PSA up here! Are you absolutely certain you've read chapter 14?

I don't own anything, anyone or anywhere you recognise. Sapphire, along with a few others who'll crop up every now and then, are mine.

This website had an issue at the start of this month, where it seemed all new chapters couldn't be accessed, displaying an error message instead. So I hope you don't mind me urging you, just go back and make sure you haven't missed anything. If the last thing you remember was some hijinks in Midgar, you're in the wrong place!

We're back in business now though. And I'm making absolutely no apologies for how this chapter ends. (Kind of dying for some feedback though. Please leave a review/message me if you like where this is going, or if you have some suggestions!)

Chapter 15 - Feathers

Five uneventful weeks of walking later, feet blistered and boredom off the charts, and at last I arrived at the small port town on the southernmost point of the eastern continent.

Key word there being small. There was one solitary boat docked, and when I asked for a schedule for departures to Mideel, I flinched to avoid the spittle that flew with the laugh the captain had responded with.

I was able to ascertain that the boat would leave when his exorbitant fee was paid, and not a second sooner. Fortunately, I wasn't in a rush anymore. The SOLDIER presence on this southern part of the continent was far lesser than it had been in the north. Anything farther afield than Midgar or Junon was all but forsaken, it seemed, except for a mako reactor or three.

Living cheaply and spending my days hunting and scavenging for anything of value, my real break came a paltry month later, when two more would-be passengers arrived at the small town. Through no small shortage of fortune, the boat captain was a man of his word and didn't charge more for extra passengers. I'm sure he was just delighted that his payday had come at last, snatching the fistfuls of cash we handed over with a hearty chuckle.

The transition of late summer into mid-autumn (my rough reckoning put it at the eighth of October) was not as noticeable as it might have been farther north. In my recollection of Mideel, the most southern inhabited area on the entire planet, seasons barely altered the muggy heat, persistent sunlight and lashing storms.

I was really and truly excited to see if my memory matched up. My mind churned with recollections of my time there, the memories coaxing a smile that ached my cheeks.

Only an hour after boarding, our destination could be seen on the horizon. I could see the familiar jungle city over a glistening beach from miles away, peering from the bow of the boat that cut through the calm waters at a fast rate. I couldn't make out any movement; everyone would be indoors, taking shelter from the intense midday heat.

The ocean spray and wind almost compensated for having no shade to sit in when the sun was directly overhead, but in all honesty, it barely came close to easing the desperate heat, which only got worse the farther we travelled.

Swiping a hand over my forehead in a bid to lose the unpleasant feeling of moisture, I found myself reminded of days consumed by fire, lying on a mattress almost moulded to my body. Eugh. It didn't even occur to me that I'd have to replace that mattress. Sure, it had been past-due replacing by the time I was dropped into it, but it hadn't been a sanitation hazard like it surely was now. As far as my debts went though, I felt that one was pretty mild.

We arrived and docked before I died of dehydration, the captain coming out to see us off with an expectant gleam in his eye. He grabbed my hand as I past, and shook it vigorously; I felt almost assaulted by his forwardness. The contrast between our skin tones, his a weathered bronze and mine a glaring pink (a shade that was turning redder by the minute) didn't escape my notice. "Good trip, wasn't it? And record time!"

"Sure," I agreed bitingly - record time if you ignored the extra month - withdrawing my hand from his to tie my hair at the nape of my neck. Almost having to peel a handful from the back of my neck had me cringing. Thank goodness it was a beach town; I needed a dip. Even if it wouldn't cool me down, it'd give me an explanation for being absolutely drenched. Was everyone else suffering as bad as I was?

"Will you be returning to the west continent soon? If you pay now I can give you a discount, even if it's weeks from now, that's a guaran—"

"No thanks," I refused quickly, and disembarked. Rude, maybe, but I had a feeling that our verbal contract wouldn't stay in his memory long after he had his earnings pocketed. Plus, I was broke. Again.

The familiarity wasn't just from a distance. I noticed two badly rotted planks on the pier, which I recalled had disintegrated even before my time. I felt a fondness take me over that I hadn't really expected, despite the sticky humidity. It was nice to have a strong, certain, clear memory, for once.

"Locally sourced pineapple juice over here, sweet and cool, just one-hundred gil a cup!" a salesman hollered in me and my fellow travellers' direction from a stall parked on the beach. "Apple juice at one-fifty, made from only the sweetest Banora Whites, it's a steal!" Licking my lips, I approached the stall, greeted with a wide grin which I returned. I knew Mideel did juice well, and there was no question which I'd choose; there was only one option, really.

"Pineapple juice, please!" I requested exuberantly, readily dropping the exact change into his outstretched hand. The cup felt a little smaller in my hands than I remembered. Last time I had was at fourteen, maybe early fifteen. Probably a year and a half since. I was nearly eighteen now, wow. So old.

Regardless, the vendor filled the cup right to the brim, so I wasn't complaining. It tasted even better than I remembered. I stepped out of my boots and peeled off my socks, mindful of my full cup, and dug my curling toes into the sand, revelling in the feeling.

The dryness of the sand on my sticky feet felt amazing. The chilled pineapple juice was indescribable, just ticking all the boxes. And I marvelled that I hadn't thought of coming back here sooner. Torturing myself with the hunt for an old comrade I could scarcely remember, I hadn't even thought to give myself a break.

Pineapple juice and toes in the sand was something I hadn't realised I needed until I was right here.

I allowed myself a few moments to memorise this. Toes in the sand. Pineapple juice. Waves lapping at the shore. The cool breeze, with that fresh, salty aroma. The sun beating down, making me feel as drowsy as any exercise might, turning me into a sun-allergic tomato.

I may have preferred not to remember that last part, but it was all part of the experience, so unfortunately it was there to stay. Remembering my idea from the boat, and deciding to put it into action, I downed the rest of my pineapple juice in wasteful gulps, dropped the cup by my boots and sprinted across the sand.

I remembered tumbles and falls, fits of laughter when a foot would slip in the soft sand and send me flying. That was when I was used to the beach, coming down every week, sometimes every other day.

Today, I ran across the sand with longer legs and longer strides, feet nimble on the uneven surface, and didn't as much as wobble. I ran like I did on solid ground. My feet barely even left tracks— well okay, they did, that was an exaggeration, but only a slight one.

Well. It was a bit of a weird tipping point, but if there was a scale of SOLDIER and… not-SOLDIER, I decided I was closer to the former end of that scale.

Choosing not to dwell on it though, I took a flying leap when the first frothy currents met my feet, and landed in the ocean, almost waist-deep. Ahh. Water curled around me, rushed into millimetres of open clothing, cool and cleansing.

I bent at the waist with fingers pinching my nostrils, and pushed the other through my hair. Untangling it from its haphazard tie, making sure every strand was soaked through. And then suddenly—

A man, white-coated shoulders hunched, small circular glasses placed in front of narrowed, unemotional eyes. He spoke of experiments and the subject, and I glared because I would never be that—

"Empty the tank," he spoke to a person I had never seen him look directly at, "sedate it and put it in a cell." He listed further instructions that I didn't care to listen to because he was looking me in the eye and called me it and I was no it—

"Leave the cameras on when you leave. Inject some of this—" he passed a glass medical bottle and needle to the man, his eyes travelling down to my fists which were clenched so tight they were shaking, and his deep frown barely curved upwards in something that wasn't a smile, "—if the subject is still lively by then."

Not one to back down, even as sluggish as I was in this goop, I put a fist against the glass which blocked his face from my line of sight—

And then there was a mechanical clunk, and bubbling, and gravity started to take hold—

I closed my eyes as the green substance ran off, only opening them again when I felt air hit my cheeks and mouth—

And the green had turned to blue, and my lungs were burning, and I was bent at the waist—

I broke the surface, barely breathing in before hacking coughs took over.

"Hey! You okay?" an accented voice called out to me from behind. I ushered the cocktail of grim substances away with flailing hands before twisting to look at who was calling.

My eyes were too watery to see well, so I just waved and hollered back, "Heeey!" By the time I got to shore, I had managed to blink away the pained tears, and greet the concerned passer-by with a smile that I could only hope looked stronger than it felt. "I'm okay, just," I paused to cough, throat scratching painfully, "just discovered a new phobia, I guess."

The man, who stood bare-chested with an impressive physique, propped his hands on his hips. "Wish you had figured that out before you were that far from shore," he spoke with a furrow in his brow and lips turned down. "Wait, didn't you just come in on the boat? You crossed an ocean with a fear of water?"

"I guess I'm just really brave!" My slightly exasperated answer prompted a startled laugh from him.

"Well in that case, welcome to Mideel! I'm sure you'll love it here." He hesitated a moment, laughing sheepishly. "Besides the water, I mean."

A little confused by the welcome, but smiling politely (a strain as I felt another cough rising up from my chest) I replied, "Thanks, but I've been here before. I lived here for a couple years."

For his part, he looked abashed. "Oh, I'm sorry! I don't recognise you." That was understandable enough, I daresay I'd changed a lot in the last couple years. And as much as I had hoped for recognition, it was probably for the best— "Wait, it's not Sapphire, is it?"

Oof. "Yeah, that's right," I confirmed weakly, biting my lip.

"You don't remember me?" he quizzed, and smiled when I shook my head in the negative. I didn't quite trust myself to speak, my stomach ready to revolt once again. In more ways than one. "Luzu. Don't sweat it, we didn't actually know each other, I was friendly with your neighbours." We exchanged a handshake, and perhaps noticing my furtive glances to the path that led to the town, waved me forward and walked alongside. Another town on the small side, like Nibelheim: all the residents so nice and friendly, if a little nosy. I supposed I should return the effort.

"The Emmets?" I recalled after a moment, to which he nodded enthusiastically. I couldn't say anything more before he launched back into another tirade. I had forgotten how much small-town people tended to chatter.

"You've changed a lot since you left! Did your eyes change colour?" Reflexively, I looked away into the healthy-looking plants beside the path, still a little unsure how to feel about that topic. I think he recognised that he'd touched on a topic he shouldn't have, because he cleared his throat and tried another vein of questioning, "Why did you leave again?"

"I joined the circus," I deadpanned. If caustic evasion didn't offend him, it'd at least discourage him from more personal questions.

He threw his head back and laughed, "Man! When did you get so sarcastic, Sapphire? The outside world turned you into a cynic!"

"I thought we weren't friends before," I rebuked, squinting at him suspiciously.

He shrugged, "Well I heard you speak before! You used to dash about the town looking for odd jobs. It's all coming back to me now! Umi thought you were such a sweet girl, wanted you and Angie to spend more time together."

"Angie?" I repeated the name, hesitant. A figure with blurred features popped into my head at the name, a dark-haired man with an intimidating build and a serious aura. Contrarily, he wore a slight smile, which helped clarify why I felt so fond of the otherwise severe-looking SOLDIER.

"The Emmets' daughter, a year older than you I think. Always had the pigtails." The man put his two hands, curled into fists, either side of his head as if to emulate the hairstyle.

Yeah, no, those two images didn't mesh together in any way sensible. "I don't remember her, sorry."

"You'll probably see her, she just got a job in one of the shops on the main street," he filled me in. "Took her long enough, her folks didn't think she'd get a job at all."

"Isn't that a little harsh?" I asked, a little concerned. Nineteen wasn't that old, right?

"Maybe, but I guess you going away so suddenly for work, and you just sixteen? Made it seem like that was the thing to do," he offered an explanation with a shrug. "I didn't work 'til I was twenty-two, what would I know."

I hummed, not really sure how to respond. I had been just under sixteen when I left, actually. Something about the whole interaction just seemed a little funny.

"Speaking of which," he segued with a huff of air, puffing out his chest. The sight was… unobjectionable. "I gotta get back to it. Saving lives, you know," he smirked, smug, slowing his stride.

I cocked an eyebrow, emulating his slowed pace. "That's what you do?" I asked, observing his self-satisfied nod. "Yell at people taking a dip in the ocean?"

He deflated, pouting. "That's not fair. You were just a special case." Then he winked, starting to walk backwards with his hands behind his head. "Don't be a stranger, Sapphire!"

…Huh. Deciding not to think too hard about it, I continued walking.

The route up from the beach into Mideel was a short one, and to my surprised delight, it was a path I walked with practiced ease. I basked in recollections of excitable ventures down the hill on hot days, and lethargically dragging my heels up again on the mild dewy evenings. Not to mention, the wide palm fronds blocked the sun overhead. Ducking into the shade they provided was a familiar game, bending unnaturally to stay in the shadow they cast for as long as possible before leaping to the next one. Out of nostalgia, I did so, but only for a few moments. I was aiming for less attention, not more. Goddess knows word of the new arrival would spread easily enough from Luzu and the juice vendor, without adding more weird rumours to it.

Wandering through the centre of town, more than a few intrigued looks were cast my way, but most were accompanied with welcoming smiles. None stopped to talk with me, which I was fine with. Well...

It was a little saddening, actually. I knew that I had lived here for close to two years, and I was unsure of any real connections I'd made in that time. And yet, from the time I spent in Midgar, there was a very real and prominent feeling of loss, along with the vaguest of visions of people I had lost, and the aching of my severed attachment to them. Surely I would have something from my couple of years here?

My leisurely saunter became a power walk over time. Before too long, I found a very familiar row of houses, slightly shabby in appearance but still sturdy. One house stood out to me, maybe two thirds of the way along. I approached hesitantly, and could see that it was inhabited from several feet away, so I kept my distance.

Of course it would have been rented again since. I had left years ago, it wouldn't be kept vacant for that long. I supposed I was grateful it wasn't just gathering dust, and maybe that second bedroom was cleaned out and finally getting some use, after being little more than a storage room for all that time. That was a nice thought.

Still though, unfortunately I was left without any real ties, nothing more to grasp than what the town itself had given me. Maybe it was enough for me to know that I had spent happy days on the beach, and that I was recognised here, even if just as a kid rushing about doing odd jobs. I didn't know how I felt about living somewhere with weird older guys flirting with me anyway, no matter how ripped they were.

With nothing further to do here - because I wasn't about to invade someone's home while still dripping salt water - I returned to the town centre, and decided it was hardly a bad idea to see if I recognised this pigtailed Angie person. I dipped into the first small shop I found that fit the criteria, one with a quaint "Item Store" sign outside. The inside looked even smaller than the outside, but I supposed that was because the place was coming down with stuff. Shelves were filled and overflowing, and packed tightly together. Potted plants took up most of the remaining open space. It didn't allow for much browsing, and gave a feeling of claustrophobia. I had only just entered and I wanted to leave again.

I supposed I did need some supplies, but if I didn't meet Angie or anyone else who recognised me, I wouldn't be too upset about it before leaving. I picked up a few potions quite near to the door, and approached the counter, edging around the plants.

There was no one behind the counter, and the door on the opposite wall was closed. I could hear agitated voices on the other side of the door, rowing about expenses and money, leaving me in a quandary. Should I announce my presence, awkwardly interrupting their argument and have a tense transaction? Or should I wait for it to resolve, hope for it to be a peaceful resolution, and complete my transaction with likely no shortage of discomfort on both sides, both of us aware of the dispute that had taken place behind the door?

As far as I could tell, both would end the same way, except with the former I wouldn't have to suffer for as long. Choice made, I dinged the cheerful bell sitting on the counter.

The door slammed open, and a young woman stormed out. "What?!" she demanded, wrinkles between her furrowed brows, blonde pigtails bobbing with every movement.

…She was around my age? She looked like twenty-five… I really was a terrible judge of age.

I held up my items, about to say something to the effect of being a customer, when her whole expression changed from anger to shock. "Ho-lyyyy—" she cut herself off as she leapt over the counter, and swept me up in a hug. "Sapphire!"

"Hey," I offered uncomfortably, earning a mouthful of hair for my efforts. Bleh.

I was discreetly reaching around her to pull the strands from my mouth when she spoke next. "I can't believe you're back! Three years! Where does the time go?"

…Three years?

…

"The shop isn't too glamorous right now, but I feel like there's a lot I can do with it. When I saw the space at first, my first thought was that it was… well, pretty gross. But then I thought, I could do so much here! Like the accessory shop totally revamped a couple years back, I guess you only saw it before, but it looks amazing now. Hey, maybe we could swing by after, your fresh eyes could have a look, give me an idea where to start with the refurb'. But yeah, I wanna just totally re-do the place, take out all that old musty rubbish and open some windows, get some fresh air in, a little natural light. The plants help but they're so massive, they just kinda add to the problem. Some natural light and then I could really start to work with it, you know?"

I hummed vaguely, though she continued without acknowledgment. Even her asking a question to her supposed listener didn't interrupt her flow.

"That's the only reason I took the job, not to be a finance manager or whatever the position he offered was in the first place. I thought if I accepted though, I'd be able to mould a new role for me, one that fits my skills as a designer, something that place really needs. The owner hasn't been totally receptive to my ideas just yet, I don't really get why, he doesn't get my vision really. Just gripes on about cost of cleaning, time of closure for renovations, even says it has charm as it is! Stupid stuff. It feels like it's sucking out my soul, sitting in there every day, not able to do anything to make it nice because he refuses to see what I could make it!"

Uninterestedly, I suggested when she paused for breath, "Why don't you clean the place, save him the cash?"

The look she shot me then would've been appropriate if I'd recommended a blood sacrifice to appease the interior decorating gods to enable her to carry out her designing. "I'm a designer, Sapphire! I'm already working for much less than designers should be paid, as a favour because I know Mister Barnett isn't very well off. But still, as the owner, it's his job to hire cleaners and tidy the place to give me the room I need to do my work."

The more Angie talked, the more I understood why I was never too close with her, let alone why I didn't even remember her. She wasn't horrible or anything, she just… never stopped.

The endless monologue wasn't such a bad thing though. It gave me an opportunity to process the bombshell she had just dropped on me, and meant I was able to do so with someone there to potentially answer any questions I had. Plus, having the company made it less likely that I'd freak out and have a breakdown.

How had I missed this? How?!

I reflected on the conversations I'd had, from my first with Lana after awakening in Nibelheim to this very moment, and realised that whenever the topic of time had come up, somehow the year was never mentioned.

Lana had touched on it, but when I had only been in Shinra Manor so briefly before breaking free and falling into a comatose state on the way into the village, she couldn't have known how long I had been kept elsewhere before that. Nor could she have known the sequence of events, or the time frame of my failed escape from Shinra in the first place. Not to mention, if the train explosion was big news at the time, it had likely long since been forgotten irrespective of the months or years since the incident, particularly as she lived on an entirely different continent in a small, slightly backwater village.

Plus when she asked me how long I had been captured for, I had an answer ready. An answer so self-assured, with regards to seasonal changes and environments, that I hadn't even considered that full years might have passed. I was taken in winter and had busted out in early spring. What else could it have meant besides spending a few months in captivity?

It made so much more sense now. All my confusion over timelines, my head addled from captivity, it must've been since I got the SOLDIER treatment. The cretin that held me captive was heavily involved with the procedure, I recalled. He must've done something to me then, and let me carry on as a SOLDIER for two years (not one year as I had thought until now) before capturing me to continue his plans when I fled. Beyond the months I spent as a Cadet and immediately following the SOLDIER treatment, I recalled very little, so that must be why. The few scraps I could recall seemed infinitely more precious all of a sudden. The vision of my windswept tutor on the roof of the Shinra building slightly quelled my panic.

I had doubted being a SOLDIER before, but this confirmed it; I had undergone the SOLDIER treatment. How else could I have spent an extra two years in Midgar than I could reliably account for? And my once-unfamiliar body had likely been altered significantly in captivity, less so in the SOLDIER treatment. It must've been, for it to take so long for me to readjust. That also meant I'd had an extra year with those important people in Midgar. An extra year that I could barely remember. Those dreams I'd had, I had thought they were an imaginary happy place… they were memories, of my time with—

Genesis. My teacher, the one who I had focused on, taken comfort in, the only one who I really remembered. But he didn't care about me, not that much. Granted he had warmed up to me slightly in the more recent months, but he had spent most of the time that we knew each other bullying me, resenting me for reasons I never fully understood. It had been almost a year since I left Midgar, and we had nothing tying us together. I didn't even know how we had left things—

"Sapphire?"

I looked up at Angie, who had stood and was holding a hand out to me. A plucked eyebrow was raised, and a humoured smirk pulled back one corner of her lips.

"Come on, daydreamer. We're going to the accessory shop, I need your eyes!" She grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I let it happen, limply following behind, lost in thought.

The gears stuttering in my head, my eyes hopped over the buildings. I hoped that having some boring stuff to process would give me something to focus on while my brain wrestled with my shocking epiphany in the background.

A butchers, with a 'help wanted' sign in the window.

A bookstore, with some newspaper cuttings and front pages taped to the window like a collage.

There was a barbers, with one customer sitting waiting while another was getting their trim.

Another item store, far nicer looking than the one Angie worked in.

Another shop, hard to tell but a craft shop maybe, like woodwork? Again with newspapers in the window.

The accessory shop was the fourth newspaper fan I saw on the main street, and as the twenty-year-old stopped pulling me along to run her mouth outside the shop for a while, never letting go of my hand, I studied the cuttings.

"Local boy turned hero", "Boy from Banora will be 'the next Sephiroth'", "Apple juice genius to SOLDIER: Second Class", "Where are they now? Genesis and ch—" Genesis?!

My Genesis?! He was from here? Well, right around the corner, anyway… what were the chances?

…To think, I had come all this way. From Nibelheim to the coast, across the ocean and out of Junon, to get to Midgar, only to fail and give up on my whole reason for travelling in the first place. I hadn't dared to hope I'd get another chance like this. What a monumental stroke of luck.

He wouldn't be here, or in Banora (the next village over, a few days' walk away if memory served), but if they were this fond of him here in Mideel, someone must know him. And someone must have a way of getting in touch with him. And then I could—

For all he knew, I passed away months ago. Would he want to see me? Was it too much of a burden, to ask for his help in piecing together my fractured memories?

Wait, what am I saying? Would he want to see me? Who cares? It's not about if he wants to see me, it's about me seeing him.

And another thing to not tell him, but I wanted to see him. And I had gone through enough, I deserved a little selfishness.

So I pulled my hand free of Angie's, and apologised, "Sorry, but I've gotta go. Nice seeing you though!"

I didn't listen to her response, pivoting on the spot to walk in the opposite direction.

…

I had never been to Banora before. While I'd lived in Mideel, I was aware of its general location, as much as anyone was, but never found reason to go. It was the town with the apple orchard, the one that made the apple juice.

A tour around the Banora White orchards sounded like a nice way to spend a day, and should've been a pretty good tourist attraction. Mideel did fairly well as a tourist destination with its hot springs and tropical climate, so I wasn't sure why they didn't do more to claim Banora as a nice place for a day trip. I supposed they didn't want to invest the money into clearing a proper road from Mideel to Banora, since they were on separate islands, and the route wasn't exactly the clearest. In fact, the route was mostly a dirt path through jungle, not broad enough to fit tough off-road vehicles, let alone a tour bus. I supposed the type of person who would choose a town renowned for its hot springs as a holiday destination wouldn't be the type of person to want to trek through jungle for a few days.

Progress was slow across the thick jungle terrain, particularly with the hordes of insects; most barely looked in my direction but some attacked, and attacked viciously. The latter of those were the excessively large ones, of course. It wouldn't be that the small ones would attack…

Some were bulky and low to the ground, with a thick silky outer shell. They were a nuisance, but thankfully slow enough to dodge with only a few close calls. The others—

"YAH!" I yelped, sidestepping clumsily around a thrust from its large spear-like nose, before being thrown into a few forward rolls by a solid slam to my back.

I managed to land with some dignity in a crouch, springing forward as I expected the creature would be breathing down my neck to pounce again. Twisting, I saw it was a few feet from me, winding back a limb to attack again. I drew up my sword to parry the attack, and hopefully do some damage to the spindly arm without those sharp hooks and claws doing more damage to me. The fresh ocean breeze stung the various small cuts along my arms and upper body I had endured already.

The solid blow was a shock, but I had a strong enough grip on the cheap, well-worn sword I had purchased in Nibelheim to keep it upright. The limb was sliced through completely, and my ears rung with the shriek it gave. Without hesitation, I plunged the sword up into its unprotected neck, withdrawing as soon as I felt the tip clang against the thick armour over its head and the top of its back.

Not the best, not the worst. At least that time I hadn't been threatened with the stinger on the end of its tail - thankfully I had managed to dodge those awkward attacks so far, since the creature wasn't built for doing so comfortably, having to swing its whole body around to do so.

It slumped to the ground, with a sad wail that tapered off into nothing. I frowned, still finding the feeling of having ended a life (even out of self-defence) disturbing. At least I could see the trees thinning ahead, so hopefully the amount of creature attacks would recede as well. Sand replaced dirt and grass as I emerged from the treeline, and I took the time to stride to the waterline, splashing water on the many thin cuts I had accrued in my travels, from creatures and stray branches alike. The sting had me hissing, but I took that as a positive sign, and returned to the path I had to take.

Another bridge, to the second major island in the Mideel area. Only wide enough for one person, but it looked sturdy, likely receiving maintenance at regular intervals throughout the year. At least it was more solid than the last one I took. Even the thought sent a shiver down my spine. I was able to cross without incident.

Dusk painted the sky maybe an hour later, and being certain that I had made good progress on my first day, I stopped to settle for the night when I decided the trees were sparse enough that I wouldn't make an unwitting meal for some oversized insect in my sleep. They seemed to congregate where the forest was thickest.

Spent from the strain of the day, both physical and emotional, I was nearly asleep before I sat in a cosy nook of a tree's roots.

…

I jolted, suddenly wide awake and on the alert. Feet beneath me, hand on my hilt and ready to draw, I scanned the surroundings, taking my time and taking in all that I could.

Still dark. No sound, no movement. No immediate threat. What woke me?

Maybe… a rush of wind? No, there wasn't any. The trees were pretty bare as well; minimal branches, leaves only starting maybe ten feet off the ground. Not really anywhere for anything to hide. Nothing I could see, anyway, from every angle.

Maybe… ouch.

Rubbing my neck with a grimace, I decided maybe my head had just been at an awkward angle and bobbed with the discomfort. That must've been it.

I let go of the hilt, and flopped back against the lucky tree trunk that had been chosen as my bed for the night. I folded my hands over my abdomen and slouched.

Then, I felt the gentlest brush of something soft against my linked hands. It tickled.

Brow furrowed, I squinted at it, picking it up gently between a thumb and forefinger. A feather?

I looked up again, despite knowing that I hadn't seen anything up there before, and sure enough, there was nothing. I ran my fingers along the feather. It was slightly rough, and it felt quite weak, despite being longer than my hand from middle finger to wrist. How could I have missed seeing the kind of bird that would drop this feather? It must've been huge!

I guess maybe a feather just got caught in a branch somewhere, maybe my jerk or some breath of wind or something spurred it from its home and sent it floating down. Either way, there was nothing around here to suggest any bird was nearby, much less the giant of a one that would produce such a feather. Placated by my theory, I allowed myself to fall back into an uneasy slumber.

A few hours later, with the barest hint of light in the sky, I decided I had rested as much as I was going to, and rose. I tucked the raven-black feather into my pocket, and set off along the dirt path once again.

With the comparative lack of creatures assaulting me today as opposed to yesterday, I found myself admiring the scenery a little more, and it struck me embarrassingly late. The trees, which I had already noticed to be strange with their lack of dense leaves and low branches, were actually closer to white than brown. Perhaps, Banora White? That didn't seem like a stretch of the imagination.

Nerves tightened my stomach, even as a smile I couldn't contain dominated my face. The dirt road widened, and the chatter of insects faded behind me, as I slowly approached civilisation.

A feather lay on the ground several metres ahead of me, black in colour and close to a foot in length.

I trod on it, completely unaware, as I ran for the person ahead. Lying face-down at the side of the road, completely immobile. Were they breathing? Were they cold? Were they ill or wounded? Was there a threat nearby?

There wasn't anything nearby, I could tell that well enough before I even saw the person in trouble, so I skidded to a stop and crouched beside—

A SOLDIER? Dressed as one anyway, the uniform a deep shade of purple. Would be a little hypocritical of me to believe that meant he was SOLDIER for absolutely certain.

No sounds coming from him though, and no movement. Feeling a reluctant, sorrowful acceptance settle over me, my urgency abated, and I carefully took hold of his black metal pauldrons, easing him onto his back.

It didn't… look like he had any wounds. A few bruises, grazes, nothing more. His chest wasn't moving, but he was still warm…

I sat on my knees and crouched over him, putting my ear to his chest, listening intently.

No pulse, but he was still warm. And the sun was only just above the horizon now, starting its slow crawl across the sky. Maybe… maybe he was still in there.

The cynic in my head told me I was setting myself up for heartbreak. The optimist reminded me that nothing was gained without trying, and shrieked at me for even considering otherwise. The latter won. Gritting my teeth, I put my left hand over my right and hovered them over his chest.

Did I know how to do this? Was I taught, or did this come from an actor on television doing their best impression? Was there something to set up that I was missing? I knew I had to hold his nose when breathing into him. Or wait, was that the right thing to do? Was I not supposed to do that?

How hard do I press, is there an exact positioning or is it a guess, how many times, do I need to pause, Goddess help me I don't know how to do this-

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Should I continue—?

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Maybe I should try the—

Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, I'll do it after—

Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

His head was turned to the left, obscured by a ridiculously unnecessary, oversized helmet. I could only barely see a glimpse of his eyes beneath, a portion made of soft cloth where all around the back of the head was metal. Why even?

Quick look under his chin, no straps. I turned his head to face me with my right hand on his chin, hooked the fingers of my left hand under the cloth and pulled it back, and swept down to breathe some air into the SOLDIER.

Idiot, you barely breathed in before—

Careening back, breathless myself from the exertion and panic of the last minute, I gasped for air, my eyes remaining on the poor sod who wasn't looking any more lively.

Without my say so, my eyes traced his features, preparing to torment me with the vision of someone I wasn't able to save for far too long. Naturally pale skin, framed by— scratch that, obscured by layered auburn hai—

Fine eyebrows, over eyes with dark lashes and—

His slightly sharp but fitting nose, his pink lips turned slightly downward—

Breath stuttering, leaning back, vision blurred, hands returned their original position, one, two, three four five six seveneightnineteneleven…