The Temple of Ages So come on God, Here I am... Can you hear me? Can you save me? - Halo - ------------------------- It was vast. The monolith of bricks and mortar, held together by wisps of ivy that had long since permeated the ancient stones. Shrub which had been dense with the tendrils of forest that huddled close to the temple had instead been pushed back, as if the very temple wished to try and remain apart from all being, all life. She had lived underneath the shadows of the Nibelheim Mountains and traversed their awe inspiring and breathtaking heights in her youth, never once intimidated by them. She had lived in the squalor and splendour that was the high rise world of Midgar, even where the slums could see the spiralling heights that marked their little world, stuffed under and below it, forgotten or attempted to be forgotten. She had flown and crashed, and almost died in the process and was chasing a homicidal lunatic half way around the world because she really had nothing better to do and she had happened to fall in love along the way with one of those unlucky enough to have their fate tied closely to that of said lunatic. But standing here, she felt the breath pause in her throat and try to crawl all the way back down into her lungs, to nestle with her fluttering height and burning feelings, the pit of her passionate soul. The temple wasn't large to look at, nor was it anything other than slightly dilapidated from lack of care lavished on it with the waning of the Cetra race, but about it lingered something. Like old magic, worn heavily into the bones of a creature that refused to pass into the next life, hanging on for the last Ancient left alive, as a bridge to the world she would otherwise never know. Thoughts acting as a summons, the Ancient stepped forward and then paused at the front of their small group of three investigating the temple remains for hints about Sephiroth and whatever it was he sought here. Her eyes were pools of viridian life, glowing with something unspoken and uncharacteristically, not a single smile touched those perfect lips, pursed on the fractional leap of a thought or a word. Instead, she held herself straight and then slowly tilted her head back and cocked it to the left as if listening to someone or something very intently. This was Aerith's strangest talent of all those amazing skills she possessed, from a healing touch or the power over plant life that astounded all the others; the power to listen to the Planet's voice, the very Planet which lived under their feet. Almost ages ago now, to her it seemed, Bugenhagen had explained to Cloud and Barrett about the voice of the Planet, how he had created a machine which mimicked in a crude fashion, their unique ability to hear the Planet speak. The Cetra machine, as he sort of nicknamed it, was designed to allow humans to hear the pain that they put it through each day. Tifa sometimes wondered what it was like, to endure such an agony as knowing that a dear friend you had been close to all your life (as the Planet must be to the Ancient) grows sickly with each passing day, a sickness your healing would not reach alone. It was this thought that often made Tifa ponder on the fact that Aerith was looking desperately in the hope that she wasn't alone, that someone could help her foster the talents to help the Planet grow whole again. She isn't alone though, I might not always understand her, nor be as gifted in such skills and magic as she is, but I want to be of some use, I want to help her help this world. I'd do anything to help her achieve those goals. She smiled as Aerith opened her eyes, expelling a breath of air in a deep and weary sigh. Then she fell to her knees, clutching at her temple and murmured, "What?" "Aerith!" Both she and Cloud said at the same time. He glanced at her, as if grateful that she would think of the flower girl. Her barely restrained look that promised death by some cliff throwing episode of madness was a mite frosty. He didn't notice, as he usually tended to blank most things out emotionally. She sighed inwardly. Yet another thorn in her foot on the bracken filled path she walked: Cloud Strife. She wasn't sure how to approach him about this at all, before her jealousy got the upper hand and she ended up hurting him for no good reason at all. She knew without question that he loved the strange Ancient as much as she did, well... probably not as much, she conceded with a small smile. But the problem lay in the fact that she was unsure what his reaction would be to any confession of feelings for Aerith on her part, of boasting that she held hands and kissed her, that she stole her breath and woke every morning to see her smiling. What a boast that would be... but would it break his heart? So like always, she said nothing and just revelled in her delicious little secret, enjoyed the closeness of the girl whose hand she found first, who she helped up and who she held onto as she wavered helplessly in the after effect of the Planet's call. "It was so loud, almost a shout," Aerith whispered." "Did it say anything about Sephiroth?" Cloud demanded and Tifa was had put not to scowl - back to business in a flash, as per usual for the blond. "No, but it seemed happy to have me here. It's like it's been waiting ever so long." She looked distant, "Such a long, long time to have anyone who speaks to it." "But there was no mention of Sephiroth?" "It didn't say either way, Cloud, I'm sorry. But..." "But?" "It feels uneasy, that much is clear." Aerith's face looked a little pale from exertion and she folded gently to Tifa's side with a willing motion, hands dropping to secretly brush against hers. Tifa blushed then looked to the side, trying to cover it with a cough and then as something caught her eye, she pointed in alarm. "Look!" Crumpling on the upper most step of the temple was a figure in black, hooded and shaking much like those they had encountered in Nibelheim, muttering about some reunion, about Sephiroth and humming to their selves in the creepiest way imaginable. Cloud narrowed his eyes and set off first. Aerith made to follow but Tifa tightened her very lax grip on the slender hand of the Ancient, shaking her head and putting herself in front. "I'll go first, just in case." Aerith giggled into a hand, "Playing hero again?" "Always," she flashed a cocky grin that bubbled with good humour, and with a toss of her head, she paraded after Cloud, hearing the sweet laughter behind her. Tifa would make such an idiot from herself, just to have that laughter and smile rankle the ether. What a strange thing love was. She ascended the steps in three or four easy bounds, coming to a stop by Cloud who was, by now, holding only the ragged remains of what had once been the black cloak for the figure, wisps of it's being still fading and disintegrating into the air. The horrible smell of sulphur lingered and instinctively she covered her mouth against backbite of rotten eggs that characterised the alchemical element. "He vanished. He said he was inside..." Cloud muttered angrily, tossing the cloak down. "Tifa, we can't take her in there." "Can't we? Don't you think that's for her to decide - besides, we're here to protect her, aren't we? And this place," She gestured at it, "It's an -Ancient- temple. Unless you got a degree in Cetra when none of us were looking, she has to go in. She's Cetra to her toes, and you know it." "I don't like the idea of it though, he's just in there, he's..." "A homicidal maniac, yes, true." Tifa put her hands on her hips, noting how Aerith had to keep pausing to pull her skirt to her knees just to get up the steps, "But you can't cotton wool someone like her. She'll try and escape even harder." "Tifa." "Cloud," she retorted. His expression turned sullen and she knew she was scowling at him, feeling prickled by every word coming from his mouth. She knew excatly how he felt, she really and honestly did, but knowing Aerith as intimately as she did now after months of travelling by her side, she also knew that it was impossible to try and cage that bird from freedom. Aerith passed them whilst they were locked in staring, murmuring, "I can hear someone in pain..." "Pain?" Tifa said, taking her eyes from Cloud's and breaking the deadlock, "Who, what, where?" "Aerith... gah!" Cloud vaulted inside after her, trying to get in front whilst Tifa took her time to scuff the scrap of a cloak from the top of the temple, a ragged remnant of some dirty trick and evil lie that really didn't belong on such sacred ground. It fluttered and flared into ghastly, wraith-like life then faded away, into the woods. She watched it for a moment, and then tightening her jaw she turned and followed Cloud and the silent-footed Aerith inside, arms folded underneath her ample bosom. Inside there was a pool of very sticky blood and someone seated in the centre of it, head bowed and jerking every now and then, as if pained them to breathe. She looked to Aerith, seeing her white face, hands pressed to her mouth in shock and tears made from diamonds standing in emerald eyes. Then she looked to Cloud, who wore an expression caught between horrors and 'you got your comeuppance'. The figure gave a wet gasp, the wet tear of someone who has an internal wound and she winced, then blinked as the figure raised its head: Tseng, the director of the Turk subsection in ShinRa employ. He had managed to remain, despite the dust of the inside of the temple, marginally clean, bar the blood and gaping wound in the right side of his chest. In one bloody, curled up hand, he held the keystone, a twisted, glowing green thing that pulsated with life. His eyes passed from her to Cloud, inscrutably dark, then to Aerith where the vaguest hint of emotion seeped through. "Aerith," he gasped, tears welling in his eyes, "I didn't want you to see this." "T-Tseng," she wailed breathlessly, then hurried off and turned her back, hands moving from her mouth to cover her face. "Tseng, why?" "I came here to try an... and open the temple of the A... Ancients," he laboured, clutching the wound but his eyes never leaving the back of the Ancient. Tifa felt a wrench of pity. How strange - she never imagined she would feel pity for him. "I was following orders..." "Sephiroth?" Cloud once again barked, as if giving orders. The dark eyes of the Turk swept briefly to his face, a taut sneer happening to curl the corners of his lips, then they too relaxed tiredly, "He's inside, he gave me this wound." "The keystone?" "Take it," Tseng tossed it feebly so it clattered uselessly on the floor. "I'm not going to need it anyway." Then he struggled to try and rise up with Aerith watching from the corner of her eye, horror written over her pale face. Cloud made not one single move to try and help him, stone faced as he retrieved the keystone. But the terrible horror in the green eyes of her love was what moved her to action. She crossed the distance between herself and the Turk quickly; some small part of her distressed at what she was doing, screaming at her to use common sense: these were the enemy! But Aerith's kind eyes didn't see that... so she grasped him by the arm and with a heave, helped to move Tseng away from the pattern decorated altar and to a corner. When he relaxed, she peered into his eyes, and he into hers. There was no hint of animosity, only tiredness. She knew then, he was worth her pity, he was worth whatever scraps of compassion she had left for the human race on the whole. Stuck between everything in his life, she could see it in that moment, a look she knew was mirrored on her face and with it, came crashing understanding to both of them. Secretly, so Cloud couldn't see as he was busy inspecting the murals and the keystone to try and open the passage to the Temple, she slipped him a vial of medicinal potion; to help heal the wound a little, stem some of his bleeding. His expression changed not once as he took it, but the dark eyes crinkled briefly with what would have been a smile. Aerith was still trying to stop her weeping, so leaving Tseng to try and administer first aid to his self - pity after all, only ran so far - she came to stand, back to back with the Ancient. "Hey." "Hey," there came the snuffled reply. "You crying?" "Just a little." There was a soft sob, caught close to a strangled laugh, "I grew up with Tseng... he's someone who really knows me... there's probably only a handful of people in the world who can say that. It's just sad, you know." "Yeah," Tifa looked over her shoulder, passing her the handkerchief she kept for situations of cleaning or the rare weeping fit, "Don't cry, Aerith." "I'm trying not to; I look awful when I cry!" "I don't care - I think you're beautiful no matter what." "T-Teef..." There was a click and a green glow flooded the area under their feet, highlighting the columns and the thick, rough hewn walls where crude symbols were carved. Tifa blinked and even the Ancient who was wiping her eyes, turned to see the source of the brilliant effusion of light, which happened to be Cloud who had finally fitted the Keystone into place. Another click echoed in the room and the blond turned to wave gently, "I think it's a lift mechanism of a sort." "Then, we'd best get on," Tifa took Aerith's hand, "Don't worry, Tseng will be fine." And Aerith, all knowing, all loving, smiled and said, "I know, thanks to you." ------------------------------ The temple inside was deceptive, betraying the somewhat small in comparison outer front it presented to the world. A whole world and ruin created from marble arches, twisting stairs and steps and interlocking puzzles that ran without end or seam from one to the other. It confused the eye and the mind. The lift had left them on the precipice of a ledge and from there; she had spotted the fellow in purple, quite rotund but oozing spiritual energy that made the hairs on her arms and back of her neck stand to attention. With a pointed finger, she suggested delicately that they follow him to the room where he tried to hide himself away. Whilst caught in the process of climbing clinging Rockroot Ivy to an upper level, she turned over the thoughts bubbling away to themselves. Tseng's appearance. Sephiroth's numerous heinous acts which only seemed to add shadow to a lightless character. ShinRa's involvement. The spy, Cait Sith. Her dark dreams. Cloud and Tifa. In the end it always came back to those two; already they had woven themselves into her life so completely that she found herself unable to extricate either one from it. Cloud: the boy who hid from the world. And Tifa: the girl who shunned it. Both broken but broken in completely different ways. She and Tifa hadn't exactly spoken about the date at the Gold Saucer, but she knew that one day, Tifa would see the wisdom in her choices, even if for now they seemed to be about as a clear as mud. Tifa had become a little less possessive, perhaps trying to ease that fear of someone else stealing her away. She'd even told her about the play, where upon she had laughed until her socks should shoot from her feet with the force of merriment. But seeing Tifa smile was enough to soothe the worry in her troubled soul. If Tifa could understand, then everything would come right, somehow, she believed that. At the ledge, interrupting her thoughts, they continue into the small craggy room where the purple robed man had vanished, and once inside the air seemed significantly cooler and there was a humming sound that hovered on the edge of delicious, echoing in her ears. She knew neither of her friends could hear it, but it hung so delicately on her inner ear that sometimes she would have sworn it was closer to a sigh. Careful not to frighten the poor being, Aerith approached him and almost all at once, heard a jumble of words and pictures, feelings. Child. There was an image of how the creature must view her, and to her shock it was nothing like the girl who often pulled sleepy eyed faces at her in the mirror of a morning. Instead she was beautiful, radiant even, vibrant with the energy of a world that depended on her; flushed cheeks and excited eyes. Danger. Great Danger, Flee. Now the image in her mind was replaced with that of a man in shadows, striding down hallways she didn't recognise yet at some deep seated genetic level, it roused incredible fear inside her. She suddenly felt like screaming, tearing at her hair and howling, weeping even in utter panic at this terrible image. Below. And she understood. She opened her eyes and smiled, mopping her brow with a discreet wave of her hand and plastering a smile on her mouth; "He says we have to go down if we want to find Sephiroth." "What is he?" "Once he was a carer in this Temple. Over time, without people to speak to, the Ancient's guarding here probably lost the ability to speak with humans. It's a mixture of feelings and images, all at once and hard to sort through. I understand him, almost, though." She looked to the door, "But we still have a way to go. He's very frightened." Tifa said nothing, looking at Cloud. Cloud stared at the man for a long moment, then locked eyes with Aerith, as if he was asking her if such information were good enough to act upon. She nodded and then he gestured to the door. As a unit, they followed. The journey to find the entrance to the lower parts of the temple was just as bad. They managed to find it eventually, but it was well hidden under a marble arch, tricking the eye with the winding corridors and stairs that littered the particular area, sometimes even those stairs going nowhere at all but a useless dead end. She pressed close to Tifa as they entered to a loud thumping noise, another figure in purple running away ahead of them. The thumping noise was not erratic, often echoed with a grating noise. For the longest time she wondered if she were hearing things, phantasms in her mind, but then a boulder roughly the size of a truck came bolting past and she grabbed Tifa's hand in alarm, realising with a jolt of amusement, that Tifa grabbed back just as hard. Cloud stared, ashen faced. "You have got to be kidding me." "Don't give up," she said in a voice that was underpinned by her iron resolve. They had to get through here, the answer to why Sephiroth was here, it was so close! So saying, she hurried ahead, ducking into the side of the wall as quickly as possible. With shouts of alarm, she realised the others were following, with varying degrees of success as they pressed into divots in the walls to avoid being flattened completely by the rolling boulders. At one point, her foot wasn't so quick to escape and the stabbing pain coupled with a crunching sensation told her that something had broken in her foot. With a dive out of the other side, she came to rest at the feet of the purple robed fellow. Cloud followed almost a half second later, crashing down beside her and holding his middle, breathing like a labourer. Tifa took two minutes more, but perfect as always in any physical challenge, not a single hair seemed to be out of place. That's my Tifa. Aerith smiled then gripped her head as another wave of terror flooded her. It called her, she came to conclude, with the boulders stopping now - it called her back down the hall and so doing, she got to her feet as Tifa was prodding the prostrate Cloud with a foot, chuckling about his terrible physical condition. She left them there, eyes following her curiously, and with a turn around a bend as she homed in on that feeling, she saw a pool of water that glowed. It lit up the entire room with strange highlights. "Cloud, Tifa!" she called, stepping close to the water. She ran her hands into it as the two arrived to see her there, and she continued talking softly; "It's full of knowledge... consciousness... a living soul... It's trying to say something. I'm sorry, I don't understand. What? What is it? ...Danger? An evil... consciousness? ...show? You're going to show me?" She pulled back as Tifa and Cloud both ducked down, one to each side and the water grew in brilliance until colours could be defined, the scene sharpening... ------------------------------------------ "What's going on?" "Shhh, Cloud. Look, it's showing us!" Tseng stood close by a mural, examining it minutely as his subordinate; the blonde called Elena hovered and saluted at his shoulder. Her eyes took in the paintings, "Tseng, what is this? Can we find the Promised Land with this?" "...I wonder. Anyway, we have to report to the President." "Be careful Tseng." She saluted again, and as she turned to go, Tseng said in a voice bordering on heartbreak; "Yeah, hey Elena. How 'bout dinner when this job is over?" "Th...Thank you very much," she breathed, eyes wide, "...If I may be excused?" She left, clasping hands to reddened cheeks in alarm and her eyes wide with surprise. Tseng returned to eyeing the murals, hands behind his back and thumbs twiddling, an old habit from his past. He spoke to no one but himself, "Is this the Promised Land? No, it can't be..." There was light, there was sound and there was Sephiroth. The Masamune glinted in his hand, as if hungering and his eyes, stark green, were wild. Tseng jumped in alarm at reached a hand for the gun in it's holster warily, not once touching it however. "Sephiroth!" "So," said the General in his mellifluous voice, rich and warm, "You opened the door, well done." "This place, what is it?" "A lost treasure house of Knowledge. The wisdom of the Ancients," he laughed and straightened, glancing to the mural with a sinister smile covering his lips, "I am becoming one with the Planet." "One... with the... Planet?" His lips formed the name of the last Ancient, but no sound gave it life. Sephiroth simply sneered; "You stupid fools. You have never even thought about it. All the spirit energy of this Planet. All its wisdom... knowledge... I will meld with it all. I will become one with it... it will become one with me." Awe slid onto the face of the Turk boss, "You... can do that?" "The way..." he moved, it was so fast no eye could have followed it. But they saw the effect, the sword ramming through Tseng's chest without any hint of resistance. Sephiroth's lips hovered by the conch curl of Tseng's ear where he whispered, "...lies here. Only death awaits you all. But do not fear. For it is through death that new spirit energy is born. Soon, you will live again as a part of me." -------------------------------------------- They pulled back, each pale faced, but Aerith's expression was close to confused. "...did you...see it?" She asked slowly. "Yeah, but..." "Where is the room with all the murals?" Cloud asked over the top of Tifa, who shot him a dark look. Aerith tugged on her hair - it wasn't far at all but in there something else lay, something she had seen and they hadn't. She had to know. I have to. "Almost there." "Sephiroth is here, right?" Cloud brushed at his hair, his eyes unfocused, "No matter what he thinks, it's going to end here. I'm going to take him out!" -------------------------------------------- The room wasn't far away at all, a long stretch that gaped far and wide, with carved pictures in the walls and the sense of closeness about that room which strangled the mind. She nodded to the murals and waited breathlessly as Cloud called out into the room. To her side, Tifa came up close, an arm encircling her waist protectively. "So cold," a voice whispered and they all glanced around. The General, with white hair gleaming, was knelt, shimmering as if insubstantial, at the very end of the hall, yet his voice carried. "I am always by your side... ...splendid... a treasure house of knowledge..." Cloud scowled, "I don't understand what you're saying." "Look well." "At what?" His frustration was barely checked and it made a smirk appear on the mouth of the twisted man, of Jenova blood and horrific birth. "At that which adds to the knowledge of...? I am becoming one with the Planet." One with the Planet! She didn't know what he meant at all. To become one with it was to die. Was he dying? So with roused interest, she was forced to ask: "Become one with the Planet, how do you intend to do that?" His eyes sought her, roved over her form so she felt naked under that revealing, stripping gaze that tore away all her protections, even clothes. A fanciful mind may conceive that he indeed, saw under all her 'armaments' and the like. She swallowed under the scrutiny, blushing even as a sadistic little smile quirked his lips, piqued there as Tifa came to stand in front of her. She stared at the smooth roundness of Tifa's bare shoulder and upper arm, the soft scent of her hair and the winning feel of having her hero stand there for her, like a champion. She leaned into Tifa, as Cloud's attention seemed to be riveted wholly on Sephiroth, and kissed her gently in gratitude upon the curve of her graceful neck. Sephiroth just grinned. But he chose to humour her. "It's simple. Once the Planet is hurt, it gathers Spirit Energy to heal the injury. The amount of energy gathered depends on the size of the injury. ...What would happen if there was an injury that threatened the very life of the Planet? Think how much energy would be gathered! Ha ha ha. And at the centre of that injury, will be me. All that boundless energy will be mine. By merging with all the energy of the Planet, I will become a new life form, a new existence. Melding with the Planet... I will cease to exist as I am now... Only to be reborn as a 'God' to rule over every soul." "An injury powerful enough to destroy the Planet? Injure the Planet?" she repeated numbly as though he spoke a whole other language. "Behold... the mural," he swept his arm as he stood up, "The ultimate destruction magic - Meteor." "That'll never happen!" Cloud snarled, dashing forward and then there was a flash of light and Sephiroth was gone, leaving Cloud to stumble a few steps then stand alone in the room by the mural, arms limp. At least until he started laughing. Hysterically. She and Tifa exchanged alarmed looks and together they hurried to his side, each one unsure if they should touch him. Cloud's eyes were open and blank, but still blue, tears streaming down his cheeks to his chin where they dripped off and he continued to laugh, "Black Materia... hahaha! Call Meteor... hahahaha!" "Cloud," Aerith said, then firmly shook his shoulder, "Cloud, get a hold of yourself!" "Cloud... I'm Cloud... Cloud..." He struggled, some recognition fighting into his blank eyes. "I should remember... what do I? Remember? Remember... Cloud... my...way..." "Cloud..." She breathed sadly as he gave a great shudder. In that moment she knew, the strings Sephiroth had tied to Cloud all those years ago starting with the incident at the Nibelheim reactor - those strings lingered still and made the poor man dance like a broken puppet all for the evil mans sick and twisted amusement. Everything he could have been was buried under years of self doubt, self pity, self hate, a feeling of inferiority screwed to sticking point by the influence of that madman. "I..." he shook his head then sighed, looking up at them, "Hmm... what's wrong? Is something wrong?" "I...It's nothing, so don't worry about it Cloud," she smiled, the best fake smile she could, "Right, it's nothing. Sephiroth got away though..." "Don't worry about it... I understand what he was saying," His eyes were confused though, "So... this must be Meteor, right?" "Meteor... it looks to be huge, and dangerous," Tifa murmured. "...this must be magic." Aerith backed away from them and pressed hands to her temple - was there wailing and panic? "Just what Sephiroth was saying? The Ultimate Destructive Magic, Meteor. It finds small drifting planets with its magic. And then collides with them. This Planet might get wiped out entirely..." And just as she said that, a great dragon crashed through the wall, blowing chunks of brick and mortar everywhere, with splinters of wood from the door and she screamed. "Hahaha," echoed Sephiroth's mocking laughter. ----------------------------------------- The fight was brutal but a mark of just how far they had come in such a short space of time. Between a few swift angry blows from Cloud, her own ice magic and Tifa's incredible agility, they had rounded the dragon up and put it down quickly. The wounds they'd sustained were little to nothing, something she felt a touch smug about (after all, they had encountered one similar on the slopes of Nibelheim when Yuffie had tried catching dinner and ended up running back to camp being chased by two wyrmlings and a Red Dragon...). Now though, after Cait had said they could use his stuffed body to take the Black Materia out of the temple, as his sacrifice to a team that he had betrayed, she stood by the door to the outside world, staring helplessly into his lifeless eyes, wishing hard that something, anything she could say would make this moment go away, would make it less tragic. But his huge soft hands cupped hers gently, stroking her tanned skin and the old, small and softening calluses from hours spent in her beloved garden and she found she could not weep for this brave soul, willing to give up something for them, willing to do it despite all their thoughts and fears of traitors and liars and thieves in the night. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Cait spoke up suddenly. His little cat bobbed around on his head, megaphone waved like a pennant, like a general waves to give orders. His accent made even those grim words sound cheerful and she almost smiled, "I'll handle the rest. Well then everyone, take care of yourselves!" "Cait Sith..." she cast a desperate look to Tifa who shook her head, then Cloud, "Come on Cloud, say something." "I'm... not good at this," the blond murmured. "Hmm," Cait just grinned in the lackadaisical way he adopted sometimes, to afford them ease around a walking, talking stuffed animal, "I feel kinda the same." "Well... why don't you read our fortunes?" She was surprised at herself for even asking this, turning red to the roots of her hair. Tifa folded her arms, a dark look saying that she knew what Aerith was going to say, but after the episode with Sephiroth, also knowing that Cloud really needed to be cheered up. She pleaded silently for a moment with her green eyes, seeking understanding, and then with a short laugh, Tifa assented with a reluctant nod, but a twinkle in her dark eyes that promised her own pleasure in gaining revenge somehow, usually a tickle-fight which Aerith always lost hands down. "Say, that's right... I haven't done it in a while, huh? I'm so excited." Indeed, he started bouncing around happily. "Right or wrong, I'm still the same 'ol me. Now, what should I predict?" She looked from Tifa and then went to stand by Cloud, lifting a hand and cheerfully saying: "Hmm... lets see how compatible Cloud and I are!" Cait laughed, "That'll cost ya. Exactly one date! Here I go!" She smothered a giggle at the very idea of a stuffed mog going on a date - this wasn't precisely the time to crack up over the image of Cait wedged into the Gondola... funny as it was... no, straight face! There was a ding after moments of him waving his arms about in arcane patterns, and then Cait looked at Tifa in a panic and cringed. "This isn't good. I can't say it. Poor Tifa." Poor Tifa? ...does he know and Tifa and me! She blinked, as Tifa blushed and looked away surreptitiously. Oh, so Tifa had been telling people! "No! Tell me! I promise I won't get mad!" Cait lowered the card, then smiled sadly; "Is that so? Then I'll tell you. Looks good. You are perfect for each other! Aeris's star and Cloud's star! They show a great future! Cloud, I'll be your matchmaker, preacher... I'll do whatever you want me to! You just call me when it all happens!" She bit her lip and watched Tifa's expression, which was slightly sad. "Thank you for believing in me, know that I was a spy. This is the final, final farewell!" "Cait," she said in alarm as he hurried off, then with tears streaming, she lifted a hand and whispered, "...be strong, Cait Sith..." "We should go out," Cloud announced, bright red and eyes sparkling, no doubt from that reading Cait had done, "Or we'll be crushed. Hurry!" ...and as one, they hurried to the door, even if Aerith dragged her feet a little behind everyone else... ------------------------------------------- Light. The sound of something softly crying. Air became hot, overheated, contracting into itself. Then in the pit where the temple had been, when the light faded there sat only a single piece of rock that if it weren't for the trained eye, someone would mistake as being a chunk of obsidian, raw and unpolished power trapped within the dark heart of the small materia that could bring an end to everything they knew so easily, so quickly. Carefully, as Tifa stayed by the top to keep watch, she and Cloud descended down and he scooped the materia up, holding the dark glassy object to the sun, disappointed when no light refracted through the murky depths. She smiled at him. "We did it." "And as long as we have it, Sephiroth can't use it." Cloud pulled his hand down, blue eyes still twinkling with excitement travelling to meet hers shyly, like a boy who has discovered what it is to love for the first time, "Can you guys use it?" "Nope," she said and twined her arms about her middle, "One person's power alone won't do. You need a lot of spiritual power to use it. Somewhere special, where there is plenty of the Planet's energy... Oh! The Promised Land!" "The Promised Land! No...but..." Aerith looked at him and shook her head, "No, Sephiroth is different. He's not an Ancient." "He shouldn't be able to find the Promised Land, then." As if summoned, the demons voice rang through the air; "Oh but I have. I'm far superior to the Ancients. I became a traveller of the Lifestream and gained the knowledge and wisdom of the Ancients. And soon, I will create the future." Surprising herself, she pushed Cloud from the way. It was almost like her dream, so alike that she could feel the power inside her curdle with it, growing stronger with each passing moment she stood in confrontation, "The future is not yours alone, I won't let you do it!" she shouted to the sky from the pit where the Temple of Ages once stood. "Ha ha ha... I wonder... wake up!" Wake up? No... Cloud clutched his head and went onto his knees almost instantly. Frightened by this, she looked upwards to see Tifa peering over the pit edge in alarm. Then she looked down and reached over to him as he began to move slowly. The point where he was heading to there stood an image of Sephiroth, tall and handsome in a sinister fashion, with his black clad hand out stretched to take the materia from his unwilling little puppet in a play of souls, a theatre of dead dreams he liked to command. She wanted to stop him, but her tugging did nothing, her voice did not reach his deaf ears. The chink was loud as materia passed hands. I have failed? "...well done," smirked the General, and vanished. Cloud collapsed onto his knees. Shaking, and trying to draw breath, she could see the strain being controlled had placed on him - had he fought hard against those bonds on him? She left her spot to reach his side, touching his back then moving the light touch into a rubbing motion, designed to soothe him. "Cloud, are you alright?" "I gave the Black Materia to... Sephiroth... what... what did I do... tell me Aerith..." She bit her lip. "Cloud... be strong, ok?" - It wasn't your fault. "Urrrrgh, what have I done!" he screamed, rearing back so she tripped over and fell hard onto the ground. Eyes wide, she stared up at him, at his blank eyes, "Cloud, you haven't done anything! It's not your fault!" she tried yelling back. The first blow landed. She was unsure at first if she had been struck, but the pain bloomed fiercely behind her cheekbone, and by the time the next blow struck her cleanly on the temple, mercifully knocking her unconscious, all she could do inside was weep for Cloud... -------------------------------------- He was beating her. He was savaging her. I scaled the walls to Hell to rescue the Angel, but he was like a madman. "What are you doing?" I screeched at him. Possessed by demons, he flailed at the light of our lives, trying to extinguish it. There was blood on the rocks - how badly had she suffered abuse at his hands? Defenceless little flower, wilting gently in the heat of day, suffering cruel attacks and yet still, struggling on, how I admire you, little flower. So he eventually slowed, eyes filling with terror as sanity came back to him. I cried out for her, "What have you done?" And dumbly he repeated, "What have I done?" But as blood trickled from the corner of the mouth I lavished kisses upon, rage replaced my own sanity. Jealousy was the monster inside me, jealousy, hatred, hate, hate, hate. I hated him, for hurting her. I hated him, for loving her. I hated him, for having a star that matched hers. I hated him for being born socially acceptable as a man to love a woman. I hated him so much in that moment, that sanity; a little voice in my head curled up and ran away. Love, the blessing and the curse, the double edged sword was driven deep in my heart and because of love, I knew how to really hate for the first time... and the blow that took his waking moments was hard. It was brutal. It was a rough caress of my foot, the banging pound, the thump of steel into the back of his head. He may have bled. I didn't know. I didn't care. Cradling the body of Aerith who breathed, if only just; I picked up the PHS and screamed for help. Somewhere, the plan to stop Sephiroth, the plan to get the materia, the plan to stop it all, had gone horribly wrong. ...and then I heard it... ...tick... ...tick... ...tick... ...and knew suddenly, time was running out. But... what for?
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