Aeris
Silence.
No, not silence. The wide and even steps of my guide maintain a heavy softness, my own irregular, scuffed and clumsy by comparison, my heart beating in excess of the exertion. My palms tingle, I brush them against my cloak.
What am I doing?
The trail has begun to steepen and harden, the distinctive rock formations of the Nibel mountains consuming parts of the narrow pathway.
No. This is no good... this distance is no good.
I feel the pinching sensation of adrenaline in my limbs as I hasten my steps to a jog, closing the gap that's been widening between us.
I peer across... making my expression accusatory as I focus on the solid earth beneath my feet, feeling it extend upwards and through me.
I'm not afraid. I am here.
He turns partially, unhurried and indulgent, blinking down at me in acknowledgment, before returning his attention back to the path.
"What is it?" He asks flatly.
Blood from a stone.
I stop.
He follows suit, although, with a patronising air of patient disapproval. Indignation pulses it's strength through me.
"You really are difficult," I exhale.
"difficult?" he returns with a faint chuckle.
I close my eyes. Yes. Difficult.
So... far away... how can I...
The idea of prodding at him, of attempting to tease him out as I usually would with another person, is so absurd that it ignites a foolhardy curiosity—
I nod, affecting seriousness. "May I ask," I begin, throwing caution to the wind, "how it is, that you expect me to stay close," I raise an eyebrow with the hint of a smile, "let alone protect me, as you say," I wave a hand dismissively, "when you charge ahead like that? You can't even see me."
He blinks again, slowly, doubtlessly in some sort of cold blooded contemplation, before replying.
"I can hear you. You are quite loud."
I close my mouth, pressing my lips together.
Effortlessly rude, as usual. General.
My curiosity is renewed, along with my annoyance. It helps me to reassure myself, to limit my frame.
I am not afraid of you, this is just a game, and you're a worthy opponent, that's all.
I need a strategy.
"You know," I shrug, vaguely mocking his nonchalance, "I've thought of so many things to say..." I step forward, looking around us. "I thought to ask you about the world. I thought—someone as famous as you are..." The corner of his mouth twitches downward. "Someone in your line of work," I continue, "must be well travelled..."
"Previous line of work."
I stare at him for a moment, waiting patiently.
"You see," I sigh. "That was the perfect opportunity for you to elaborate." I stretch my arms out at my sides, "but the fault is also mine, I didn't ask, partly because—well, I wouldn't want you to think me frivolous." I smile affecting innocence.
He allows another silence to settle over us. I stubbornly maintain the facade of my playful gambit even as cold mako corrodes through it.
"What do you wish to know?"
I feel my face light up with a smile. Yes! Play along!
"Well, frivolous questions are usually the best starting place... so... do you have any favourites?"
He turns, facing me fully. My heart lurches but I hold the line, revealing no signs of being affected by the unflinching judgment of his focus.
"Knowlespole."
Knowlespole...
"Where I was born?" The professor had told me as much. It's where he'd hid with Mother— where he took Sephiroth after they—
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It's quiet."
I open my mouth, quickly closing it again as I realise I've no response prepared. His lips twitch. I stare at them.
Did he... Did he just tease me?
My heart does an involuntary flip of victory.
I watch as my adversary closes his eyes, shaking his head slowly, a calm smile stretching across that placid mask of his. Sharp green eyes reopen. I meet them softly.
Where are you..? Show yourself to me...
"Have you ever seen snow?" he asks. His voice is low. "Aeris," he appends, after a pause— slightly too long— deliberately so.
I shake my head.
Just a game.
I have actually seen snow— I realise absently, holding his gaze and my composure— Once or twice, selling flowers on the upper plate. It didn't settle, melting on my skin and basket in icy little touches. I remember thinking how strange it was that something so cold could feel so comforting.
Does that even count though?
Sephiroth steps forward.
"You are correct..." he resumes, looking up at the sky above us, the morning sun casting itself in a jagged line across his cheeks as it crests rocks from further down the path. "That I have travelled... many places..." he shakes his head, and I wonder if it's a trick of the light when I see a shadow of caustic melancholy pass over his lidded eyes. "The world is full of noise and... memory. Quiet—" His eyes move down to mine, "is a rare thing." My heart has sped up again. I will it to slow. "Snowfall has a way of smothering noise, of numbing edges, of slowing blood," he tilts his head in cool curiosity, "of burying secrets."
"I don't remember my birthplace," I distance, quietly, evenly, though noticing a strange edge to my voice.
Another, slow smile spreads across his face, not quite reaching his eyes. Gracious yet unsettling. "I've never seen snow so deep."
Just a game. Just a game.
"You know," I walk forward, passing him by a few meters before turning back with a smile, "I don't think I've heard you say so much since we set out," I clasp my hands behind my back, willing him back into my lighter framing of things. "I had a feeling you'd respond well to frankness," my smile brightens a touch cheekily.
He laughs— low, cold, clear— moving towards me, "Perhaps," he chuckles, looking down. For a mad moment I think he might touch my face, but he reaches past it. The hairs on my neck stand on end as the sudden absence, then quick return, of the weight of my hair informs me of what he has touched. "about as well as you do not."
He turns away, without acknowledgment of any invasiveness, without waiting for any response, he simply resumes passage up the mountain.
Just a game. Just a game. Just a game.
Nausea rises. Slowly. Filling me.
—Too close.—
How can he be so far away and then—
I reach back to my ribbon with searching fingers, relieved to find the cool touch of materia— still in its place.
—"What materia is that?"—
Too close.
I turn to watch as this terrible man slows further up the path, turning back towards me critically with that same, abominable, patience.
It's not just a game.
Or not one I'll win easily.
"You are no fun," I sigh, finding my voice— a bit wobbly, but steeled with honesty, lightened by levity. His responding chuckle is unexpectedly coloured with uncharacteristic spontaneity. I move to follow, allowing the dizzy mix of feelings the sound inspires to pass through me unexamined.
AN: Another short chapter I'm afraid (even after so long), I'm finding that to achieve what I wanted from this section I need both the Aeris and Sephiroth povs.