Sans Seraph While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die. Leonardo Da Vinci --Suggested listening: Death - Edward Scissorhands Soundtrack by Danny Elfman. ------------------------------------ This world is a crazy place. It holds on to you, even when everything is over. What is it that makes such things endure? But purest of all things, sweetest of all agonies, is the love within life itself. Is the knowledge that life is fleeting, that at any given moment, life might be taken away from you. So you cling hard to it, you cling as hard as you can to this life. And when you cling and leave those marks, impressions of yourself, you never fade. In the hearts of loved ones, in the memories they continue to hold dear to them, locked up secret wishes that no one can ever know... why can't they know? I think... you shouldn't keep those things to yourself. Mostly because you might never know when life is over and you’ve missed all your chances. Happiness? That is fleeting too. So like life, grab it by the hand and tug it closer, closer and even then, closer still. That the heart of fire that is happiness, that is life, burns you. You will see things. You will do things. Each one stranger and yet more wonderful than the last, a world of unfolding possibilities... ...so live it. Live it all. Be it all. Be everything that you can be! And I will know, because I am watching over you. One day, you'll see it. You'll understand. I know you will. Ah, but isn't this world such a crazy, crazy place? ------------------------------------ She was a broken puppet with her strings cut. A face marked with slight liquid hints of viridian hue were the grave testimony to the last smile she held on her lips where bloody froth had bubbled and cauterised the skin red in remembrance. The redness mocked the flush of life that would have suffused her, if she were only sleeping and with those eyes closed so peacefully, long lashes touching her cheeks gently, an onlooker would have been forgiven for making that mistake. Her hair was unravelling from the high braided ponytail she wore each day, the pink ribbon had slipped to the floor and highlighted itself against the bloody drag marks left from moving her to the side of the altar. Her pink dress was ruined by the red stain, darkened to brown, but her hands were clasped over her middle. She stood to the side, trying hard to maintain some composure, a shred of dignity. But whatever face she gave the outside world, inside, she was bleeding and dying. Surely as her beloved angel had fallen with that smile, that lovely, lovely smile for her alone, she too was losing every shred of faith left in this world. The light shattering down from the heights onto a city chipped from crystal was cold and no comfort; the lurid glow of the mako suffused water not helping either. So she wrung her hands together and focused on that pain, because that pain was real, that pain was here and now. The faces of the others wore masks of grief, from the openly weeping Yuffie who was hugging Red and soaking his fiery fur with her helpless, heart broken tears - Red wasn't displeased, as he howled mournfully, notes without aim, pressing his shoulder into that of the Ninja girls to try and award her some comfort. Vincent, Cait and Cid were lined to the other side, their faces devoid of anything else except such bitter sadness. To her right was Barrett, the rock of muscle, the brief declaration of sanity she could cling to in this storm of dying. "Aerith..." Cloud whispered. He was stood before her, staring down at her peaceful form with tears openly burning his cheeks in tracks of salt water, spotting his front and curdling in the blood pool that lay still by his steel capped toe. His voice was broken and she knew, despite all her jealousy, Cloud had loved her too. Cloud had lost too. So she couldn't even summon the tiniest shred of apathetic anger, watching him kneel close by her and brush a wayward lock of golden brown hair from her beautiful face. Instead she turned away, cupping a hand to her mouth and trying hard not to weep, narrowing her eyes on the prickle behind her eyelids. What did she do now? "Tifa," grunted the ebon skinned terrorist, but she didn't look at him, focusing away from the scene of the carnage, "I'm so sorry, Tifa. If we'd only known, if she'd only said something." "She never would have," she replied in a frozen voice from numb lips, marvelling at how steady her voice sounded. "You know how Aerith was. She wanted us to be safe... even if it cost her... our future." "But it doesn't take away your pain though, does it?" "No, it doesn't." Tifa closed her eyes, "So don't shower me with clichés, or platitudes. Don't offer me cold comfort, I don't need it." "..." "I...want her back," she choked on the whisper, the tears finding a treacherous way down her cheeks to spill over her fingers and the metal edge of her formidable gauntlets. "I want to be back there... when she sat on the slide, next to Cloud and I was riding away on the cart with the chocobo, to see Don Corneo. I want to be there, so I can say to her; 'You can't come with us, because you'll have to die.' And face never falling in love..." Barrett's hand was a heavy, comforting weight on her shoulder, "Could you have lived without loving her?" "I-if it meant she was alive... yes, oh gods and hells, yes..." "Then you would be willing to give up a lot in turn for her." He smiled and she glanced up at his face, kind despite how fearsome it could be when he was angry. "Isn't that what she did, for you?" She hadn't noticed what Cloud was doing, so when she flicked her eyes across, she was surprised to see that he was carrying her cradled to his chest; the flower girls head lolled without muscle tone to keep it upright and her nose rested on his shoulder. With each step her hair tugged a little more loosely from the binding ribbon. After a moment of watching Tifa realised that he was carrying her out of this place and bent to take the pink ribbon as it fell to the floor. I'll wear this, so I can always keep something of you with me, beyond my memories of you. One by one, they slowly came away from loitering by the pool of sticky blood and up towards the moonlit area just beyond the shell house where they had descended the stairs to the altar, where Aerith had faced the worst few moments of her life. The area was small with a pool of radiant green water by a dip in the bank to lead into that lake which seemed to radiate an air of sanctity about it. It was there that Cloud paused. Tifa tucked the ribbon in next to the small velvet black box and then tilted her head. After a moment of deciding, Cloud stuck his foot into the water and began to step forward. It was upon this motion that alarm bells went off into her head; was he planning on making her grave this watery den, where no light would reach her beautiful face? Hadn't Aerith said her dreams were filled with water? That she was falling, drowning... Horror crept into her cold heart and she clapped hands over her mouth as she opened it to emit a silent scream. Almost months ago, you told me you dreamed of the water. You dreamed of falling into it... you knew... You really knew on some distant level of your soul that if you came here, there was a high possibility you'd die. 'Not Long Now'. That's what you said. That's what you were trying to tell me, only I couldn't hear you. Aerith... don't go! And she was moving too then, her feet splashing in the water as she flung out a hand and grasped Cloud's arm roughly, dragging him back. They both stood to their knees in the water, it was cold and clear, but she ignored the chill creeping up her legs. She stared into his grief stricken blue eyes. "Don't do it, please don't do it - not here." "..." "Please," she pleaded, trying to make him understand, "She dreamed of it, she told me but I didn't know - she knew, Cloud, she knew all along but was too frightened to admit this would happen. Don't let her go down there! Don't do it!" "...Tifa... she has to rest now. We'll do the rest for her." "No," she breathed, "Don't you dare..." "..." with sad eyes he turned and carried on. She tried to hang on but her grip slipped from his arm. Taking several wading steps after him, anger and fear warring in her throat, Cid was suddenly there; a compassionate arm dragging her from the water, to the aid of Vincent's strength as they both fought to keep the fighter from diving headlong at Cloud. She struggled hard against them, pulled back from the watery edge and with this, she flailed like a madwoman. She kicked out, screaming, "NO!" so hard that her vocal chords felt as though they were ripping. And with each step he took, she died a little more inside. He lowered her. ...tick... The water pooled around her face, the smile still there, golden brown hair making a murky halo in the clear water. ... ...tick... ... His hand pressed to his middle to stem the convulsions of his own sobbing. She was weeping, held up only by the two men as she collapsed, watching her angel sink, or perhaps, fly away. ...ti... ---------------------------------------- They battled across the wintry mountains and she felt her own despair keener than any knife. She took pains to hide it, trying to remain cheerful, trying to fill the void Aerith had left in the 'bubbly' side of their misfit group of travellers but never more aware of her own deep loss, rooted in her heart. That they slogged through snow and adverse conditions meant little to her, only that soon they came to a small and sleepy little town in the heart of the snow capped peaks and there, rested a while. Curios and feeling intent about something, she went looking around the town, watching the children throwing snowballs and trying hard not to picture the future of her and Aerith together. Perhaps they would have adopted a child? That would have been good. Aerith would have made such a wonderful mother, making their children aware that the Planet needed to be cared for, taking care of nurturing life whilst she ran the business and kept the love of her life happy and whole. Frozen tears were drying on her cheeks when she stumbled across the small house, holed away to the back of the town and inside there, she sat on a bed that had gathered enough dust for ten centuries to feel proud of. When the sobbing fit had passed, grateful that no one had seen her, she stopped to actually look around the strange room with all the gadgets and components, the telescope pointed to the far northern pole, the beds and the desk, littered with almost crumbling sheets of paper and somewhat worrying bloody patches on the floor close to a device which looked similar to that a video machine. She came over curiously and peered all around it, then about the house into which she called out in a voice still damaged from her wild screaming fit; "Hello?" There was not a single answer, only the quiet dust continuing to pile up with unthreatened patience. Tifa shrugged and turned back to the machine, peering at the small slot and the many buttons which dotted the smooth, metal surface of it. I'm no good with machines, if Jessie were here, this wouldn't be a problem. Ah, I just know I'm going to mess this up! Wincing, and sniffling from both cold and subsiding tears, Tifa prodded at several buttons, peering up at the monitor after twelve or so passes when it flared into life with a slightly fuzzy recording. She could make out a woman and a man, talking together. As she watched, she listened to the woman talk about things that she had heard in many different incarnations before, about Jenova and her crash down landing onto the world, causing a terrible wound that had brought many Cetra together to try and repair it, and the subsequence virus that infected the race as a backlash. The video cut off. Disgruntled, she pressed a few more buttons and was pleased to be rewarded with another video. Chewing on a lock of hair as she watched intently, the woman spoke about things called Weapon and the danger of the Planet. If the Planet sensed great danger that would affect it, then these all powerful beings would be called upon to eradicate the threat from the face of the world. But it would judge what is good and what is bad. Then the woman mentioned that she was pregnant with the scientist's child. There the video cut off again. "What a strange piece of knowledge... an Ancient," Tifa breathed, and then as she was just about to go, something else caught the corner of her eye and she stopped. A pile of discs littered the spot close by the monitor, but the one which had stood out was a pale green jewel case with the lettering on it which read: "Our daughter." "They had a daughter?" Tifa smiled, reaching for the disc and pausing only briefly to wrestle with her guilt. Sure, it wouldn't be good manners to watch someone else’s private moments, but she'd watched this far hadn't she? Besides, curiosity wasn't a bad thing and she was starting to warm to the strange couple who spoke of vast and great things that were beyond her simple life. She pushed the disc onto the tray which popped out and once more, fought over the buttons with eager fingers to cajole life from the machine, sniffing a little. Then the screen came up and she glanced up with dark eyes, stepping back to take in the scene. "Filming, again?" The woman said. In her arms she cradled a bundle that squirmed about a little, a small arm reaching out to which she chuckled. The camera angled and zoomed into the back of her head as the scientist, a man in his thirties with neat brown hair and sparkling eyes but the loveliest smile joined them. "You know I can't resist filming." "Maybe then she'll be a film star." They laughed together, so naturally that Tifa smiled too. Then the camera moved and she could see the baby, a beautiful baby. All babies are without saying, cute to some degree as a natural defence mechanism against the cruel world, but this baby was truly beautiful. She found herself going 'awww' without realising it. Then the man adjusted his glasses. "Aerith the film star, you think so? Why, with her half Cetra heritage, she can be anything." Tifa stopped breathing. "Then I just want her to be happy and healthy, isn't that enough?" The couple looked up and waved to the camera, cajoling the babe into waving. Already tucked about her was a pink swaddling, and in the hair of the mother was tied a bow of ribbon which a similar one now lay in her pouch. But the mother's face - it lacked the beautiful smile of the flower girl, she must have inherited that from her father - but the eyes... Ancient eyes, glowing with green life. Her looks were those of her mysterious origins, Cetra origins and there was no mistaking it. In some far flung town, sleep and forgotten by all but snow, she had found one of the few precious things that Aerith had always wanted to know. "Oh Rissy," she gulped, pressing a hand to her chest as her vision blurred, "You were so loved." ------------------------------------ Days pass. Experiences grow. We, as humans or as Cetra, we evolve. We become better, stronger, faster and sometimes sadly, harder. But these shallow breaths between the world and ourselves, between knowing and doing. Closing your ears to the static sound of life, blocking out the pain with smiles or with tears, pretending like life is charade that you can continue to mime in; you play a part in the vast theatre of life. But when it's time to consider your actions, what will you do then? You faced terror and left, silent, on the wings of despair as seemingly yet another person is taken from you. But I am here with you, so don't be afraid. ------------------------------------- The blond witch tightened the straps that restrained her to the point of pain and she gritted her teeth against the taste of blood that curdled in her mouth from the slap handed out for her 'insolent' stare. She could only recall the meeting in the ShinRa building, long ago it felt like, when they had been looking for Aerith, and this rich bitch had chortled into a hand and fawned all over the president. After all of that, they were pinned with blame once the Weapons had awakened in their crater in the frozen north, long after they had followed Sephiroth up great chasms of ice and down the slopes towards the Great Injury of the Planet which was still trying to heal itself. Even when they had helped them to escape, she was being strapped in here as the first victim of their faceless propaganda effort, left to die. The door clanged shut and she heard the bolts locking. Gas was a horrific way to go, slowly drifting off with nothing but the sound of your own choking to usher you into the life stream. Tifa bent her head and shook it, eyes closing with small marked lines of pain around her eyes. Was this it? Was this everything that she had finally struggled for? Death was her answer, it seemed. Death waited for her. And where death was, there would be Aerith. She smiled a sad little curve of her mouth, poisoned with the cold touch of failure. She was a failure after all of this. Sat on the slide with your pink dress hiked up to show your legs, staring at me with wide green eyes, over the shoulder of a man I once thought I loved, but now only pity and worry for. Capturing my heart so easily and leading me after you, after the gentle voice. Was this your destiny? Did I get in the... way? All those times; sweet times when I held your hand in either your innocence of my affections for you, or with the darkest knowledge of that deadliest attraction. Fun times, with hot chocolate or with the camera or that day where you pushed me into that lake? It was cold, but I laughed. Sad times; holding you when you wept from bad dreams, or told me all about Zack, your first boyfriend who by some strange twist of fate, was the same Zack who had been there on the very night my life had changed. I was in the way, wasn't I? You and Cloud... I was just a sideline attraction. I was just a joke. Did you know the punch line for me? So here it ends, and it's okay... because I loved you. You were my ‘somebody’... and, I'm grateful... for all the time... Tears slid down her cheek and she bit on her lower lip, fighting the sob, knowing that Scarlet would die to hear her sobbing. No crying, there would be none of that. Like her beloved flower girl, she would face the end with her head held high. So she drew her head up and looked up even as the gas filled the chamber. The natural instinct to survive kicked in and so Tifa held her breath even as she heard pounding from the other side of the door - Barrett's voice and then footsteps, abandoning her. After a few minutes where she coughed on the rancid air between helpless little intakes of breath, she lifted her eyes as something betrayed her eyesight - a flash of red. Giving up so soon? Not very heroine-like, is it? "...A-Aerith...?" An almighty detonation filled the air and she was showered with bits of metal. Sound escaped into the small room and she hurriedly struggled free of her constraints and cupped hands over her mouth, peering up through the smoke that was suddenly boiling into the little room. Peeping just behind it was a massive rent in the metal with edges that were cooling from what looked to be some kind of high powered laser attack. She stared at it for a moment, and then as her lungs protested with a heaving cough, she narrowed her eyes and started up and out of the room. Behind her the door clanged open and she glanced back as she hauled herself over the narrow jutting cut in the metal to see two soldiers in ShinRa uniform and Scarlet, sneering up at her in total disgust. Unable to help herself and feeling inexplicably giddy (but that could likely be put down to the gas she had inhaled without meaning to) she pulled on the skin under her left eye and stuck her tongue out, then let go of the cut's edges, to shimmy down the side of the building. She came to a rest by the butt of the giant Junon cannon. Run then... a voice urged her and she smiled. With quickening steps, she broke into a run to the end of the cannon and then, stopped once she reached the wavering end. There was only the massive, roiling sea below her and behind her, she looked to see Scarlet was the only one to have caught up with her, surprising spry and agile in those tottering red heels and tight dress - but up close the unlovely, aging face was marred by an inexplicable hatred for her. Tifa drew herself up and raised one single brow. "Stuck up..." muttered the old hag, moving to slap Tifa's cheek. She almost didn't move quickly enough, half of the hand smacking on her skin to leave a red mark. As the Weapon's Development head drew her hand back with a smirk, Tifa lifted her own hand in turn. "Slapping match?" She sneered. Tifa doubled her fist and punched her on the bridge of her nose. In shock, Scarlet reeled back, clutching her broken nose and wailing in a loud voice. Tifa smirked and then cautiously wiped her hand down on the shiny barmaid skirt she wore, before retrieving the small pouch she normally wore from Scarlet’s waist. A quick press of her fingers assured her that the velvet box was still inside and then she glared down at the hag. "That'll teach you," she muttered, feeling nonsensical for saying it. A rope flapped from nowhere suddenly with a great wind drifting up with it, fluttering her hair. She shaded her eyes, peering up towards the sky ship which hovered high above and the figures of Yuffie, Cait and Barrett waving down to her, urging her to grab the rope. So she took a running dive for it. Her hands missed and slipped, so she winced, and as she was waiting to hit the waves she could have sworn that a pair of cool, soft hands reached over her own and pulled them into holding the rope. She grabbed on, blinking a few times as the world pulled away, but the fresh breeze sifted about her, and Tifa smiled. ---------------------------------- Even when all seems lost, there is hope to go on. Even when all seems dark, there will be something to light your way. Even when love turns to hate, the memory of love will linger on. So in that darkness, I cannot help you at all, so you must do it. His dark heart, the shadows inside of him - I cannot push them aside from where I was, but here, I can show you this much. Once upon a time, in a world not so far away, there was a little boy... that little boy wanted to prove himself to the people he cared for and those that didn't care for him much at all. Because they all expected so much of him, he grew up feeling insecure and often like he was never going to be good enough for anyone. With this in mind, he left his village... ...one day, five years later, he comes home to his village. His best friend, a Soldier with a big sword on his back, tells him that it's alright to just be himself, to be shy and a little worried about how life can often give you lemons. But as he struggles with the idea of telling the girl from her icy throne what he wants to try and tell her, his superior goes mad. It's unexpected and a lot of people die. Afterwards, an evil doctor puts both him and his best friend into an experiment, hidden deep underneath the Mansion house. The best friend remains conscious most of the time, thanks to previous experiments upon him. So he escapes, taking the little boy with him. On the edge of the broken city, he dies saving his friend. The little boys mind is a mess of drugs and deficiencies, so he takes up the sword and part of his best friend's persona. ...and becomes the Cloud Strife I met. But now, you know the truth, don't you? So don't be afraid. I'll guide you both from the Life Stream... because you don't belong here. Take care of him, because he can't take care of himself just yet... and stay smiling... ----------------------------------- --One month later-- She held onto his side, fearing for the worst as he breathed shallowly on the rock ledge, on his hands and knees. Sweat dripped down his knife keen profile and she studied the swathe of pale blond hair. His eyes were unfocused and if she didn't know better, she would say that he was weeping, that he was crying his heart out. She was a violent mess of bruises, cuts and blood - her hair a wild and dusty tangle, her skin bloodlessly pale from exertion. Her limbs wouldn't cease shaking from the loss of energy after such a long fight and deep down, she knew the sound of Holy escaping was louder, stronger and soon it would flood past and push away everything in its way. "Cloud," she said, "We have to go. Come on." He nodded without looking up at her, getting numbly to his feet and swaying towards the ship which Cid was already fixing, bellowing orders to the rest of them as if they were his 'numbskull' crew. She glanced longingly back at the water and the shine coming from it, echoing up the cavern of the pole when she heard her name being called. So turning away from this strange and sacred place still littered with powerful Cetra magic, she hurried onto the Highwind and waited nervously. She stood by the front panels that exposed the world, windows so thick that very little could shatter them. Beside her was Cloud and Red, Yuffie clinging to a panel close by Cait and both Cid and Barrett hanging onto the wheel for grim death. Only Vincent stood still as if the motions of the plane were a troublesome, yet ignorable thing to him. She clung to the railing around the front, noting that Red simply put his back to a raised panel so he would have no need to cling to anything. With a jolt of power, the ship was flung from the vibrant core of life into the very sky and she winced; suddenly everything was white and she was sure her arms were going to pull right out of her sockets. Then, with a curse from behind her as the ship started flashing red lights and honking noises, she heard the tug of mechanical parts and the booster engines flared into life. Slowly the ship righted its self and she opened her eyes, on her knees by the windows. In the great beyond outside, the flood of white and pale green surged towards the town of Midgar, where Meteor had chosen to finally fall. She followed it with awe stricken eyes, the flowing motion of the watery like substance capturing her imagination and her broken heart, still broken, always broken forever more. Without having a need to ask, Cid started to pilot the ship after the flood of light and she wiped an unsteady hand on her chin, the thin dribble of blood from where she'd bashed against the railing. Cloud stood upright beside her. The ship was fast - and with Cid’s skills it took them perhaps half an hour to follow the pathway of light to the city. There Holy was circling underneath the huge chunk of Meteor, but the red energy of destruction seemed to be eating away at the power of Holy, pulling it into itself to be used and reused against the Planet. She shook her head and looked to Red who padded up close by her legs. "It's too late, Holy is having the opposite effect." "What about Midgar!" The stuffed mog squeaked from the back, "All the people, I had them take refuge in the slums... and now..." "It's too late to worry about Midgar, we've got to worry about the Planet." Red snapped back. "Holy," she said softly. What is good for the Planet. What is bad for the Planet. Holy judges this... Bugenhagen, Red's grandfather, had told them this not that long ago. It was when they had been hunting for the reason why Aerith had gone to the City of the Ancients and there they had found the secret she had known about - the secret of the ultimate white magic, Holy and that she was right - only she alone could summon it as Cetra if only in part. But such great magic had cost her life... They'd travelled further, willing themselves onward to complete her quest and more than ever before, Tifa had been certain - it was never about Cloud and Sephiroth, it was never about her pain or Barrett's past, or about ShinRa. It was all about Aerith, the Cetra and the struggle of the Planet to survive. That's all this had been for, and always had been. So... "Holy." Tifa repeated, "Bugenhagen said that the Planet judges what it considers bad for it. That if we were considered bad for the Planet, then it would take us from it too." "Yeah, but not everyone can be bad for it," Cid said, hanging over the steering wheel. She looked back at him with sad, dark eyes. "Aren't we all bad for it? The Planet had only one person left in the whole world who could speak with it, one very special girl. And in its eyes, we, as a race, persecuted her from youth, hunted her in adolescence and later, in early adulthood, let her die." She frowned, hand coming up to touch her scar gently in a rubbing motion, "You say that, yet we are a bad race. What is there left to believe in for the Planet, when we have done such bad things." "You sound like you're going to just stand there and accept it." "Don't get me wrong," she murmured, "I... miss her so much, like losing everything and having only bleakness left. But she wouldn't want me to wish for death! That's not like her... and I'll fight, I'll pray until the last moment, just like she did... but all I'm saying is... if we're judged bad news, then I can understand it, you know?" "..." Tifa turned her dark eyes back to the window as Cloud turned away, covering his face with a hand. "After all, she would understand too. Hey..." did her eyes betray her? She squinted at the tiny sparkle that had just shone across the starboard side and then looked back, surprise etched onto her beautiful face, "...what's that?" Everyone turned to see what she was pointing at, a flicker of light. It was joined by several more, then more, building in crescendo until a song was audible, a song that awed the six senses and more. It flooded the day, the night and the sky as the light bled from the earth, winding its way across the land. "Life Stream," Cloud whispered in awe. Tifa cupped her hands to her mouth. The light kept on, growing and winding its way over the land, over the mountains and through the seas. It kept on coming and coming, each strand the memory of a loved one, the feeling of togetherness and faces upturned the world over in awe at the sudden force rising up from the steam of life, pulsating across the land, filling everything with joy. Then it struck where Holy was fighting the Meteor and surged. It pushed. It denied. A million voices cried out into the night, all seeking to live, all wishing another chance and with that wish, the power of the life stream pushed harder until the Meteor exploded harmlessly in a shower of whispers and light fragments, each one drifting down across the sky like falling stars. Tifa uncovered her eyes after the explosion of light had vanished, tears falling down her cheeks. Around her, everyone just breathed and the ship whirred; the only sounds in the over-awed, dumbstruck silence that afflicted them all. She knew she was crying - hadn't she sworn she'd never cry? But this time, it felt so right to cry. It felt right, ever since she'd let a gentle voice and quiet but loving eyes get under her skin. This world, she thought as she watched the sky, is such a crazy place. I have gone... so far. Zangan would be proud. I think my parents would be proud too, of everything I have tried to accomplish. I might not have always been successful, but I did well enough. I did enough. Now if only you had stayed, instead of having to go, then life would be perfect. But I'll soldier on for you, my flower. I'll find my way without your light to guide me. ...my hero, Aerith. -------------------------------------- In the far depths of forever, a face tilted up in the water towards the showers of light that came down. It was like her dreams, and she heard them speaking as if by her shoulder. Her hair was a net that floated as she did, or maybe she was flying? It didn't really matter, the girl concluded, closing her eyes as her tears of happiness melded with the water, neither one distinguishable from the other. And she smiled.
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