As they stepped out of the tree line and got their first view of the grandeur of the Cetran capital before them, Zack gasped audibly at her side. Truth be told, Aerith was tempted to do the same. She'd heard stories and seen pictures, but none of them did justice compared to seeing it in person—and this was only a tiny fraction of the very outskirts.
The city was surrounded by a glistening, flawlessly smooth, marble wall that passed out of view on both sides. The sun gleamed off it, giving the effect that the rock itself was emitting a subtle glow. Beyond, the upper extents of houses and shops could be seen poking above the wall, but the most stunning aspect of all was the gigantic tree, towering above everything in the very center of the city with its uppermost reaches hidden by the clouds far overhead.
"How . . . how can it be so big?" Zack asked. "I never thought I'd ever see anything taller than Shinra Tower."
Aerith couldn't help but smile. "It's the Originator Tree, the place where life began on the Planet." Her mother had told her the stories as a child, and she'd always looked forward to the day she'd be able to see it in person. Now that she was here, it was even more spectacular than she'd imagined. "Come on, that's where we'll find the Council."
She led him to the nearest gate—an open archway in the marble—where two men were leaning against either side chatting with each other. They both snapped to attention when they noticed Aerith and Zack, drawing their swords and stepping into their way.
"State your name and business!" the guard on the right loudly declared, looking between the two of them.
Aerith took a single step closer, gesturing to Zack behind her. "My name is Aerith. I've come with a prisoner of war to stand trial before the High Council."
"A Half? In the presence of the Council during wartime? You can't be—"
He was interrupted as the other guard elbowed him in the side. "Wait, that's her! The one they've been talking about, I recognize the name."
So word of her had reached the capital after all. Aerith wasn't sure if that would help or hurt her chances of meeting the Council. She had, of course, known that sentiment towards half-bloods in the capital had always been more negative than it was in the surrounding areas—and that it had only gotten worse since the start of the war—but what she hadn't expected was to have it shoved in her face immediately on arrival.
The first guard hesitated, seeming to size her up for a moment before grudgingly sheathing his sword. "Very well then, you may enter the city, but I will personally be escorting you to the Council's waiting chambers to ensure you don't do anything suspicious."
Wanting nothing more than to grind her teeth, Aerith instead dipped her head and forced a smile. "Thank you. We appreciate your kind offer of an escort."
She and Zack followed as the man turned and made his way through the archway and into the streets of the city on the other side. Now that she was able to get a better look, Aerith saw that the buildings of the capital were mostly the same as they'd been in Farstar—just much larger and often fancier. Instead of trying to keep the natural appearance of the tree they were built out of, the buildings added artistic flourishes and even the occasional sculpture to draw the eye.
In particular, the shops were heavily themed to make it clear what was sold inside. A giant pair of scissors where the doorway was the triangular gap between the two blades marked a barber. Next door, a building with dozens of windows that had cloth of every color fluttering out into the breeze was clearly a tailor's shop. Across the street was an open plaza, filled with various stands and packed to the brim with people shopping at an open-air market. It was undeniably impressive, although not beyond her expectations from the stories she'd heard as a child.
Zack, on the other hand, appeared awestruck—his mouth even hanging open as his head swung from side to side to take in the many sights. "This is . . . nothing at all like Midgar," he murmured, pulling a smile from Aerith's lips.
"We don't use metal at all in our construction so it is quite a bit different."
He looked over at her in surprise. "You've been to Midgar?"
"Just once, before the war started," she partially explained, looking away from him so that the pain she knew was written on her face would be hidden. Thankfully, he seemed to accept the answer—she didn't want to have to think back on that day any more than necessary.
Down one of the sidestreets they were passing, Aerith caught sight of someone riding a giant yellow bird. She couldn't help but smile upon seeing the chocobo, and she would have rushed over to get a closer look if they hadn't had an escort. For now, it would have to wait, but once she'd handed Zack over to the Council, surely there would be some free time to interact with the birds before heading back to Seoda and the others.
The guard continued to lead them onward, always heading in the direction of the Originator Tree. As they drew closer, it became more and more apparent just how incredibly huge it truly was. She knew that it never shed any of its leaves, but if it were to, a single one would cover an entire city block. Before much longer, they reached the base of the trunk where they found doors and windows grown into it just like all of the other buildings in the city—only on a much larger scale.
"You'll need to wait for the Council to agree to see you," he said. "Follow me, I'll take you to one of the waiting cells—I mean, waiting rooms."
"Do you know how long that might take?" Aerith asked as they entered the great tree. "This is fairly important, and I can't afford to be away from the front lines for too long."
He quickly glanced over at her before looking away, although not before she could see the naked disdain in his eyes. "Yes, well, the Council is incredibly busy and can't just meet with anyone who clamors for an audience, now can they? Especially not when the request is from a Half." The last part was said in a low mutter, which Aerith imagined she wasn't supposed to have heard.
Reaching their apparent destination, the guard swung open a door and gestured for them to enter. The inside was shockingly sparse with only a single stool for furniture. A lone Lightning Materia flickered in the ceiling, a sign that the spell was old and needed to be renewed. Aerith gently poked the stool with her boot and watched as it rocked slightly—one of the legs was slightly shorter than the others.
"Wait here until you are summoned or hear further instructions," he said, giving them a stern look. "Any attempts to leave this room will be treated as a hostile action and will be met with lethal consequence." With that, he spun on his heel and shut the door behind him, except it failed to properly latch and swung slightly back open, requiring him to try a second time with slightly less force.
Zack stepped to the center of the room and slowly spun around to take in the space before letting out a low whistle. "Damn. This place is a complete dump. I'd expect to be left here, but I'm surprised they didn't take you someplace nicer. Aren't you one of them? They're hardly treating you any better than they are me."
"No. They'll never see me that way, not with the human blood in me," she said bitterly.
"Well that's silly, it's not exactly something you can control, now is it?"
Aerith smiled softly. "I wish everyone was as open-minded as you are. You remind me of someone I used to know, actually."
Zack looked at her in surprise. "Oh, really? Who?"
A surge of regret filled her. Why had she even brought this up? Those memories were too filled with pain. "No one worth mentioning. It's not like you'd know him anyway."
Thankfully, Zack seemed to recognize she didn't want to talk about it and didn't press any further, instead leaning back against the wall and sighing loudly. "How did they immediately know about your blood? Is that something you can tell with magic?" he asked instead.
The question caught her off guard, if only because it was so obvious she'd never considered it before. Zack had grown up in a completely different culture, however, so it made sense that he wouldn't know. "It's because of my name," she explained. "There's an old tradition among the Cetra that full-blood, feminine names end with an 'a', while half-blood names start with one."
"Huh." He paused, looking thoughtful. "I don't mean to be rude, but that . . . kind of sucks. I'm not a big fan of identifying people like that, it feels . . . cruel."
Aerith let out a short, sharp laugh. "You're not wrong. My mother even told me she regretted it, that she wished she'd broken the tradition. I won't lie, as a kid it was . . . pretty rough, but at this point, I don't mind it so much. I've found that it says more about those who bring it up than it does about me."
"It really does. I wanted to deck that guy so hard, but figured it probably wouldn't help our case, even if it would have felt so damn good." Pulling away from the wall he walked over to the stool and dropped down onto it—which promptly toppled over and sent him sprawling onto the floor. "I'm good! Meant to do that," he groaned, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.
"I'm sure you did," she said, biting her lip to keep in her laughter. "I imagine the floor is more comfortable than that stool would have been anyway."
"Sure is," Zack said, grimacing. "Nothing like a hard wooden floor to make you feel right at home. I could do without that flickering light though, it's driving me crazy."
That was at least something she could take care of. Walking over to stand next to him so that the light was directly overhead, Aerith reached up and held her palm out open under the Materia. She focused, her attention narrowing in on the faint pulse of magic that still lingered inside the small glass orb. Once she had it isolated—imagining it as a small, glowing ball in her mind—she channeled a small stream of magic into it. It wasn't enough to cause the light to be any brighter, but it did stabilize it.
"Oh. Right, I keep forgetting you can just do stuff like that. Thanks."
"Not a problem, it was starting to bug me too." She moved over to the stool and righted it, this time focusing her attention on the shorter leg. Unfortunately, it was too old and the wood was completely dormant so she wasn't able to try and grow it out to the same length as the others—there was only so much magic could do, after all. Setting it back down, she settled onto the ground and leaned her back against the wall to wait.
"By the way," Zack said, turning over onto his side to look at her. "Would you by chance know what happened to the Materia in the hilt of my sword? It seems to have gone missing."
She felt her cheeks light up and shifted her eyes over to the far wall instead of meeting his gaze. "Oh. I, uh, might have destroyed it. I'd apologize, but I really do think you're better off without that thing. There was something . . . wrong with it."
To her surprise, he shrugged in response. "Eh, can't say I miss it all that much. It was handy and all, sure, but I always worried it might explode on me one day."
"They do that?!"
He nodded. "Oh yeah. It's a lot more common with the offensive ones for some reason, but they're all pretty unstable in general so it's not that big of a loss. Anyways, how long do you think they're going to make us sit in here for?"
Aerith grimaced. "I'd like to say it shouldn't be too long, but after how that guard reacted . . . I can't say it's very encouraging. They'll make sure to bring us food if it takes long enough. I hope."
"Great. Well, at least I'm getting the true prisoner experience now. I'm already missing the last two days, they were far better than this." He sighed. "I suppose I should enjoy even moments like this one, though, while I can, given that it's probably my last day of freedom after all."
A stab of regret filled her. It was why she'd brought him here, but after getting to know Zack better during their time traveling together, she found herself wishing for a different outcome. Which was crazy. He was an enemy, responsible for killing several Cetra. There had to be some form of punishment for that. Unable to come up with a good response, she decided to stay silent—averting her gaze and praying the Council would see them soon.
Aerith snapped to attention as the door to the room slid open. She wasn't sure how much time had passed since the guard had left them here, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours. The man standing in the doorway was nothing like the guard from earlier—instead wearing long, formal robes and carrying a small book instead of a weapon.
"Aerith and her Human, I assume?" he asked, looking between the two of them. Before she could correct him, he continued. "The Council has agreed to make an exception and will see you now, given the current circumstances. Please, follow me."
Jumping to her feet, she hurried after him, with Zack close on her heels as the man turned and left as quickly as he'd arrived.
"Current circumstances?" Zack asked in a whisper as they wound their way through various hallways.
She shrugged. "Maybe something to do with the war? I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."
Before too long, they came to a halt in front of a giant stone door where their escort paused for a moment and then pulled on a rope that was hanging down from the ceiling off to the side.
"You may enter," a woman's voice immediately said, coming from nowhere and yet everywhere at once.
Zack jumped in surprise, looking around for whoever had spoken, but Aerith recognized it as a spell that allowed the caster to project their voice and assumed it must be one of the members of the Council waiting for them inside. Their guide pushed on the door and it swung inward silently, revealing a massive room that must have been formed in the very center of the trunk itself.
Waiting for them on the far end were the members of the Council, seated in majestic thrones of crystal of varying heights. Her attention was drawn to one in the center in particular, raised above the others where an elderly woman sat. From her limited knowledge of the Council, she assumed that it must be Eola—the current leader of the Council. As they walked closer, Aerith looked between the other members, trying to see if she could tell who the Archmage her mother had always talked about might be.
Halfway across the room, a presence suddenly slammed into Aerith, driving the air from her lungs and causing her vision to blur. It was a magic stronger and more raw than any she had ever felt before, holding her in its grasp and leaving her reeling.
"Welcome home, Daughter."
The voice was utterly unfamiliar, and as it faded away, so too did the force surrounding her—vanishing as abruptly as it had arrived. She staggered slightly, drawing a worried look from Zack, before taking a deep breath and steadying herself. No one else seemed to have heard or felt it, only making Aerith even more confused. There was no time to process what had happened, leaving her to push the incident to the back of her mind for now so that she could focus on the meeting with the Council.
Once she and Zack came to a halt before the thrones, a woman on Eola's left—dressed in a somewhat gaudy, red robe— slowly got to her feet and looked down at them, a frown on her face. "Aerith, daughter of Ifalna, can you please explain to this Council why you thought it was a good idea to bring a Human here, to our most sacred of places?"
Aerith blinked. That hadn't been the question she was expecting. "I captured him on the field of battle and thought it would be fitting to have him brought before the Council to stand trial."
"Why not just kill him on the spot?" the woman asked. "Surely you know that's the fate that would have awaited you were the tables flipped."
"Because we're better than that!" Aerith exclaimed, shocked to hear such words coming from one of their leaders. Even if she was arguably correct, that didn't make it automatically right to do the same thing.
"I see, I see . . ." The councilwoman began pacing back and forth in front of her chair. "The part I can't get past is the fact that a half-blood brought one of our sworn enemies before us. Because the way I see it, showing him the way here, to the heart of the capital itself, is the action of a traitor!"
"Archmage Raena, you go too far!" a red-faced councilman shouted, jumping to his feet—his intricate blue robes swirling around him.
This was the Archmage her mother had spoken so highly of? The woman seemed petty and bitter, nothing at all like what Aerith had imagined. There was no possible way she was going to share that she was a Seer with someone like this.
"Why am I not surprised you would defend her, Irian? The fact that a Human set foot in this sacred chamber should disgust all of you!"
"He is not the first, and likely won't be the last," Eola said quietly, remaining seated. "You, of all people, should know that, Raena."
Red-faced, the Archmage returned to her seat, dropping into it and fixing Aerith with a glare as if she'd somehow personally offended her. "Putting the Human aside for now, there's still the matter of how this one's father is responsible for giving the Humans the secrets of how to fashion Materia. Are we also going to just ignore that?"
An ember of anger ignited deep inside of Aerith. She didn't understand what this woman had against her, but she wasn't just going to stay silent while her family was attacked. "My father would never help the Humans with creating Materia!" she said firmly, confident she was correct.
The Archmage shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Child, of course you would say that. We never like to think negatively about those closest to us, but you have to separate your feelings for him and look at the cold hard facts. The Humans only began creating their weapons in the months after the attack on Farstar where your father then disappeared. Our spies reported seeing him together with the highest-ranking leaders of the Humans shortly afterward. None of this is mere coincidence."
Aerith shook her head, refusing to accept anything the woman had said. "You're wrong. I don't know how they were able to make Materia, but my father couldn't have been involved."
Ever since she'd first learned her father was still alive and being held captive in Midgar, Aerith had wanted to rescue him. Only Seoda's insistence that it was far too dangerous had barely managed to hold her back. That hadn't stopped her from thinking about it, of course—every night before going to bed she ran through various plans, ways to safely get him out.
"Unless I'm mistaken, we have no proof that Gast offered any aid," another council member said—this one a man wearing red and black robes. "Simply being a prisoner does not make him guilty."
"But—"
"We appear to have gotten wildly off-topic," Eola interjected, cutting the Archmage off. Her attention shifted onto Aerith, causing her to swallow nervously under the sudden weight of the older woman's focus. "I have heard nothing but good things of the work you and your fellow medics are doing, Aerith. I'm sure your mother would be proud."
Once again, Aerith found herself completely caught off guard. Blinking rapidly to hold back the tears that welled up from the mention of her mother, she deeply bowed her head. "Thank you."
"As someone intimately familiar with the cause of this war, is it safe to assume you've shared that knowledge with your captive?"
Aerith nodded, slightly confused by the question.
The older woman's focus shifted over to Zack at her side. "And do you believe her, Human? That the spark which ignited this war lies on the shoulders of your leaders?"
At her side, Zack shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know what to believe. Obviously, I'd prefer for it not to be true, but after meeting Aerith and hearing what she had to say, I find myself doubting what I used to consider true. What I do know is that this war doesn't seem to be good for either side."
Eola remained silent for a moment, looking thoughtful before she continued. "Very well. In that case, the Council has no interest in holding this Human accountable for the crimes of his people. Instead, we would ask a favor of the two of you."
A favor? For the Council? Of all the possible outcomes Aerith had imagined, this was not one of them. Glancing over at Zack, he seemed just as surprised as she was. "I would be happy to assist the Council in whatever way I can," she replied hesitantly.
"This war has carried on for too long already. It is well past time we try and reach an agreement to end it that works for everyone. As youths caught up in this mess from both sides, you—more than anyone—should have a seat at the table."
Aerith wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. A part of her would never forgive the Humans for taking her mother from her, and yet, at the same time, she knew that her mother herself wouldn't want this horrible war to drag on. Eola was right, too many people had already died. That said, it still felt crazy that the leader of the Cetra would ask them to do this.
"Pardon me, but . . . I don't believe the two of us will be able to convince the leaders of the Humans that we have any authority to discuss a peace treaty."
Eola nodded in agreement, a small smile spreading on her face. "Just so. Which is why the Warmaster will be accompanying you."
"I'll be what?!" the man in the black and red robes from earlier shouted, nearly seeming to fall out of his throne before he jumped to his feet and spun to face Eola.
"The three of you will serve as our representatives," Eola said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "The Warmaster has full authority to speak for the Council during peace negotiations."
He didn't appear overly pleased to hear that but grudgingly nodded after a moment. "Fine. I'll arrange accommodations for our guests and prepare to depart tomorrow then, I suppose."
Eola shook her head. "Time is of the essence. The sooner we can bring this war to an end, the less lives that will be lost. I will inform your wife of your departure personally, Warmaster. After all, I hear she has an important announcement for me."
Aerith's disappointment seemed to mirror the Warmaster's. She would have enjoyed getting to spend more time in the capital to see all the things her mother had told her stories of, but she knew there would be time for that later, once the war was behind them. Besides, it would be more enjoyable to experience it with a friend like Seoda than all on her own.
The rest of the Council appeared to have taken the announcement in stride, leading Aerith to believe that some form of this had been discussed previously. Notably, the Archmage and a small group of people around her looked particularly upset. It only served to further sour Aerith's opinion of the woman. That was something else she'd need to get to the bottom of eventually—she refused to believe this could be the same person her mother had praised so highly.
"I believe this should be enough for today," Eola said, rising to her feet. "On behalf of the Council, I wish you safe travels. We will be praying for your success and look forward to good news on your return." With that, she cast one last look at Aerith before descending the steps leading up to her chair and heading for a doorway near the back of the room.
With her departure, a low chatter filled the room as the other council members formed into small groups. All except for the Warmaster who instead made a beeline directly for Aerith and Zack. He looked exhausted—as if they'd already made the trip to the Human's city and back again.
"Let's get going, we have a long journey ahead of us and I want it to be over as soon as possible," he declared, walking past them. "Stay close, where I can keep an eye on you, Human. I don't trust you."
"His name is Zack," Aerith said, surprising herself.
The Warmaster paused, turning to look back at them over his shoulder—his face twisted into a wry expression. "Oh, I can tell this is going to be an absolute bundle of fun."
First things first, the Cetra name thing is very much something I came up with for this story and not at all canon. When I was trying to figure out names for the OC's, I realized just *how* many female names in FF7 end with an 'a.' I imagine this is heavily influenced by Japanese as a language, but with Aerith standing out as a notable exception and starting with one, it felt like a way to tie this all together. That's also why both Myrna and Lucrecia worked out so nicely.
With that out of the way, we get our first look at the capital and it's quite grand, if brief. Don't worry, we'll be returning again later on so that Aerith can get some sightseeing in. Blood prejudice is still going quite strong, especially here, and Zack's opinion on that mirrors Cloud's. Once inside the council chambers, Aerith has yet another unusual experience and just to be absolutely clear, no, this is not Ifalna speaking to her from the Lifestream or anything. Unfortunately, Lucrecia hasn't yet returned to her role, leading Aerith to be horrified by the Archmage who doesn't at all line up with the stories she heard from her mother. As a result, she opts to continue keeping the fact that she's a Seer secret. Rather than sentence Zack, Eola decides to trust him, Aerith, and Vincent with the task of trying to make peace with Shinra. We'll see how that goes...
Next Chapter: Ruins