to life every few minutes as her consciousness battled for control. By some miracle, no reinforcements entered the chamber in the time it took Aerith to reawaken. When she finally willed herself to open her eyes and lift her head, she flapped her weak hand around to check Squall. Although he looked better at a glance, when she touched his skin, it still felt chilled. Tugging off what remained of her damaged armor and stripping down to her undershirt, she took off the gambeson and placed it over him like a blanket.
"Everything's going to be okay," she murmured while stroking his soft, brown hair. "I'm here with you, Squall. You're going to wake up soon and you'll be okay." Aerith leaned down and gently kissed his lips. They were dry and cracked. He needed water. Bucking the risk to her own wellbeing, she conjured a small chunk of ice in her palm then melted it with fire. Holding Squall's head upright, she helped him hydrate with small sips of water that rolled down his throat. Even with such a small spell, the magic tore away at Aerith's already depleted energy. A splitting pain seared through her temples and her tongue twinged with the acrid taste of metal. Blood streaked out of one of her nostrils as the room started spinning again. She wiped it away, but made herself nauseous in the process. Seconds away from fainting, she grabbed hold of Squall's nearest hand and squeezed it hard, praying it would ground her.
And it did. Because he squeezed back.
As Squall stirred awake, the elation swelling inside Aerith's heart overpowered her fatigue. Even her headache went out the window, lifted by a rush of happiness-infused adrenaline rushing through her when his warmth return. "Hey, you," she cooed, stroking his cheek.
Aerith…? He looked up and saw her sweaty and dirt-caked face framed by her disheveled, singed hair. You're so beautiful… It didn't even dawn on him that there was something wrong. He was just so happy to see her. Without realizing it, Squall reflexively brought her hand up to rest over his heart and caressed it with his thumb. Still too weak to talk, he just stared at her with his tired, wistful eyes.
They gazed at one another in a comfortable silence that only they could understand. The same type of silence they enjoyed when leaning against each other in the church or lying together in each other's arms. It carried an aura of the deepest, truest love. They shared that moment for as long as they could, both squeezing the other's hand in lieu of the embrace their weary bodies denied them.
Squall wanted to say something, but he struggled to think. His head felt like it was full of cotton. The only thing he knew for certain was the serenity of his love's presence. As he gazed into her shimmering, emerald eyes, he felt himself overcome by a peaceful bliss. Soon, his eyelids grew heavy and without realizing it, he slipped away back into a deep slumber. As his hand slackened in hers, Aerith had just enough strength to tuck his arm under the makeshift blanket before she felt the inescapable fatigue creeping up on her. Though she tried to resist, she couldn't stop herself from slumping atop Squall.
The sudden rough undulation pulled Aerith from her slumber. As she came to, a terrible migraine greeted her. Disoriented and unable to focus, it took her a while to realize she was no longer with Squall.
"Hey, you awake?"
It was Cid. He was carrying her in his arms as he rushed down an uneven, rocky passage somewhere underground.
"Uncle…?" Pain shot down Aerith's head and she struggled to speak.
"Take it easy, sweet pea. We'll be out soon."
"Where's…?" She frantically looked around for her beloved, but it was hard to see through her blurry vision.
"Don't worry, Aerith," said Tifa who came up next to her. "I've got him right here." She had Squall and Cloud both tossed over her shoulders like sacks of potatoes.
Aerith smiled. Everyone she loved was officially safe. Relieved and relaxed, she nodded off again.
Squall stirred awake in the late hours, blanketed in darkness. The ghosting of soft bedsheets against his bare skin surprised him as he expected to find himself still dangling by the wrists in a dungeon. His last memories eluded him. A powerful fog clouded everything in his head, making it difficult to recall anything aside from Kinoc's arrogant, swine-like face. Glancing up at the ceiling, it looked foreign to him. He shifted, trying to get up to explore when he noticed a weight on his torso.
It was Aerith.
She sat in a chair next to his bedside, having fallen asleep draped over him with her head resting on his chest. Squall sat up a little and placed his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He wished he could pull her into bed with him, to get what he always wanted—falling asleep with her wrapped in his arms. Although tempting, her peaceful slumber made him reluctant to disturb her. It was enough to just feel her presence. Yet without realizing it, his thumb caressed the back of her hand, which slowly summoned her out of her dreams.
"You're awake," Aerith uttered with a sleepy smile.
"So are you," Squall breathed with a growing grin.
The healer lifted herself upright. Even in the middle of the night, her emerald eyes shimmered and Squall got lost in them. They gazed at each other fondly for a time until the weakened soldier let out a terrible, dry cough. Aerith reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and lifted it to her love's parched lips. He downed the whole thing in one go. "I'll get you some more," she said, pushing from her chair. But Squall didn't want to let go of her hand. When she turned to look at him, she saw a deep sadness in his eyes.
"Don't leave me," he pleaded, barely above a whisper.
Aerith knew he didn't mean the trip to the sink. "I would never leave you." Without another word, she set the glass down and leaned over to kiss him. Squall's free hand wrapped around her thigh, enticing her into bed with him. They both yearned for each other's embrace and it didn't take long before they laid together with their limbs entangled under the covers. Their agonizing separation was finally over. As she kissed Squall again, Aerith's hands traveled down his mended body, taking pleasure in her successful magical prowess as her fingers reacquainted themselves with his every unblemished contour. When she reached his waistband, she tugged it down and quivered with anticipation at his excitement.
Even if he felt groggy, Squall's desire for Aerith fueled him with vigor. He wasted little time freeing her from her nightgown and reveled in the smooth feel of her bare body against his. All of his fears and doubts remained buried under a murky fog. As he held his love close and caressed her with his tender touch, the melodious sound of her hastened breathing filled him with greater passion. His voice husky, he seductively growled Aerith's name in her ear, which drove her legs to wrap tightly around his waist, locking their hips together. He pressed her ever closer, relishing in the softness of her hands as they glided down his back where they held him as tightly as his held her.
Their desire for one another enveloped them in a heated bliss as they reunited in completion. Savoring every moment, they lost themselves in a mixture of transcendent love and carnal delight.
"Oh, Squall…" Aerith moaned, overcome by ecstasy. She pulled him in even more, reaching a new depth in their union, sending waves of mind-numbing pleasure rippling throughout her body.
Squall again growled in her ear, electrified by her eagerness. As he pushed to deepen their connection, he pressed his lips against her neck, tenderly kissing her and eliciting a much louder moan. Aerith quickly found one of his hands to squeeze, tightening her grip as he trailed his lips up to find hers. Their tongues entwined to taste the sweetness of their devotion to each other.
Everything felt perfect in that moment. They both neared a much needed climactic release, one to purge all of their fears and worries. Just before they could reach it, however, a sudden, harsh knock pounded against the door.
"Aerith!" Tifa shouted. "You have to come quick!"
With a gasp, Aerith reluctantly pulled her lips away from Squall's. "Don't…" he begged, holding her tightly. He still needed her, and she him. Aerith hesitated, not wanting to dampen her desire before they had finished. But then the door flew open and Tifa barged inside.
"Aerith, it's Cloud! He's—oh…" Tifa's face flushed bright crimson and she spun around to face the hallway outside. "Oh my god, I'm so, so sorry! But you really have to help…he's…I don't think he's going to make it!"
"I'll…I'll be right there…" Aerith breathed, caught between a state of sensuality and panic.
"Thank you," Tifa said, hurriedly running back out and rambling off another embarrassed apology as she closed the door behind her.
Fully ripped away from their heated passion, Aerith lifted herself free of Squall's embrace. It was hard to break away from his loving warmth, especially when it left them both so unsatisfied and hurt. Just as she made to slide off the bed, Squall grabbed her hand.
"Please…"
"I'm sorry, I…I have to go," she replied sullenly. It made her heart ache to look at him. In his eyes, she saw that awful shadow of abandonment and felt the cruelty of denying him release. But she knew she didn't have time to help him overcome it now. Aerith quickly squeezed his hand before slipping free of it to get dressed. "I'll be back soon," she promised as she hurried out the room.
When the door shut, Squall stared at it with misty, longing eyes. Aerith's departure left him painfully blue. He waited for a long time—for the pain to subside, for her to return, for everything to go back to normal. But none of that happened. As he tested the limits of his patience in that awfully vacant room, Squall's fuzzy memory started tormenting him with resurfaced guilt. He picked at it like a fresh scab, irritating it until it peeled off to bleed crippling sorrow everywhere.
She's right to not come back. I don't deserve her. I shouldn't even be here… The doubt started creeping back in again. Closing his eyes, he rolled over onto his side and resolved to leave the moment his heart felt strong enough to get him out of that bed.
When Cid brought everyone home, Merlin had been waiting in the kitchen sipping tea. The wizard was greeted not just by the engineer and his niece, but by countless prisoners freed from the Academy's underground holding cells. Wasting no time, Merlin conjured dozens of extra beds and used his same trans-dimensional spell that enhanced the size of Cid's garage to dramatically expand the basement into a makeshift dormitory.
In a separate room far from the others was a single bed surrounded by tables littered with dozens of potions, tinctures, and poultices. Cloud lay on the mattress tangled in the covers, his emaciated body drenched with sweat as he writhed around moaning and groaning. A yellow goo poured out of his every orifice, staining the sheets before crusting over. The echoes of his eerie cacophony made all the survivors restless, preventing them from sleeping. They whispered about the creepy man locked away at the end of the hall, fearful that he posed a threat.
The first thing Aerith had done after waking up, was rush to find Squall, who had been given a small cot in the dormitory. She immediately rectified that, having him moved to her bedroom upstairs. But just before she could settle down at his side, Tifa had pulled her away to tend to Cloud. In her eagerness to help Squall, the healer had forgotten all about her friends. When she finally saw Cloud after weeks of worrying about him, the sight of his frail, gaunt frame horrified her. Without delay, she went right back to work channeling her healing powers even though the short rest barely managed to restore her energy. At the very least, she managed to quiet Cloud down to stop him fidgeting.
Aerith worked hard, but her magic reserves didn't last long. Without any ethers to boost her ability, she ran to find Merlin. While he refused to directly heal Cloud, he did allow his pupil to rout around his portable potions stock. She walked away with a variety of restoratives and managed to get Cloud to drink them. When he finally fell asleep, Aerith felt comfortable enough to return to Squall, figuring that any other help could wait until the next day. She had no idea that Cloud would suddenly jolt awake in the middle of the night screaming at the top of his lungs, or that a strange, viscous fluid would start gushing out of his ears, nose, and eyes.
"How did this happen?" Aerith exclaimed as she ran to Cloud's side.
"I don't know!" Tifa cried, rushing to the other end of the bed. She was doing her best to not panic, but couldn't help it. "One minute he was asleep, the next he was freaking out with all this gunk coming out!"
"Hold him down!" Aerith instructed. She was trying to reach her healing hands to Cloud, but he was thrashing around so much that she couldn't touch him for long. Tifa pinned him by the shoulders, giving the healer room to cast a curative spell. Whatever those gooey excretions were, they wouldn't stop flowing. Even magic interference couldn't stop them oozing. Maybe if Aerith had been better rested, it would have made a difference. Every minute she spent channeling her energy made her lungs burn as if she was running a marathon.
Close to fainting, Aerith broke away from her spell and staggered over to one of the potions tables. With blurred vision, she tried to find one mixed with slippery elm and hyssop, but she couldn't quite make out the labels.
"What are you doing?" Tifa shouted, frantically trying to keep Cloud in place. Each one of his pained, gurgled shrieks threatened to loosen her grip as she struggled to contain her fear.
"I need something to help with the expulsion," Aerith tried to explain while fighting an oncoming migraine. It was getting harder to see anything, but she kept fumbling around, holding up vials right up to her face until she found the exact one. "Open his mouth."
"Seriously? I only have two hands!"
"He has to drink this." Aerith's voice grew weaker by the word, but Tifa was too frazzled to notice.
"I can't let go of him like this! He'll fly off the bed! You'll have to do it yourself!"
The healer paused for a moment, trying to steady herself. The horrible sounds coming out of Cloud grew louder and amplified her splitting headache. Aerith felt like vomiting, but between Cloud's fits and Tifa's goading, she couldn't find the time for it. Going slow, she edged towards her patient's oozing mouth and attempted to hold it open. But he spat at her, and she recoiled.
This wasn't how she expected her night to unfold. Aerith had wanted to fall asleep in Squall's loving arms, to dream with him and wake up in the morning to see his handsome face smiling at her. Instead, she was covered in mystery fluid while fighting—fighting to stay conscious, fighting with Tifa's panic attack, fighting against Cloud's mysterious disease.
It was all too much. She collapsed.
"Aerith!" Tifa shouted. She wanted to rush to her friend's side, but couldn't leave Cloud. "Aerith, are you okay? Please, say something!"
"Hey now, what's all the racket in here?" Cid suddenly walked in. Dressed in his pajamas and nightcap, he scratched his chest with a yawn as he took stock of the place. Some of the refugees had gone clamoring into the garage for safety, dragging him out of his temporary bed in the process. When he caught sight of Aerith barely staying conscious on the floor, he ran to scoop her into his arms. "Sweet pea, can you hear me?"
"C-Cloud n-needs…" The healer lifted up a shaky, fragile hand to extend the vial and Cid quickly swiped it.
"Hush now, it's okay," he said, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his niece's face clean. "Ol' Uncle Cid's here to make it right." Before Aerith could so much sputter out a response, Cid turned to Tifa and tossed the vial. "Give it to the boy!"
Tifa caught the vial, still pinning down Cloud with her other hand but his fit was growing more violent. "But I'm—"
"Just do it, dangnabit!"
Spurred by the order, Tifa quickly let go of Cloud and forced his jaw wide open. He almost rolled off the bed, but the brawler managed to upend the potion into his mouth and then restrain him. Cloud jerked around unnaturally, spewing out bits of potion mixed with mucus and Tifa feared that he was beyond help. But by some miracle, he gradually settled down. The gunk soon ran translucent before trickling to a stop, and Cloud closed his sunken eyes.
"Is it over?" Cid asked, daring to break the silence. Everyone had been holding their breath, too afraid to move much less say something for fear of restarting the frenzy.
"I…think so?" Tifa lifted the pressure from her hold ever so slightly, relieved when Cloud didn't stir. His breathing was low, with short, quick gasps that almost sounded like erratic snoring. He appeared to be asleep.
"He…needs…rest," Aerith said, her voice weak and frail. She was teetering on the verge of fainting but held on in case Cloud still needed her.
"So do you," Cid replied, hoisting her up into his arms to carry out the door. "C'mon, let's get you back to bed." Just as he was leaving, however, Merlin appeared to cut him off. "Where the hell've you been?"
"Reading one of my tomes, of course," replied the wizard. He gave Aerith the once-over and tutted. "Bring her to my study. She needs more than rest."
"Oh, so now you'll help?" Tifa bitterly snapped. She hadn't wanted to bother Aerith at first, opting instead to get help from Merlin. But he had rebuffed her and disappeared into a thick plume of smoke when she refused to leave.
"This is different."
"How?!"
"I could tell you, but I'm afraid it would be too much for you to bear."
Tifa was almost rendered speechless by the insult. She was about to start arguing with the wizard, but caught herself in time. The last thing she wanted was to wake Cloud. Before she could think of something quieter and calmer to say, Merlin had already led Cid and Aerith out of the room.
As her uncle carried her to the other side of the magically enchanted house, Aerith pined for Squall. If not for her crippling exhaustion, she would have demanded that they bring him to her. But she couldn't form the words. She ached for Squall in silence up until she finally lost consciousness.
