Nightmares of the Soul
A fanfic by Iridal & Kaitou
Prologue: Wounded Souls
We had lain quiet for centuries. Each of us knew the other was there, but it was like a faint glimmer in our subconscious. Every so often, faintly, we could touch one another's minds - we could feel what they felt, and communicate for a brief while. Did we once have names? Each century took more of our memories from us. We drifted through the Lifestream, victims of the evil of Jenova and barely aware of its rampage through the world we were so violently ripped from so long ago.
Every once and awhile, we'd receive flashes of the events of the living world, brief snippets of the clash between good and evil that only served to frustrate us as we could do nothing to effect it in our drifting state of consciousness. But in the end, we'd resign ourselves to the lonely state of drifting and the longing to rejoin the fight against Jenova.
Finally, something shook our world. Everything we knew was turned backwards and inside out...and we were flung back into the world that had killed us.
The time since the defeat of Jenova had passed swiftly, and the companions who had brought about its downfall settled quickly back into the lifestyles they had left behind. Their lives were by no means easy, especially since they were hailed as heroes upon hearing of the final battle with the evil entity and its champion Sephiroth, but it was filled with contentment for each of them.
Each of them...except one. Vincent Valentine.
Life following the battle was not quite so happy for the dark ex-Turk. He had no home or family to return to, no job that he had left to go back to, no newfound love to spend his time with. Being in the presence of his friends Cloud and Tifa only served as a painful reminder of what he had lost due to Jenova.
Lucrecia...
Instead, he had brooded, avoiding his friends and thinking of what might have been. Two long months of soul searching had passed, and Vincent finally decided to lay his love to rest. Though he dismissed the notion of ever finding love again, let alone one as true as hers, he knew that he had to visit Lucrecia once more, if only to gain enough peace to find some happiness in his life.
When Cloud went to check on him the next day, Vincent was gone. He had left as silently as the night, taking only his weapon and materia with him.
Vincent arrived at his beloved's cave at nightfall a few days later. Nothing had changed since when he had last visited - the air still carried the same aura of heartbreaking sadness, the atmosphere still as somber as when he had left.
He knelt before the dais that Lucrecia had been on to give her last gifts to him. With a deep breath, he prepared to pour out his innermost feelings to his one and only love, and he prayed to whatever power above that she might hear it from wherever she may be now.
He talked for about an hour, about anything and everything that had been on his mind for so long. He told her of how he loved her, of how he had fought the monster her son had become for her sake...and of how miserable he had been in the thirty one years since she had chosen to carry another man's child instead of his.
"My love, I can't live in the past any more." He paused. "I still love you, Lucrecia. I don't think there can ever be another. But... I've lived in the past wallowing in my own sorrow for too long...how sad you must have been that I've carried my guilt all this time."
.....Vincent.....find happiness.....
He thought it was just a trick of his ears, but he swore he heard her sweet voice once more. He strained his sensitive ears for a brief moment, then continued. He could not help but think that instead of sharing his feelings, he was asking for her permission. Shaking his head, Vincent gamely went on.
"Lucrecia...I want you to know that since you've found such peace finally, I think it is time that I actually live myself for once, instead of just existing."
Vincent sat a moment longer, simply taking in the last vestiges of his beloved's lingering spirit. He stood to leave, whispering a farewell.
THUD!!!
He definately heard that...there was no mistaking the sound of something crashing to the ground just outside the cave's entrance. The ex-Turk ran out to investigate who, or what, might dare to intrude on him, when he nearly tripped over the fallen object. Vincent knelt to examine it, his eyes widened ever so slightly with surprise.
It was...a woman.
He sat, as he had for the past two months, quietly contemplating his life of the past five years. So much wasted. Time he could have been enjoying the beautiful things in life - friends, love...happiness. He could not ever remember being happy...perhaps, maybe for the small time when he had believed that he was normal. Before it all began. Before Nibelheim. Before JENOVA. He shook his head and slowly pulled himself up, walking toward the small pool of water at the center of his room.
He splashed his face with the clear water, which was purified by the amounts of Mako running through the Northern Crater. When the water stilled, he studied his reflection, for the probably thousandth time. His silver waist-length hair was tied back, as he often wore it now. Without his trenchcoat, the muscles in his broad shoulders were exposed, defined by his years of perfecting the art of war. He studied this picture with his shimmering green eyes. He looked the same as he always had; yet something was different. The past five years had been centered on his desire to control the world. Now, he had accepted himself as human. Sighing, he asked himself, Will I ever find happiness? Will someone ever look at me with...love? Suddenly, a sharp cry and noise from the top of the crater jerked him from his reverie. It sounded like a traveler had gotten into a scuffle with one of the many monsters roaming the Crater.
Donning his trenchcoat and picking up his beloved Masamune, the man known as Sephiroth made his way to help.
He arrived just as the traveler in question drew his sword and swung at the wolves surrounding him. He was swathed in leather clothing and a cape, completely obscuring face and body. However, the numerous bloodstains on the clothes told Sephiroth all he needed to know. Closing his eyes and muttering a spell, he cast Sleep on the wearied and outnumbered combatant. As he fell, the wolves moved in for their kill...but met Masamune instead.
When he had dispatched all of the threats, Sephiroth turned and carefully picked up the warrior. He's so light... He hefted the young man's bag and sword over his back and proceeded back to his home.
Once arrived, he gently placed the traveler on his small pallet of furs and then set down Masamune and the bag. Pausing, he studied the other's broadsword. It was close to four-and-a-half feet in length, and was of tempered steel. The hilt was inset with a single ruby that had the shape of a dragon carved into it. Along the blade itself there were numerous rune symbols, as well as another dragon etched into the blade. This is craftsmanship such as I have never seen... He placed the sword next to Masamune and turned to care for his unexpected guest.
He carefully removed the belt from around the boy's waist, noting with a smile the numerous small throwing knives concealed in the inner part of it. This done, he gently and slightly lifted the body to pull off the cape, which revealed yet another small arsenal. As he lifted one of the smaller daggers away, he noticed the materia glistening in the hilt. Momentarily using his supernatural abilities, he probed the materia to find its use, and was stunned by the sheer enormosity of its power. This is raw materia...and not from around here either... Resuming his task, he began to carefully unwrap the scarf that was wrapped around the face of his guest.
The cloth dropped to the floor. With a sharp intake of breath, Sephiroth realized...this was a woman.
She was clad in mostly dark brown. She wore long brown leather pants that laced up the side, and through the open lacings one could see that her boots went up to just past her knees. On either arm, she had gauntlets of leather, embedded with metal studs that ran up past her elbow and then laced up. She wore a leather vest that also tied up the front, and underneath it, a short tunic-style shirt. Around her waist was a silver-studded belt in which rested a beautiful and lethal-looking dagger. She had well-defined muscles, and obviously was a warrior. With surprise, Sephiroth noted that she had to be at least six feet tall. When he had removed the scarf, her hair had freely tumbled out. It was long, and an auburn color. It had tousled-looking curls, and on either side of her face, there were two thin braids. She was pale, nearly a perfect white, and her closed eyes were fringed by long lashes. Her eyebrows were knitted together in a slightly worried look, even in sleep, as if she expected at any moment, a disaster.
Sephiroth rose, and pulled a blanket over the girl. He then sat by the small bed, waiting for her to wake.
Vincent could not help but stare at the unconscious woman laying on the rocky ground before him. The only way to reach Lucrecia's cave was by Chocobo, and she obviously wasn't here before he arrived...yet how did she get here? He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Whatever did happen, his pondering could wait until he checked to see if she was alright.
It was only until after Vincent had carried her into the shelter of the cave when he could truly examine her. Ever cautious of the possibility of her actually being of an evil bent or perhaps reacting badly to his...unique appearance, he had patted her down for hidden weapons and materia...and was astounded at the sheer number of knives hidden on her person. He had found somewhere around seven - in both her boots, on her belt, one was even hidden up her sleeve and was tied to a catch that would release when she flexed her arm a certain way - and each was equipped with powerful materia.
Seeing that she'd still be out for a little while longer, he sat back to examine his 'intruder.' Vincent had to admit, she was beautiful. She was dressed entirely in black - a black linen shirt covered by a black vest embroidered in purple, black leather pants, and black riding boots. Her long silvery hair was caught in a complex looking plait, with pale curls wisping over her fair brow. Some disturbing stray thought seemed to be passing through her sleeping mind, as her winsome face was marred by a pained frown. He found himself resisting the irrational urge to brush away a stray lock of pale hair to sooth her restless thoughts. Instead, he sat back with Death Penalty close by, content to patiently wait for her to stir.
...Charis...?
...who's there?!?
...Charis! Thank the Gods I'm not alone!!
...Gwynhwyfar? Is that you?
Yes, it is me. What happened to us?
...I don't remember anything except.....oh gods...
The Final battle...
................
JENOVA is to blame for that, not you my friend.
Where are you? I can't see you! Its so...cold...
We are no longer in the Lifestream...that I know. But you are so far from me...
I can feel that. It is like part of me...isn't here.
After having been linked for so long in the timelessness of the Lifestream, the two presences were painfully aware of the absence of the other. In desperation, they reached out to one another, but felt themselves slipping ever further from each other's grasp.
GWYN!!!!
Something's pulling me...pulling me away!
DON'T LEAVE ME! PLEASE!!!
I can't stop it!!
The desperate girl made one last attempt to grab her friend, but missed. They both felt themselves spiraling helplessly to consciousness and the pain associated with it...away from each other.
As much as she struggled to maintain her contact with Charis, Gwyn could feel her awareness slipping more and more into full consciousness. Finally she realized that it was pointless at this time to continue, and focused her attention elsewhere.
She noticed almost immediately that someone was close by, and that someone had stripped her of weapons and materia. However, the presence near her was not evil - the action had only been done out of caution, not out of malice. She could respect that.
Vincent watched as the woman stirred, heralding her returning wakefulness. With a deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes...revealing startling lavender orbs. Her gaze roamed the cave until they settled on the dark form completely wrapped in a cloak a few feet from her.
He frowned thoughtfully. Odd...she doesn't seem the least bid disturbed at my...enhancement. Her eyes held no fear, just a wary sort of curiosity, taking in the blood red eyes, metallic arm, and rather prominent weapon of her rescuer with easy acceptance.
Aloud, he asked, "Are you alright?"
She blinked and raised a hand to rub her temple. "Yes, I'm just fine." Her soft voice had an almost melodic tone to it, though the tone carried a slightly flippant inflection to it. "Where am I, anyway?" The pale haired stranger struggled to sit up, still clutching her head.
Placing his hand on her shoulder, Vincent gently pushed her to lay back down on the pallet. "You shouldn't get up just yet. As for where we are, it is near the village of Nibelheim."
A brief flicker of confusion passed over her face, but was soon hidden. "I see. And what are we doing in a cave?"
"I came here to...say goodbye to someone dear to me."
Her lips curved in a wry smile. "I hope you do not take offense sir, but a cave is not normally a place to be saying ones farewells." He gave a noncommittal sound, so she continued. "Speaking of which sir...what should I call you?"
"Vincent Valentine."
"Valentine..." Something about that word struck a chord within her, but what she couldn't seem to remember...
Hidden beneath the collar of his cloak, Vincent's mouth twisted in wry amusement. "I would prefer to be called Vincent. I am not a holiday."
"Huh? Oh, right..." She mentally shook herself. I can think about that later. "I guess I have you to thank for helping me, Vincent. My name is Gwyn."
"How did you get here, Gwyn? What happened?"
She gave a helpless laugh, as if she was caught in some sort of cosmic joke. "I honestly don't know. I wish I did..." She closed her eyes to gather her thoughts, to search for any clue as to why she and Charis were ripped from the Lifestream. So many memories lost...all I can recall clearly is the last battle with JENOVA... Gwyn's eyes snapped open. "Vincent, when was JENOVA first discovered?"
He frowned. That was an odd question, but perhaps it would lead to some answers. "It was originally found about five centuries ago. She has recently reappeared, but I think we've defeated her."
Though her face still had the same outward calm, her eyes betrayed her shock. "Then I've lost nearly four hundred years..." she whispered.
Her words were barely audible, but his sharp ears caught her musing. His red eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward. "What?!"
Gwyn's voice was sorrowful. "Indeed. Four hundred years." Somehow, she knew she could trust this dark man, no matter how menacing he might look. She took a deep breath. "If what you say is true, I was born over four hundred years ago..." Though I've only actually lived twenty-three of them...
"What is going on?" he asked softly, as if to himself. He looked at the girl. She seemed to be telling him the truth, though he still wanted to get to the bottom of this. But not here. She needed to recover, and she couldn't do that in this cold, damp cave. "No matter. We will discuss it later. For now, we must find some decent shelter...perhaps in Nibelheim."
Vincent carefully helped her rise and exit the cave, assisting her when she had to mount his black Chocobo to ride to town. Gwyn hadn't the faintest idea where this village might be, other than it was nearby. However, a bed sounded good to her, and she needed to find out what had happened while she and her friend were...gone.
...wake up...
Moaning softly, the girl stirred in her sleep. Sephiroth had dozed off slightly, but he awoke at her movement. Just for show, he gently rested one hand on the hilt of Masamune, which was lying across his lap. He studied her again as she woke, noting how she had the instincts of warrior, that even before she fully woke, her hand was on the hilt of her dagger - or where it would have been, had he not removed it. Suddenly, her eyes flew open...and Sephiroth held his breath in shock.
They were Mako eyes. Even in the dark shadows of the room, he could see them. Green, as green as his, and they shimmered and glowed with all the power of the Lifestream - and right now, with fierce anger.
"Who are you? Where am I? What have you done with my weapons?" In anger, she tried to rise, but Sephiroth placed a hand on her shoulder and firmly pushed her back down.
"YOU are in no position to get up. Your weapons are safe. You are in the Northern Crater, far to the north of Icicle Inn and the Gaea Cliffs. As for me..." Sephiroth stood up, his upper body obscured in shadow. "I am Sephiroth." He waited for a response, for her to lash out at him for what he had done. It surprised him when she showed no reaction. He turned, and with a wave of his hand, lit the small sconces on the walls of the room, as well as some candles at the foot of the bed. He then turned back to face the girl. "Now...suppose you tell me who YOU are."
She caught her breath. He was gorgeous. He had unbound his hair, and it flowed freely to his waist, as long as hers. She also saw that their eyes held the same power, and saw behind those eyes the pain of long years of suffering. "My name..." She closed her eyes and thought. "...Charis."
The name brought a memory, a sudden vision of a silver haired girl appeared in front of her. She appeared to be locked in battle - and then a flash of a sword, and a spray of blood as the other girl fell to her knees in a grotesque mockery of prayer...
Sephiroth drew a quick breath as he realized he was seeing into Charis' vision. He also realized that what he was seeing was not good. She had obviously violently killed someone...very violently. He would have to keep on his toes. He cleared his throat. "Perhaps...I should take you to Midgar with me. There are some old friends expecting my visit."
Charis looked at him in a daze, and nodded.
