Final Fantasy VII: Awakening

November 28, 2006, 6:22 PM

Now that I've finally gotten the courage to post this finished fanfic here, I'm kind of excited about it. This is shorter than what I usually write, so I apologize for anything that sounds choppy

It's my first completed fanfic ever, and so far only LadyAerith has read it :3 I began it in late August, and after large amounts of devestating family drama and work stress, it's been one of the very few things that's kept me sane. I hope you guys like it...I'm rather self-concious about it xD

Now, without further adieu, here's chapter one! And the title pic was made by LadyAerith!

-o-o-o- One -o-o-o-
New Moon

The sky was black silk, the only light coming from the pale stars glittering in its depths. The air was icy, the frost-sparkling grasses shivering underfoot in the midnight breeze, but Mari Silverwing wasn't cold. Even if she had felt the cold, she would have enjoyed it, just as she used to before Sephiroth betrayed everyone and Meteor took all she had.

Her thick, shin-length red cloak was buckled stiffly over the lower half of her face and covered her arms and chest, and her wide-brimmed red hat was lowered over her eyes with its lone white feather dipping and swaying in the air. Below the shadow of her cloak, two wide white belts were buckled around her slender waist, and the hem of her plain skirt--the same color as her cloak and hat--fell unceremoniously to the ground. The young woman stood just outside the white boughs of the Sleeping Forest, gazing at the sky and the horizon, as was her habit for the last six months. She enjoyed the ethereal solitude and quiet where she could just think and stargaze, and watch for the man she had seen several times in that first month.

He was silent, fluid and confident in movement, his ragged crimson cloak matching her own in that it was buckled up over his chin. He was of pale skin and long-flowing black hair, a great gun glaring from his right hip and something gold glinting all the way from the fingertips of his left hand to the edge of his cloak; Mari thought it to be some kind of gauntlet. His eyes were shadowed by a wide red headband, and he never seemed to be aware of her as he walked through the secluded forest into the Forgotten Capital, even on that first night when his sudden presence startled her right into the branches of one of the trees. He seemed to emanate a shield of calming coolness and power that intrigued her, and long after he would disappear into the blue-lit shadows, she would stare after him, mystified.

Not once had Mari thought of following him, for the strange man didn't appear to be the type who welcomed being followed by a stranger. It slightly irritated her that her walks into the Forest to think and be alone had turned into pulse-quickening waits for the man to show up again, and it irritated her further that she was disappointed when he stopped traveling through her range of vision. Maybe he had seen her, and had decided to choose a different path to avoid her staring eyes. The Forest was a sanctuary to her, but maybe it was to him as well. Mari could not know this for sure on his part, but she wished she could get a closer look at him just once.

Sighing into the warm fabric of her cloak collar, Mari shifted her weight and leaned back against a tree. The Forest let her mind go at ease, melting away her fears and thoughts that had been weighing so heavily on her mind for over two years. She could just let go, feel her muscles relax from their rock-hard tension that she carried every day, and feel relief that her thoughts no longer plagued her. As long as she was under the eaves of the hushed Forest, she felt that nothing could ever touch her again.

Almost three years ago, Mari was twenty years old, living with her parents and four younger siblings in Midgar. It still pained her to remember her three brothers and one sister, whom she had deeply cherished despite all the tantrums and familial spats, and her softly smiling mother and her ruddy-cheeked father. Even now, the memories were beginning to dim; greying visions of the children running and laughing around the kitchen table, with the ever-calm Rhia Silverwing shaking her head and smiling as her husband tromped into the house with muddy boots and soundly kissed her temple. Memories of seventeen-year-old Ran learning how to run the father's well-kept inn and bar, and thirteen-year-old Akio acting completely unlike his elder brother and shirking as much responsibility as he could get by with. Memories of ten-year-old Kin being loud and boisterous and yanking on seven-year-old Kaiya's curly ponytail. There were warm memories, bad memories, memories that registered tears in Mari's eyes or faint laughter in her heart. They were all fading, maybe to help her heal, to completely close off her pain.

Mari had been training in magic, and had left the house after fighting with Akio to go visit her trainer and mentor, old Sheena. Mari didn't even tell the angry boy goodbye, nor did she stop at the inn to have a brief but pleasant chat with her father and Ran. She had managed to kiss her mother on the cheek, ruffle Kin's hair as he tried to trip her, and squeeze little Kaiya's hand before leaving, but it was more out of habit than affection, because she was furious at Akio and just wanted to leave. Little did she know that it was the last time she would ever see them alive again, for she and her family had thought the Holy spell that was traveling toward the dangerously looming Meteor would work perfectly.

But it hadn't, and only caused more destruction, and even the building Mari had been learning in on the outskirts had been affected. Mari had been briefly trapped, lacerations covering her face and arms, but she had managed to heal herself before going to find the old mage who had trained Mari's mother. She had found her dead, crushed under the beams of the collapsed roof, and Mari had gotten herself out of the ruins and ran straight to her home. But it and the inn were no longer there, just haphazard piles of smoking rubble, and searching proved her worst fears; her family had been killed in the chaos.

The next thing she knew, she had been standing in the cemetary, staring down blankly at the freshly turned earth and the line of headstones that coldly bore her family members' names. All but Kaiya's body had been found, and Mari figured that the fragile little girl had been crushed so badly that her remains just couldn't be collected. Her sweet little sister, ground to dust.

Over time, the terrible pain began to be locked away in her aching depths, and Mari began to harden her heart to it. She wanted to be numb, she didn't want to hurt so badly anymore. Six months ago, when Sephiroth was finally destroyed for good, she felt sharp closure that brought back much of the pain that she had tried so hard to keep at bay, and she couldn't bear it. She almost had to start all over again, but she found that each day was beginning to get easier.

But, dim as the memories were becoming, the pain was still there, weighing down Mari day by day, still eating at her. She wished she could have gone to see her father and Ran, and made her peace with Akio instead of storming out like she did. But it was too late, and the Sleeping Forest was the only thing that kept her sane and grounded anymore.

So why had her thoughts, which were supposed to be quieted and soothed in this tranquil place, begun to whirl into gear once again and affix themselves upon the strange, tall man dressed in red and black?

He probably will not come back, Mari thought to herself. And why would he? I would not like to be stared at like a museum piece, either.

For some time, she watched the stars continue in their slow, eternal wheel across the sky. She stifled a yawn and clenched and unclenched her gloved hands, making sure they hadn't gone numb even under her cloak. Besides trying not to feel pain anymore, other feelings had been dulled as well, including the ability to feel mirth or the cold. She thought she might get hypothermia and never notice until it was far too late.

Moving from her spot against the tree with untired eyes and a clear mind, Mari decided to keep walking through the forest instead of trying to sleep. She lived with a kind, middle-aged woman in Kalm Town until the shaky city of Edge was built up outside Midgar's ruins, and they had moved into a house at Edge's southern flank. But Mari loved to travel and couldn't stay in one place long, and she often took days' journeys and begged her hostess not to worry about her. Mari had a strong head and strong muscles, and she held power with the help of the long, white twisted staff that held a small blue globe inside perfectly carved claws at its top. This staff she now pushed herself along with, as though it were a plain walking staff, and quietly moved through the Forest.

"Oh shadow man, where are you?" she softly said, then blushed in annoyance at herself for saying such a thing out loud. For all she knew, the man could be a foe. But she really wanted to know if he was or was not. Either way, she could deal with him. She would deal with him, for then her mind would be a calm emptiness again when she came to the Forest.

A deep-brown tendril of hair escaped from under her hat and fell into her eye, which was as green as summer. She pushed it back and slightly lifted the brim of her hat, peering with keen vision into boughs and past tree trunks. There was nothing and no-one, and now the complete aloneness bothered her a little. And that surprised her, for the solitude had never before affected her this way.

She walked on, gravely alert, until she reached a small, brush-filled clearing. The starlit sky was beautiful even without the glowing face of the moon, but Mari would have preferred to have that extra light on this eve. Sighing through her nose, she decided to take a brief rest, and folded her legs under her and sat in the silvery grass. She laid her staff across her knees, feeling the memory of Sheena in it. The pain nearly came back in an unguarded wave, but Mari quickly shoved it aside and looked away.

And looked right at a pair of black-clad shins.

Mari yelped and sprang to her feet, but her skirt tripped her and she sprawled on her back, her hat just barely clinging to her head and her staff thunking her soundly on the chest. Wheezing and embarrassed for being caught so completely off-guard, she aimed the little globe of the staff at the stranger and gasped as her panic subsided.

It was the shadow man. Gods, but he was beautiful. His eyes were shadowed, but they seemed to be glowing as they gazed nonchalantly at her. His hair was like fine threads of the very night sky, whispering over one eye and tumbling over his shoulders. He was built in almost a lanky way, but there was no lankiness anywhere in his gait, just a smooth, almost frightening grace. He evaluated her just as she did him, and she felt a black bubble of fear rise from her belly into her chest as she realized the great golden thing on his arm looked more like his actual arm than a mere gauntlet.

With his black-gloved flesh hand, the man reached down to Mari without seeming to move any muscles at all. Of course, that was impossible, and Mari inwardly scolded herself for thinking like that. "I've frightened you. Forgive me." The man's voice rolled out from behind his collar with a rich, soft baritone, and Mari almost forgot her spark of anger and further embarrassment at letting her fear show that obviously.

"You just startled me, is all," Mari grumbled, figuring she could attack quickly if the strange man attacked her. But at the same time, as she cautiously accepted his hand with her own, she wondered if she really could attack faster than he could. Somehow, she could tell he was swift and lethal in his actions.

"Hm." She knew the man didn't believe her, and she hesitantly peered into his eyes as she let him gently pull her to her feet. Those eyes, barely seen under the shadow of the headband, were lovely and exotically slanted, almost hypnotizing. Mari quickly let her gaze casually drop, taking in his pale, flawless skin, strong nose, and what she could see of his partially-covered lips. He was dark and he was beautiful in an unworldly way, a way that speared Mari with nervousness and set her stomach fluttering.

"Well..." Mari said, her voice hitching and making her blush even more. "The Forest is big enough for the both of us, so as long as we're no danger to the other, it's all right." She realized she had not let go of the man's hand, and that he didn't seem to mind. "Err, right. I'm very sorry, and I'll be on my way now. I'm sorry if I bothered you or anything." She loosened her hand and tried to turn away, but those eyes was burning into her own.

"You didn't bother me, and there is no need to fear me," the man said, his voice making instinctive little shivers play their way down Mari's spine. "I come here often. You may not always see me walking through. I saw you sit down and I wanted to see if you were all right, but you seem to be, if not a bit unnerved that I so suddenly interrupted your rest."

In the breeze, his hair shifted slightly, uncovering his eye. Starlight glanced upon it, and Mari bristled as she noticed that the iris was as crimson as his headwrap and cloak.

"No, it's perfectly fine, just fine," she fumbled, pretending not to notice his eyes anymore. "I--uhh, I have to--that is to say, my hostess is expecting me home, so I really need to get going. It was nice meeting you, and I'm sorry for being so startled...mister...uhh..."

"Valentine," the man said softly. "Vincent Valentine."

"Ahh, Mister Valentine." She wasn't sure if she wanted this stranger to know her name and possibly find her, but it would be entirely rude if she didn't, and she never liked to be rude. "I'm Mari Silverwing."

The man inclined his head ever so slightly. "Now that we have been properly acquainted, Miss Silverwing, may you have a good night. Maybe we shall run into one another again soon."

"Yeah, you too...maybe...yeah..." Mari was still fumbling for words when the man promptly swirled around and disappeared into the shadows.

-o-o-o-

The air where the girl Mari had been seemed warm, separated from the wintry coldness. Vincent Valentine contemplatively sat where she had in the clearing, wondering at the strange tangible heat. When he blinked, he could still see a flash of her thin, surprised face against the back of his eyelids; her bright-green eyes that peered out suspiciously from under the brim of her hat. When he looked down in the dark water, he could see her. She was a mage, amateur and young, still trying to master the materia in her staff, but she was likely a quick learner. She was fearful and untrusting, with deep pain buried inside but glinting in her eyes. When he pulled her to her feet, he felt strong muscles in her even for her body being built like a pixie, and he couldn't help but wonder where she had come from.

He had seen many lonely travelers in his days and rarely wondered their origin, but this one was different. This one had begun seeking out the Sleeping Forest six months ago, after Sephiroth was finally destroyed for the last time, and during that first month she had eyes only for him. He'd pretended not to take notice at her, but when her brilliant gaze continued to follow him, he was annoyed at her violation of his once-peaceful ventures into the Forest, and he chose a different path that she did not take.

When he saw her again, she was sitting down sharply in the clearing he frequented the most. His first instinct would have been to keep going, but he was concerned for the female traveler's wellfare. What he got for it was the typical response of fear, especially when she saw the color of his eyes. He'd gotten quite used to it and ignored people's reactions, but this time it had made him inwardly sigh in frustration when she walked away as quickly as she could without looking back.

Frustration. Just another emotion he didn't often feel since before he was revived in Hojo's laboratory. But it didn't matter. As much as the girl piqued his atrophied interests in females, there was no logical way he could be involved with another woman again. Not after Lucrecia. His Lucrecia. Not after he'd been made what he was, for who would ever want to be with something like that?

Just another punishment added on to the rest, he thought dully. I am a spirit wandering this Planet, trying to atone for these sins I've committed against it. If only then I could just lay down and pass from this world forever...

Breathing thin clouds of white vapor into the stilled air, Vincent leaned back on his hands and looked up into the empty tree boughs and shivering stars.

Maybe she will come this way again, he found himself thinking, then sat up straight and shook his head in disbelief. Did I really just think that? How odd. He looked back up at the stars again, and almost thankful that he didn't feel the old stirring in his blood that he used to feel whenever he thought of his Lucrecia. He couldn't, he just couldn't. Not while he was what he was: a monster, a vessel of demons and bearer of grotesque modifications.

The stars seemed to wink at him, but they were merely greeted by his cold frown.

November 28, 2006, 6:26 PM

I am sooooo glad you decided to post this!! You all must read this amazing fic!! She is truly a gifted and talented writer. This story will leave you laughing, will leave you in tears and leave you breathless

December 4, 2006, 7:57 PM

-o-o-o- Two -o-o-o-
Unbidden

Mari was more than eager to get inside the house she had called home since the destruction of Midgar. Her gentle hostess, Lia, quickly unlocked the back door and let her into the kitchen, her smooth round face bright and pink with relief that the girl was home safe.

"You're back soon," the woman said, getting the tea kettle down from a cupboard and filling it with water. "You look worried, dear. Sit down and I'll make us some tea."

Mari wanted nothing more than to just go to bed and strip out of her clothes and just lay in bed, thinking things over, but she obeyed Lia's kind orders and plunked herself down at the oaken table. It had to be well after 2:00am, but she couldn't know for sure as there was no clock in the kitchen. She swept off her hat and unbuckled her cloak, letting both fall away and reveal long, wavy brown hair and small shoulders. She didn't bother to pick either item off of the glistening wood floor, but leaned back in her chair and raked her fingers through her chilled hair.

Lia got down two mugs, then turned to look at her charge. "Are you all right?" she asked concernedly. The girl had been so greatly distraught for so long, more so than anyone she knew that had survived the catastrophe. She thought Mari was slowly healing and returning to the happy, spirited girl she could see trapped inside, but these strange walks and travels would be the death of Lia Goodland some day...

Mari glanced up at Lia and offered an encouraging smile. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just tired," she said, and there was no lie in that. Why had her first meeting with the strange man Valentine shaken her so badly?

Lia pursed her lips and pushed her red braid over her shoulder. She was in her modest nightgown, and Mari felt a little guilty for waking her up by showing up before dawn. The girl often stayed out all night, not wanting to wake Lia up, but as there seemed to be no sleep in the woman's eyes, Mari felt that her hostess had stayed awake in waiting. That made her feel even guiltier.

"And you ought to be tired, traveling helter-skelter like you do!" Lia scolded, not unkindly as she moved over to Mari's chair and, in a motherly movement, brushed her hair out of her face and felt her forehead. She did that often, and it always painfully reminded Mari of her mother; this time was no different. "Forget the tea, you just go on to bed and get warm! Your forehead is so cold that I can't tell if you've caught a fever or not!"

Mari couldn't hold back a snicker at Lia's attention. "I don't have a fever, Mother Lia," she said, pushing out of her chair and looking into the woman's careworn grey eyes. "You know I take care of myself when I'm out there. Though not as well as when you take care of me when I'm within your reach, hmm?"

Despite her worry, Lia chuckled, light dancing in her eyes. "You've got that right, girl," she replied, playfully patting Mari's cold cheek. "I can't help but wonder about you sometimes."

Mari delivered a quick smacking kiss to her hostess's leathery cheek, and felt warm inside. "You can wonder about me all you like, Mother Lia," she replied with a grin, "but you're proud of me for traveling. Didn't you always used to travel back in the old days?"

Lia squawked in indignation, and Mari danced out of reach. "The old days!" the woman cried. "Why, what do you think I am? A little old lady?"

"Obviously," Mari smirked, and made a hasty retreat up the stairs as Lia came after her. "Goodnight, Mother Lia!"

Lia stood at the foot of the stairs, watching her charge's back hurry out of sight. She sighed, then chuckled and shook her head. "That girl," she said to herself, hurrying back into the kitchen as the teakettle began to furiously whistle. "Thank the gods she was allowed to live. She's the brightest part of my life."

In her little dark bedroom, Mari stripped naked and flung herself into her unmade bed. It felt so good to be out of her stifling clothing, for even though it was winter, the house was so well heated that she always woke up in the morning sweating if she had season-appropriate clothes on. But Lia never would turn the heating system down, because she feared drafts coming in and making the both of them ill. Ah, Lia, so good to her. They had gotten on almost immediately, and became so close that it seemed only natural for Mari to tack the endearment of 'Mother' onto the woman's given name.

Laying on top of the blankets, Mari closed her eyes to welcome the calm blackness of pre-sleep. But instead of utter blackness, she saw two glowing red eyes gazing cooly at her as though they could see into her soul.

Mari soon found herself returning to the Sleeping Forest, irresistably drawn there by her ache for peace and quiet and her flaming spirit of adventure that could only be quenched by a trip. To her, the Forest was better than any church, its glowing white trees serving as her walls and the deep blue-black sky above her sparkling ceil. She walked, unguided except by her senses and her staff, alone and content to be so. If there was still such a thing as content left on this tormented Planet.

There wasn't anything quite as good as being alone.

Lia didn't like the mage's trips, but neither had Mari's father, and Mari wasn't about to let someone hold her back again. She couldn't possibly live without traveling, having a change of pace, having those dreaded adventures that Montgomery Silverwing was always loathe to think of. Not that she had really had a lot of adventures, but she was skilled in her powers and she loved to see what was awaiting her around the corner or over the hill. Whether by train, by airship, by chocobo, by ship, or on foot, she loved to be able to go wherever she pleased without having to explain herself or have a care in the world.

Besides, the red-eyed man who kept stealing into the shadows of her dreams walked under the eaves of the Forest, and she wanted to see him again. Merely out of sheer curiousity, of course.

Mari quietly moved toward the clearing where the water flowed dark and gentle, little slivers of the inner light of the trees glimmering on its surface. At first she didn't see the figure crouched there, underneath a tree among thick moss, but when she did, she jerked behind a nearby tree as her hand glowed with the copious light of her usual thunder spell. Maybe there would be an adventure tonight.

She cautiously peered around the tree with the skill of a hunter, brilliant eyes focusing on and studying the figure. Well, if it wasn't the red-eyed Vincent Valentine, looking down in the water. He was half-naked, which made Mari's blood stir and her breath quicken in anticipation; she had never chosen to be bedded before, and the sight of the male physique never turned her on as much as it did now.

Gathering the courage to look more boldly, Mari let her eyes trail down the body that she had only seen well-hidden. Wasn't he cold? His pale upper body was cast with a pallid blue glow from the light around him, smooth taut skin stretching over rippling muscle, his right hand's elbow-length buckled glove removed and revealing a battle-scarred hand that was scooping up water and sweeping it over his flesh.

The mage recoiled as her unashamed gaze found his left shoulder and chest, the flesh of which looked like it had been boiled and blistered over; shiny and purple-pink, the flesh was raised in scaly bumps, with numerous pink scars showering his body like remnants of a switchblade attack. The affliction continued down his left arm to the golden gauntlet and down his toned abdomen, where his ribcage jutted out sharply as though it was too big for his frame. His spine was a long row of hard knobs, his upper back slightly humped and purple in color, and a precise dark line running down the vertebrae.

But the worst thing was the center of his chest. A small purple hole, ringed in light red, rested there like an old gunshot wound.

Undead? Mari shrank back as Vincent shifted to his black-clad knees, looking down at the water. His long ebon hair cascaded over his face and down his back like a waterfall. He rested his metallic hand on the soft moss as his normal hand cupped more water and trickled it between his shoulderblades. There was a strange, horrible beauty to his body, a beauty that slowly voided Mari's fear and increased her fascination.

The ample hand stilled in its repeated movement of gently washing Vincent's back, and he went slightly rigid. He must have heard me, Mari thought frantically, breaking out of her fascinated spying and quickly turning away. I'd better get out of here.

She silently walked back the way she'd come, seeking a different route to take through the Forest that would avoid him completely. She hoped he wouldn't discover her and be angry, but she had breached a moment of privacy. Who wouldn't be angry? He probably didn't want anyone seeing those horrible mutations on his body. What is he, anyway?

It was less than two minutes later when she heard a low swoosh behind her, and she had not the time to fling her staff around when a cold metal hand gripped her throat, slamming her back into a tree and pinning her there. Mari swallowed a scream, knowing it would do her no good, and looked up into the deadly glare of flaming crimson eyes.

Vincent's face looked much different than it had mere nights before; he now looked sinister, ready to kill with one swipe. She was suddenly so weak that she couldn't even summon magic from the materia permanately buried in her arms, couldn't even gather her thoughts enough to throw out the simplest of her spells. She remained transfixed, unmoving, trying not to wince from that explosive glare.

"Err...good evening?" she offered tepidly.

The metal hand around her throat tightened, careful not to choke her even in his silent anger. "What do you think you're doing, mage Silverwing?" he demanded, his voice like burned velvet. He opened his mouth again, but nothing else came out. He was fully dressed, his hair damp and wild-smelling around his shoulders. The air around them seemed to grow dark as though the trees' light could no longer hold the night back.

Mari began to stammer, which inwardly angered her for sounding so afraid. "I-Iwas just walking through the w-woods...I saw you a-and I turned away, I didn't want t-to interrupt--"

The hand slowly tightened even more, and Vincent brought his face close to hers. "It took you quite a while to turn away, mage," he growled; Mari shuddered. "Is your interest that morbid?"

"N-no," Mari began, but the strange man wasn't finished.

"Do I look inhuman to you? Do these mutilations frighten you?" he continued, his voice deepening in anger.

Mari knew all she could do was tell him the truth, whether he believed it or not. "No," she said softly, forcing herself to keep gazing into his hot eyes. No, the things on his body didn't frighten her, but he himself was quite fearful.

Vincent's drawn brows suddenly relaxed, the rest of his face following as though he was absolutely stunned. The almost-hurt fury slipped from his eyes as his hand did the same from Mari's throat. "Then why," he asked, his voice subdued, "were you staring at me?"

Mari felt herself blushing as she slowly moved away from him, her eyes now on the ground. "I couldn't help it," she murmured. "You...you're...attractive."

Seeming to stun him further, the mage took it as her opportunity to slip away. "Good night, Mister Valentine." And she strode away to finish her walk, doing everything in her power to not look over her shoulder at him as he watched her leave. But she did anyway, and a bright streak of embarrassed pink had washed over his cheeks, hued lavender in the eerie light.

Dead men don't blush, she thought, and neither of them saw the strange, horselike form disappear into the shadows.

December 8, 2006, 6:10 PM

-o-o-o- Three -o-o-o-
Reminders

Edge did not appeal to Mari, and it hadn't since it was created. She hated even thinking about the place, because it had been built as almost a memorial to Midgar and that was where she lost her family. And it had been so much more beautiful, so much happier and peaceful, before Meteorfall. She obliged Lia by going on errands there for her, but Mari didn't enjoy it and dreaded feeling the cold memories gripping her like skeletons' fingers. She'd have rather gone to Kalm Town on her errands any day.

The people there made the most of it and went on about their lives as they always had, and Mari tried to blend in with them as much as she could whenever she was there against her will. An overhanging sense of sadness kept weighing on the people's cheerfulness; it was enough to drive her mad. She didn't like it, and she didn't like that it didn't make her feel any better inside, but instead made her feel like a small but potent weight was sitting in the bottom of her stomach.

Mari preferred to travel further, especially to Gongaga, which had more interesting shops and less gloom. She was never satisfied until her legs stopped carrying her on their own accord, especially if it was as far away from Midgar's ruins as she could manage, though she had been that way long before her family was killed. Her soul longed for change, for new sights and sounds; a trait she had inherited from her mother. Rhia had dreamed of travel and never settling down, up until she met sensible Montgomery Silverwing, who didn't have a fire built underneath him and was perfectly happy staying in one place.

Not fun, Mari now thought with a frown, rebellious even still. She wished her mother could have traveled and had adventures like she'd always yearned to, and she darkly vowed to herself that she would do her mother's memory proud. Montgomery had never wanted Mari to travel alone, and even when she had a companion or two, it still could not be far or for long. That didn't ease Mari's insatiable itch, and it led to fiery arguments between the two. The no-nonsense, practical Montgomery, thick mustache twitching in anger and green eyes flashing at the spirited girl's meanderings. It was a sight that Mari actually missed.

She missed everything, even the fights and the hard times. At least she still had her family during those times, which had been better than they were now when they were nothing but fading memories.

Drawing the collar of her cloak closer around her mouth and nose, Mari unheedingly splashed through muddy puddles and dirtied the freshly-fallen snow that lay in miniature drifts everywhere. She didn't carry her staff today, because she didn't want to draw attention to herself. Attention, she thought, was the last thing she needed. It was fine to her that many people thought her to be an aloof, slim boy with dull forest-green eyes under the brim of that hat on those days that she wore pants and clunky boots, for it didn't matter to her. She didn't want to be acquainted with anyone, and she didn't want to get close to anyone. She had closed her heart to that with an iron gate two years before when her family and friends were taken from her; she never intended on opening it or her mind again.

It was bad enough she had left herself so vulnerable while watching Vincent Valentine bathing, his own self vulnerable to her prying, all kinds of thoughts racing through her. Never again.

She looked down and kicked a frosty stone with the toe of her mudstained boot. What a gloomy place. I feel grey here. Eager to kill off those thoughts and finish her errand sooner, she started walking faster. Nobody looked at her, and she looked at nobody. That was how she wanted it to be. Don't make friends, don't give your heart to anyone, and you won't ever get hurt again.

It was almost a mantra to her. Nodding slightly at how good that sounded to her, she reached back and unpinned her long hair, letting it spill out in red-tinted waves over her shoulders to catch on the bitter breeze and keep the back of her neck warm. "Antisocial," Lia often called her. "These outings amongst people will do you good. You can't become a hermit." Almost twenty-three years old, and Mari was still being ordered around as though by her father. She almost let out a broken laugh at the very thought, but silenced herself before it escaped. A small lump rose in her throat.

Her hands tightened in her leather gloves when she heard the sudden, tinkling sound of children's laughter. Bursts of memory punched her behind her eyelids, scenes of Kaiya and Kin running around the bar playing tag while Montgomery and Ran tried to clean it up after closing. No. Don't think. Don't remember.

Mari kept her eyes on the ground. Splotches of white and grey and brown passed abstractly beneath her, and as the laughter drew nearer, she began to skirt around it. She steeled herself, muscles coiling back like metal springs as though she was preparing her entire body to be struck.

"Hey!"

Female giggling dissolved the exclamation, but Mari ignored it. She was passing the children, and she heard their pattering footsteps thump back and forth behind her in play. A small explosion of laughter again, and then something soft and cold hit Mari right between the shoulderblades.

She froze, irate, and heard a gasp and a softly uttered rebuke. Mari forced herself to turn around, and there stood two children, a boy and a girl around the age of nine, sheepishly looking up at her.

"I'm sorry," the boy said, twisting his mouth up as his blue eyes gave her an honest look of worry from under his thatch of dirty-blonde hair. "I meant to hit Marlene with that snowball. That's my friend here." He motioned toward his obsidian-haired companion. "She moved too fast and so I accidentally hit you."

The girl narrowed her eyes, which were as dark as her hair, and glared at the boy. "Don't blame it on me!" she huffed.

Mari nodded in understanding. "Don't worry about it, it was just snow," she said, and turned away, trying to leave them behind her as quickly as possible.

"Hey...don't go!" the young girl cried, running after her. This just isn't going to be my day, is it? Mari thought with a sigh, casting a helpless look to the low grey heavens. She turned again as the girl caught up to her, a bright smile beaming on her flushed face.

"I thought you were a boy for a minute," she said with a giggle. "But you're not. I don't think I've seen you here before. My name's Marlene and that weird boy back there is Denzel. We live together in Tifa and Cloud's house. Well, I'm only there while my dad is on his journeys. Who are you?"

Trying to take in the girl's fast-paced talk, Mari forced herself to oblige the girl for a minute or two. After all, she despised being rude to anyone. "I'm Mari. I actually used to live in Midgar, before the Meteor came." Surprise laced her voice. "And do you mean Tifa Lockhart, the owner of the Seventh Heaven bar?" That bar had been in close competition with the Silverwings' bar, and Mari's father had never accepted the fact that a young girl could run a bar just as well--if not better--than he could. Mari had learned of Tifa's return and the rebuilding of Seventh Heaven, but she hadn't been there as though to preserve her close-minded father's memory.

There was no doubt that the girl Marlene was quite proud to confirm Mari's question. "Yep! She and Cloud are my friends and they take care of me and Denzel like we were their own kids." She twirled once on the toes of her white boot. "Denzel's an orphan. He's pretty cool, but he can be really annoying."

Despite herself, Mari slowly crouched down in the snow, offering a conspirator's grin. "You know, I used to have a sister who would be about your age right now. I had three brothers, too, so I know how annoying boys can be."

"HA!" Marlene crowed, and pointed back at the boy. "Even she thinks boys are annoying, Denzel!" She turned back to face Mari again, and despite the grey gloom all around, this girl was like a breath of high summer. "Had?" she asked. "What happened to them?" When Mari only gazed at her, the girl's face fell. "Oh. I'm really sorry."

The boy strode over now, no longer worried that Mari was angry with him, and stood beside his companion. "They died?" he asked with a frown. "In the Meteorfall, or from geostigma?"

"Denzel!" Marlene rebuked, and Mari realized that was what she had heard when the snowball had hit her. "Ugh, you need some manners." Disgusted, she crossed her arms over her chest. The action reminded Mari so blatantly of firey little Kaiya that she felt the iron gate around her heart being bashed to pieces. "Don't mind him, Mari."

Mari chuckled softly and winked at Denzel, though his question had stirred up even more memories that made her just want to cry. "Okay, you guys," she said as cheerfully as she could manage, and stood up. Suddenly she wasn't as begrudging of her errand as she had been. "It was great to meet you both, but I'm on a mission and I really must get going."

Both children's eyes went wide and they exchanged identical, open-mouth glances. "A mission?" Denzel whispered in awe.

Mari tipped her hat. "Yes, to find the finest winter-growing herb on the continent. I need it fast, too! Do either of you know where I can find it?" She knew exactly where it could be bought in Edge, but she decided to humor the children a little more.

Marlene giggled, and Denzel scoffed. "Oh, they need to send you on harder missions. Those herbs can be found in Metra's shop, which is right down the street!" He pointed down the road in earnest.

Mari nodded gravely, her eyes following the direction his finger was pointing in. "You're a wise one, Denzel," she said, and lowered her hat over her forehead again. "Thank you! Now, I'll be on my way." With an exaggerated saunter, she took off.

Marlene galloped sideways to keep in stride with Mari as she walked with long steps down the snow-scattered street. "When will you come this way again?" she asked hopefully. "You're really nice, and not like normal strangers at all. You'd like Tifa, and Tifa would like you."

The young woman didn't pause, but looked down at Marlene and managed another grin--this time, it didn't seem so hard to do. If only they knew the things her father would curse whenever Tifa's bar received more customers..."I'm sure we would like each other, and I can come this way again tomorrow if you and Denzel will be here. I'm not normal, period, miss Marlene." With a wave, she walked on, leaving the girl standing back with her own grin.

Denzel ran up to her, put out that he was left behind again. "Marlene, she's a mage, I just know it!" he said quietly, hardly able to contain his excitement. "I've never seen one before, at least I don't think so! Come on, we've gotta tell Cloud and Tifa! They'll love this!" Whooping, he grabbed Marlene's hand and they disappeared down the street in the opposite direction that Mari had gone, and didn't even notice the shadow of a friend of theirs watching from nearby.

-o-o-o-

Children. So full of life and carefreeness no matter what bad happened to them. Marlene and Denzel were the picture of survival and hope.

Vincent moved out of the shadows between two buildings and continued on his way through Edge. So, it was that strange woman yet again. Mari Silverwing, sans the white staff with its azure orb. The two children, normally wary of strangers, were immediately drawn to her, just as he had been. What was it about this Mari woman that was so intriguing? Was it the fact that the air around her practically screamed that she held power, or was it that she seemed concerned about keeping herself hidden and away from everyone? Vincent could emphasize with both.

He pulled his razor-thin cellphone out and flipped it open. When he calculated there had been enough time to allow the children to reach the house, he called Tifa's phone to ask if they had gotten in safely. Tifa seemed gently amused by his concern and told him they were just fine, and would he like to drop in for a few minutes? Vincent politely declined, and though he didn't say it, he was still not one for socializing, even with his friends.

And neither was this Mari. How many times was he going to see her and wonder about her? There was something about her that deeply interested him, even though she had spied on a private moment of his. He was curious, and he suddenly decided to pay a brief visit to Tifa and Cloud after all.

December 12, 2006, 5:48 PM

-o-o-o- Four -o-o-o-
Sacred Flowers

Tifa and Cloud mused that there were mages scattered here and there on the continent, and the existance of one in Edge was really no big surprise. Tifa recalled that there had been only one trainer who had settled there before the crisis, and that was old Sheena, who had been quite a powerful mage, but couldn't prevent her own death when Meteor finally hit.

Vincent sat in the bar's kitchen, idly sipping scalding black tea, as Denzel eagerly told them about the young mage in hopes that he could help solve whatever great puzzle the boy thought was being pieced together. Marlene was jabbering on about the woman and how much they liked each other, and that Mari said she would definitely see she and Denzel again. "She knew who you were, Tifa," the girl said happily, then pulled a starry-eyed sort of awed expression. "She was like, 'Tifa? Tifa Lockhart, owner of the Seventh Heaven bar?' and I said yes!"

Cloud, leaning back with his elbows on the kitchen counter, smirked and poked Tifa in the ribs. "You're popular."

Tifa grinned and rolled her dark eyes at him. "Well, just be careful around anybody you don't know well," she said seriously, eyeing Marlene and then Denzel. "Anybody can say who they are and they might not really be."

"If it helps any, she is is most definitely a mage," Vincent said, picking up his mug of tea again. "I ran across her walking around the Sleeping Forest." He intentionally left out the night of Mari coming upon him during his bathing. "She carried a white staff, but she is not that experienced, for she would have reacted more than just sprawling backwards in fear."

Denzel chuckled. "That's because you're just scary as hell," he replied, then uttered a subdued "OW!" as Tifa's hand cuffed him on the back of the head. Vincent smirked behind the rim of the mug.

"Her name is Mari Silverwing," the boy said, ruefully rubbing the back of his head.

Tifa stared at him. "It can't be...can it?" She suddenly let out an abrupt laugh. "If it's Monty's daughter, I'm going to have a heart attack."

The children eyed her curiously. "Who?"

"Montgomery Silverwing, owner of the Cloud Nine bar and inn," Tifa replied, shaking her head in disbelief. "He was always so jealous that Seventh Heaven got more people, but what can I say? The service has always been better here. He and his family were the only Silverwings left, as far as I know, but I thought they all died in the Meteorfall."

"Well, she did say her brothers and sister were killed," Denzel mused, "but Marlene wouldn't let me ask how they died."

"And she wears a red cloak almost just like yours!" Marlene said, ignoring the boy and throwing her thin arms around Vincent's neck and almost upsetting his tea. "Isn't that weird? I even thought she was a boy at first until I had a better look at her eyes and her hair." Just as quickly as she had latched on, the girl let go and stood beside Vincent, putting her hands on her hips. "She even said boys are annoying, so there!"

Tifa let out a musical laugh, and Cloud grinned and pushed himself away from the counters. "Is that so?" he said, mock-dangerously. "And do you agree with this red mage?"

"Of course I do!" Marlene retorted, sticking her pink tongue out at him.

Cloud grinned, his blue eyes narrowed playfully. "Well, Marlene, I'll show you just how annoying we boys can be! Hold her, Vincent!"

"Hm. Big mistake, Marlene," Vincent remarked, grabbing the girl by the elbows before she could dart away. Sitting quite still, he held her in place as Cloud mercilessly tickled her. The large kitchen was filled with her laughter, and Cloud couldn't help himself from joining in. Denzel pounced on Cloud, pounding his back with his fists.

"Hey, I think she deserves it, but you aren't playing fair!" he exclaimed. "Two men against one girl!"

"He has a point," Vincent said, and let go of Marlene. Shrieking, she sprinted out through the closed bar, with Cloud close behind her. Denzel raced after them, and even Tifa met Cloud in a flying tackle. The four of them rolled around in a laughing tangle, and Vincent looked on while slightly shaking his head at their antics.

One can tell the world is healing when Cloud Strife laughs, he thought.

-o-o-o-

Socializing with children hadn't been too bad. It hadn't been extraordinarily painful, and it hadn't taken all her energy from her. She actually liked it. Mari quickly ate lunch, wondering if it would be even easier to speak with the two fascinating children this time. Lia watched her from the other side of the table, one thin grey brow arched, and considered her until Mari got up and placed her bowl in the dishwasher.

"What's gotten into you?" Lia asked, pivoting in her chair to look at her. "Going on another one of your trips? Why didn't you tell me? I swear..." Her eyes were as accusatory as her voice as Mari hastily donned her cloak.

"No, Mother Lia," Mari assured her, with the smallest bite sharpening her words. "I'm just going into Edge for a while. After all, you said it would be good for me." She shrugged and started out the back door.

"Yeah, but since when have you ever listened to me about that?" Lia remarked, but Mari had clapped her crimson hat on and answered by softly clicking the door shut behind her. Lia shook her head and sighed, folding her hands on the table. Gods know if I'll ever figure that girl out, she thought.

The weather was the same as before, cloudy with weak snowflakes drifting reluctantly down. Mari ignored it and quickly walked through Edge, not liking the fact that she didn't have her light staff with her yet again, even though she held materia power in her flesh. The snow began to quicken as she quickened her steps, and an icy blast of air made her eyes tear up. She stepped through a mud puddle and splashed it all the way up her pants leg, the wetness seeping through and shocking the skin underneath. She hoped the two kids would be out like they'd been the day before, or she was going to be pissed.

She took the same path as she took before, as though heading back to Metra's herb shop. Her keen eyes, peering between her hat and cloak collar, kept a sharp lookout for the mischeivous-looking boy and the summer-faced girl among the dozens of people filtering in and out doors and walking by on their business. At last, she discovered Marlene and Denzel playing a spirited game of tag around the herb shop itself, until Metra, the wizened shop owner, barreled out and shouted warnings at the pair.

Denzel skulked away, but Marlene tossed her nose into the air when she followed him. Mari approached them, and said with sudden amusement: "I wouldn't become enemies with Metra if I were you. He's been known to hang kids by their toes from the ceiling and flog them."

The children stopped together, and their respective guilty and haughty looks melted from them when they saw the mage. "Mari!" Marlene cried. "You came back, like you said!"

"Of course I did," Mari replied, sweeping her hat off her head and bowing. "When Mari Silverwing says she's going to do something, then she does it!"

Denzel grinned and nudged Marlene in the ribs. "Oh!" the girl said, remembering something. "We wanted to show you the old church where flowers grow all year round, even in winter! It's in Midgar!"

"They're awesome," Denzel said. "Have you ever been in the church?"

Mari unknowingly smiled, remembering the huge, beautiful cathedral with its towering spires and magnificent stained-glass windows. A girl had grown sweet yellow and white lilies there and had sold them for only one gil each, wandering around the Sector 5 slums with a cheerful smile always on her face. Mari visited her often, seeking advice and solace from her whenever there was trouble at home, and had bought flowers from her once before to take to Rhia when she was ill. Montgomery would have killed Mari if he'd had any idea that she was walking about the slums. What was the girl's name again? She had been so sweet and friendly, like a spring breeze even on the darkest and coldest of days. Aerith Gainsborough, that's who she was. These memories are fading so fast...it's my own doing that they are...

"I have indeed been there," she replied. "A long time ago. The flowers are still growing, huh?" When the children nodded their heads, Mari gazed past them, remembering. "Is Aerith still around?"

Denzel opened his mouth but didn't speak, and it appeared that he didn't know who Aerith was. But Marlene gasped. "You knew Aerith? I barely remember her!" she said in awe, then her shoulders drooped. "He killed her. She went into the Lifestream, but her spirit helped to defeat him."

A small warning stabbed at Mari's heart before she quickly put up the iron gate again; she hated it when she was caught unawares. "Who killed her?" she asked, though she already knew. Who else could kill such an innocent, beautiful creature?

"Sephiroth," Marlene sighed. "And now her flowers grow all year round, and Tifa says they're sacred. Cloud was in love with Aerith, and Cloud couldn't save her. He blamed himself for it for two whole years, but he's a lot better now."

"Oh." Mari sighed as well, though she was numb against the pain the thought of romantic tragedy brought her. The two children urged her to follow them, and she had to practically run to keep up as they raced through the barren landscape into the ruins of Midgar. She hated being there, she hated the horrible clenching of her heart and pain that was so great that it made her stomach sick. They finally came to the old greyed church, and Mari sucked in a breath when she saw how damaged it was. It looked like someone had dropped a bomb through it, and the memories of the pain and terror breathed their presence inside her head. She shook them away and removed her hat as Marlene and Denzel slowed their pace, quietly walking into the open maw that was the front doors.

Everything was silent here, the air thick and charged with a gentle energy. Many of the beautiful stained glass was still intact, and the smoothly-polished pews whispered countless memories of happy and solemn services from years past. The gaping hole in the ceiling let the dim light beam in, dust particles dancing with the snowflakes, and the light touched upon a circular plot of strong lillies growing where the altar used to be. The floor was soggy and smelled musty, as though it had been flooded; there was a small stream of shimmering water running around the flowers. But it wasn't ordinary water, it was Lifestream water. The power inside Mari strengthened and began to flourish within the sacred energy around her, and it was so good to feel it. She felt like dropping to her knees in reverence, both to the higher powers and to Aerith's precious spirit, but she remained standing.

"I love it here," Marlene said, after taking a long breath. "But see? The flowers still grow in the memory of Aerith. Snow's coming in, but they just don't die. I don't think they ever will. You pick one, and two grow back in its place. And that water is the Lifestream. Aerith's spirit flooded this place with it one time and it's still here, kinda, in the Lifestream water. It healed Denzel's geostigma and everyone else's, too."

"I see." Mari walked closer to the flowers, and their sweet scent overpowered her with a heady kind of warmth. She could almost see Aerith quietly bending there, checking carefully for weeds and speaking a kind word or two to the vulnerable blooms.

"Mari?" Denzel hesitantly sat down on a pew. "Are you a mage?"

The woman broke out of the magic before her, and looked over at the curious boy. She held out her gloved hand, and a lavender ball of light appeared in her palm. With just a breath, a miniature unicorn formed from the light and galloped in place, tendrils of sunny yellow drifting around it and from the wake of its cloven hooves.

"Yes, I'm a mage," Mari said with a small smile, releasing the unicorn into the air. It lunged upward, forelegs tucked neatly at its chest, then leaped down and landed on Denzel's head. He gasped and ducked as the unicorn dissolved into a purple mist and disappeared, but he suddenly sat straight up with a surprised gleam in his eyes.

"How'd you know I have a cold?" he asked quietly.

"'Had' is a better word for it, Denzel. I'm trained to know when someone's sick," Mari replied, lowering her hand. "I am a mage, after all. I can heal much and I can absorb the powers of the elements to help others."

Sudden, soft footsteps alerted Mari, and she whirled to the lillies, half-expecting Aerith's spirit to have appeared there. Instead, there was a tall woman wearing black, with silky brown hair and dark eyes. She looked warily at Mari, then at the children.

"Tifa!" Denzel shouted, leaping to his feet and running to her. "It's Mari, the mage! You know how I had that bad cold coming on? She healed me!"

Marlene hopped up and down on the spot before running to the other woman as well. "And he forgot to say 'thank you', too!" she declared.

Denzel scowled at her, then looked back at Mari with a grin. "Thanks!"

Mari chuckled. "No problem at all, Denzel."

Her fighter's body relaxing a little, Tifa walked toward Mari and greeted her. "So you're Mari Silverwing? Old Monty's daughter?" she asked with a friendly laugh. "Nice to meet you. The kids have been going on and on about you. I'm Tifa Lockhart."