Oerba – where it all began, and with their l'Cie brands counting down the days to their demise, was all but certain to end.

Lightning and the rest of the group had unanimously decided to scout ahead, clearing the surrounding pathways in preparation for the long night that faced them. Lightning placed her gloved hand upon Fang's shoulder as the party headed forward, her expression vaguely unreadable as she glanced back at the older woman.

"Vanille, Fang – you two, stay here," she ordered, her usual distant demeanor slightly softened, "search for a place to camp out for the night."

Lightning briefly paused, as though taking specific consideration in deciding on the appropriate words. After a brief moment, she opened her lips to speak once more, somewhat hesitant in her actions.

"It may not be the home you remember, but… it's still your home."

Fang nodded understandingly, appreciating the sentiment, yet failing to have gained any particular comfort from such an observation. Though, it wasn't as if Lightning was known for her empathy skills – even in her struggle to recognize her own emotions back in Palumpolum, she had required a nudge from Fang to push her in the right direction.

Fang almost laughed at the memory, realizing just how long ago those events felt, despite having occurred just days ago. She wasn't quite sure exactly what she had expected upon arrival to Oerba, and despite having familiarized herself with a faint remembrance of its inevitable collapse, was still taken aback by its isolated ruins. Fragments of the village's former identity nevertheless remained – the school, fountains, statues, and even some of the flowers still bloomed – but the life within them had been reduced to mere remnants of its past splendor.

Eventually, Vanille and Fang stumbled across a residence that seemed to have taken only minimal damage throughout the years that had long passed since their departure. A few faded photographs still clung to the walls' interior, as though to preserve the forgotten memories that the pendulums of time had so tirelessly striven to erase. Two bunk beds, typical of most Oerbas dwellings, were placed in the far right corner of the home, presenting themselves a decent enough place to rest for the night – at least, compared to the hard ground of Pulse she had grown accustomed to throughout their adventure. With a heavy sigh, Fang allowed her body to fall limp against the mattress, with Vanille instinctively crawling beside her.

---

As much as she would detest outwardly admitting to such childish indulgences, Fang secretly found herself utterly and entirely enticed by the fairytales fabricated through the village walls; walls that were now inevitably crumbling to dust, just as her memories of the days of her naive innocence.

One of the more temperamental of the village elders, when not scolding Fang for her "utter lack of upbringing and discipline," often spoke stories of the evil witches lurking within the tower outside their village. Fang would inescapably listen with morbid curiosity to the stories of this evil being's mere existence, threatening to strike down any curious child who dared to venture outside the safety of the village, petrifying them with but a single gaze into her deadly eyes.

Vanille – a child at the time, and perhaps more justified in her fearful reaction – would shudder at such fictitious recounts, hurriedly cowering behind her friend, as the elder shook her head and warned Fang to mind her manners next time.

"Listen," spoke Fang, with a stern sense of concern in her words. After a particularly grueling scolding from the village elder, the flowers resting under the early spring morning's gaze seemed to almost wilt under Vanille's melancholic expression, and Fang couldn't help but to feel infected by the contagiously tainted atmosphere that clung to the cool breeze.

"Don't you dare go listening to that old bat's ramblings," she muttered, her hands characteristically rested upon her hips in annoyance, "if some evil witch goes tryin' to hurt even just one of your pigtails, you can bet I'd be there right behind you to blind her before she even got the chance."

Vanille's eyes seemed to lighten just a bit at the promise, as she placed a hand up against her lips to suppress a quiet giggle. Fang paused for a moment, lazily stretching her arms against the back of her neck, seemingly lost in a lingering thought. She suddenly grabbed hold of Vanille's trembling hands, her own face noticeably flushed from both the impulsiveness of her clumsy movements, and her sudden intimate contact with the younger girl. Vanille's hands fell gently into Fang's own, no longer shaking, as though subdued by the fragility that lingered between their gaze. Fang carefully moved the brunette's fingers into a peculiar position that seemed to mimic some sort of prayer, pointing upwards to the skies.

"Think of it as a sign of good luck," whispered Fang, finally relinquishing her grip, "just in case you ever need a miracle, and I'm not there to save the day."

---

Pulling yourself together, tearing yourself apart – it's all the same when you're a l'Cie.

Fang did all she could to protect Vanille, but ultimately failed in protecting her from what weighed upon her conscience the most: guilt of a situation that had never been her fault from the beginning. All of the deceit and miscommunication that previously deepened the rifts between them – perhaps it was a catalyst of sorts, instigating the downward spiral of fruitless endeavors their quest had amounted to as of late.

… no, she couldn't afford to think like that anymore. For Vanille's sake, and her own, she was going to tear down the sky that so dauntingly tantalized her, and create a miracle from the sea of dimming stars beneath her blade.

Completing a focus failed to grant the "reward" of eternal life – rather, it was either eternal damnation as a slave to some forsaken god, or eternal ignorance through loss of self. And Fang sure as hell wasn't going to let Vanille walk through that degree of torture without a fight, even if it meant succumbing to the flames in her stead. After having faced her own Eidolon, and helping Vanille conquer her doubts through Hecatoncheir, this truth became more apparent than ever.

However, within this truth lied dormant the doubt of uncertainty. Darkness had all but engulfed the village, leaving a vacant sense of dread that somehow managed to send a chill down Fang's spine. She couldn't recall ever having seen Oerba blanketed in such an eerie silence; even on the darkest nights, a feeling of warmth seemed to spread throughout the town.

Fang suddenly realized that Lightning and the others were, presumably, still exploring the area for clues to their focus. She briefly considered searching for them, in case any sort of trouble had arisen, but dismissed the idea upon realization that Vanille had fallen asleep with her arms wrapped against the older girl's waist.

---

For her tenth birthday, Vanille was given a small pet canary. She refused to have given it a formal name other than "Mr. Canary," justifying this decision as a simple necessity to focus more on the simple things life had to offer. Fang simply shook her hair and shrugged, having learned throughout the years better than to question Vanille's resolve.

The next day, while Fang and Vanille had gone outside to play, one of the more restless boys from the orphanage had mischievously shaken the bird's cage beyond its limits as a prank, robbing Mr. Canary of his short life from the shock. When Vanille tearfully made the discovery of her pet's death, crouching over the cage with heavy sob, Fang felt as though she had been the one whose heart had ceased functioning.

Shortly after, Fang promised herself that she'd never let Vanille experience the pain of loss again. After much persuasion – or rather, relentless pestering on her part – Fang managed to "convince" one of the village's engineers to help her create a pet robot out of scrap metal, and whatever other materials should could scavenge from Oerba's outskirts. It wasn't perfect, and certainly lacked the fluffy factor of the traditional pet, but Vanille's overjoyed expression at the sentiment compensated for whatever faults (including "unstable laser functions") present in the wiring.

The previous boy from the orphanage had attempted to pester the robot in the same way he had the canary, and was met with an, unfortunately minor, laser to the face.

Fang had never heard more uplifting news.

---

With intertwined fingers and intertwined fates, the two L'Cie laid side by side, temporarily at peace amidst the danger that lurked beyond the comfort of their momentary embrace. Vanille stirred, apparently awoken by a noise outside. Fang nudged her slightly, gently moving a stray strand of hair out of her face.

"You know, never did have that talk," said Fang, her voice almost inaudible under a faint whisper. Vanille yawned, lazily rubbing her eyes as she took in her surroundings.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked through another mid-yawn, still managing to sound surprisingly energetic, despite her half-awake state. Fang lethargically rolled over, brushing her lips against Vanille's forehead.

A startled, high-pitched squeak escaped from Vanille through a light shudder, making it apparent that their specific type of conversation didn't necessarily require words. Fang had never been quite certain of how to define her relationship with the younger girl, but ultimately concluded that there was simply no appropriate category of which they fell into. Fang was Fang, Vanille was Vanille, and the simple truth of the matter was that they needed the other to continue surviving in a world that was against them.

Fang suddenly felt like the awkward, uncertain girl she had been so many years ago, but this time, her fear of the unknown exceeded that of a village elder's idle scoldings. Fang herself had turned into the very "evil witch" she once found herself enticed by, and felt almost sickened to be kissing Vanille's neck with such tainted lips. Nonetheless, she couldn't quite bring herself to break away from the contact, almost as if clinging to the younger girl's innocence would rid her of her own sins.

Perhaps death would simply feel like drowning in an ocean of darkness, closing your eyes, and letting the heavy weight of sleep blanket your entirety. It was almost a comforting thought, but given that she had all but returned from such an ordeal, Fang knew it wasn't going to be such a simple feat to overcome. However, as she stood before the inevitable fate that tantalized her so, she knew for certain that Vanille would be there to pull her back up from the depths of her fears, just as she had done so many times before.

With fragments upon fragments of Cie'th tears reflecting obscure memories of a life they had once taken for granted, Fang closed her eyes and began to finally grasp hold of a future that she and Vanille could shape together. Despite the broken reminiscences that tied them together, as long as Vanille rested safely in her arms, Fang no longer doubted the tangibility of eternity.