Angelic Memory
Copyrighted to Astian Leslie Hannan. 2004.
Disclaimer: The characters contained within this fanfic, Cetra Reunion, are entirely fictitious and in no way resemble people in real life. All resemblences are entirely coincidental. Square-Enix owns all rights to the characters and locations of Final Fantasy VII. All other characters and locations belong to me.
Author's Notes: Here is the very first chapter of my Final Fantasy VII fanfiction. This is one of my first official attempts at one, and I think that so far it has come out well. I am currently in overhaul mode, editing the original chapters until they are to my liking, before continuing the story into the future. And let me tell you, there is much to expect. Much, much more! Enjoy!
The sun was setting slowly in the west, and in its progress, cast its warm caressing rays across the vista that only a god should behold. A valley, deep in age, set beyond a mystic forest locked by song. An ancient harp's rhyme could stir it to life, and it had been done before within the listening range of Bone Village. Those who had heard it had been sent into a deep slumber whilst the forest had stirred to life.
Now, once again, hard and rough looking men, soiled from the excavations they had been carrying out, were resting, some still with tools in hand, snoring a symphony of fitful rest to the heavens. The forest was awash in afternoon sunlight and swayed to the tune it had recently been played. A man had just passed through here, the Earth Harp he had used to awaken the forest, carelessly cast aside under the bough of a great oak. Afternoon shadows played across the ground, waltzing with the trees. Everything sang of life. Of what had been and of what was to come.
The frail looking, battered old man limped down through the narrow ravine, lined on either side by high cliffs full of glistening, dry coral that reflected the light in a rainbow spectrum that dazzled the mind. The man paid it no heed. Large stalks of rose pearl reached towards the light on either side of the ravine, amidst the cliffs and beyond, in the small clearing set away from the ruins of an ancient city that had not seen life in years. Delicate crystalline branches stretched across the narrow passage, filtering the sunlight through in dappled rays that danced across the rock strewn earth.
The man slowed as he approached the crystal blue lake in the centre of the clearing. Beyond it and reaching half into the water was a large spiraled conch shell with sharp protrusions that looked almost oddly like a staircase that was used in days past. It now lay in a stage of decay and the once strong material was now brittle to the touch. Many holes populated the shells surface and half of the protrusions were snapped off at various intervals. The shell like structure had once served as the great hall for the Ancients – the Cetra, a race of beings who were entrusted with the continuity of the Planet and its good health. Though they had failed.
He shuffled to the waters edge, and removed his sandals. The water upon his bare feet was cold yet refreshing. It almost reminded him of home. He shook his head and focused upon the task at hand. The man knelt beside the water and viewed his reflection, solemnly. A face worn by sun and weather, ravaged by time became clear to him. The changes were irrevocable, contorted beyond regular recognition.
Under a weathered and wrinkled brow, green eyes full of wisdom stared back. His nose was long and fine and rode above lips both thin and cracked. A mat of spindly hair rose from his head, dirty and matted. A monocle made of gold sat before his right eye, linked to a fine golden chain that ran behind his ear and attached to the back of his collar. The lens was missing, and the frame of the object was contorted and didn't even sit straight anymore. The only reason he wore it at all was because it was a gift. A gift, given in love, by his dear wife – Ifalna. Oh, Ifalna. He shook his head, a way to break the painful memory, and set his resolves. He was going to do this, no matter what. He splashed some water onto his face and scrubbed his hand over it a few times, bidding the memories be gone.
The man stood and looked around once before lifting his tattered sleeve to reveal a thick metallic armlet that completely engulfed his thin wrist. Set into the metal at regular intervals were small cavities, circular in shape. He drew a translucent purple orb -- Materia -- from his pocket and gently pushed it into one such cavity. The armlet embraced the Materia warmly and it began to glow and pulsate almost akin to the beat of the man's heart. Satisfied with the result, the man let his arm drop allowing the sleeve to fall back into place. With one more, quick scan of the surroundings, the man nodded and was ready.
With resolves set he stepped into the water and moved out across a rock shelf, towards the seemingly depthless blue beyond. The water was cold against his slender frame, and his clothes were instantly soaked to the waist before he reached his destination. The discomfort seemed worth it though. He assessed the situation and took note of the fact that he would only have 20 minutes to lay claim to his prize, else he would die with it. Bungenhagen, the late astrologist of Cosmo Canyon had left him a letter informing him of where he could collect his prize. And it was most definitely here, beneath the crystal branches of the coral trees lost with the Forgotten City. The Materia in his armlet would allow him to breathe the water as if it were air, but due to the pressure of the depths, the magical orb would only work for twenty minutes, and then lose its power. There would be no time for admiring the beauty of the deep. The man muttered to himself before he took that final, blind step that would begin his decent.
"My beloved daughter, I come for you."
The water closed about him as his broken form began its drop to the depths of the lake. Slowly he began his agonizing decent which was one that had been taken before him, though in death. He released his last breathe and reluctantly took a shallow one of the water, slowly growing to larger, more efficient ones upon the realization of his safety and the reality that he actually could breath underwater. It was a strange sensation, to breathe water through one's nostrils and have it instantly turned to oxygen before it reached the lungs. It was an alien feeling, something that seemed not of this Planet at all.
Finally his feet reached the floor bed of the lake, sending up a small puff of silt in a circular radius around him. Colourful fish scattered at this alien presence, causing a kaleidoscope of colours that engrossed the viewer. The old man shook it off and began his search for his lost daughter. Glimmering coral reflected the sunlight that was able to penetrate the surface of the water, giving the area a dim light that he could barely see by. But with it, he quickly located his prize.
Lying on the sea bed, amidst the swaying reeds, the pale form of a woman rested, arms flung out beside her. Her chestnut hair danced with the reeds, about her slender form. The man knelt before her and took a moment to study her as he brushed a stray thread of hair away from her calm oval face. Her eyes were closed and her expression was one of peace. It was as if she had died of a natural cause, rather than the actual murder that was dealt to her. She had delicate features. A small narrow nose and tiny rosebud lips which were currently pale and drawn. Upon her right wrist was a golden bangle, and her clothing was of complimenting shades of pink. Brown leather boots covered her feet, and boy would they smell when she emerged. She seemed fatigued, but that was to be expected, considering she was dead. A large tear was drawn across her stomach, the material ripped cleanly, as if by a sharp blade. It told the tale of her death in so many unspoken words. The girl had been such an exuberant girl of many wonders. But now…
A frown played across the man's lips as he scooped the weightless woman into his arms and stood. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and pushed off the floor bed with his feet. The change in pressure, within the water, propelled him and his daughter to the surface.
Damn the Shinra and all affiliated with them!
He soon effortlessly broke the surface of the lake and paddled his way to the shore, with his burden in hand. The effort of emerging from the water and stumbling a safe distance from the lake exhausted him and he collapsed beside his daughter. Internally he cried for the girl that he never got to really know. Externally he wheezed, attempting to catch his breath, his tear ducts all dried up from past traumatic experiences. He reaffixed his equipment, returned the Materia to his pocket and knelt over his daughter. His gaze drank her in. Oh, how she had changed. The man took a shuddering breath and made a promise.
"Aeris, my daughter, I will bring you back to me. Just relax and you will return to flesh once more. The one who has taken you away from me will pay dearly. And mark my words! The Shinra will fall, for reducing I, Professor Gast, to a mere old beggar!"
With the finality of the words ringing true throughout the ancient place, he once more scooped his burden up and began the trek back to his transport.