How To Save A Life

Part II: Therapy

Chapter X

Aerith found herself standing close to the precipice, hands folded behind her back, staring out over the sea that caressed the calcite cliffs almost lovingly in a tender rhythm. The wind played with her hair, toyed with the chestnut tresses that fell loosely to her waist and swept the rose-coloured muslin fabric of the dress she had been gifted against her legs, flaring out behind her. In her head, for a moment spent in solitude, there was nothing but peace and a seed of hope, planted by the gentle hands of a kind woman with eyes like rain and an aura of familiarity that had shaken the young Ancient to the core and nourished by the comforting and unsettling glow of mako green that scarcely ever left her thoughts.

Aerith threw a look over her shoulder, towards the heart of the island, sweeping past the village a few minutes away and over the heather blooming in the valley. It was a strange place, she found, raw and untouched mostly by the evolution of society, left in many ways the way the planet had created it. There was no mako spring here, her hostess had told her, and thus the world had left the isle to it's own devices and the people who called themselves highlanders would not have it any other way. How odd, to find people who gladly denied themselves the use of many modern technologies in favour of traditional methodology and crafts, after spending so much time in the claws of their opposites, of those who hailed the God of progress. It was unsettling and heart-warming all at once, to the thrust into a world so different from the one she had known and thus she had sought solitude to gather her flurry of thoughts.

Her feet, clad now in summer sandals, had carried her to the edge of the coast of their own accord, halting just before the edge and moving no more. The urge to delve into the large expanse of ancient groves and to climb the rocky ridge in the distance behind her to find mountain lakes and pure streams of water was almost tangible in the air around her and yet she remained, standing perfectly still two feet before the three hundred foot drop into foamy waters. And when the sun finally broke through the grey clouds that had greeted her waking eyes a few hours past, she sighed and closed verdant gaze in supplication of radiant light. The memory of the last few days still lingered fresh in her mind.

The cottage on the edge of the town was warm and dry, welcoming with wooden furnishing crafted by skilled hands decades and days ago. The living room smelled of lavender hung to dry above the window and the cup of chamomile tea in her hands was delightfully grounding. The hunter Coilin and his wife Anissa looked like a happy couple from an old story, in their early thirties with kind smiles and faces that told the story of life in a harsh but happy environment. Their clothes, she knew, were hand-sewn and maintained with care, either by Anissa Gray herself or the seamstress in the village. Muslin linen dresses in pastel colours were apparently a favourite of the young woman, who had clad Aerith herself in a particularly pretty gown the colour of budding roses. It was a spring and summer dress, befitting the islands mild weather in the summer afternoons though mornings like this one, in early summer, still were rough when storms were bound for the isle. The couple sat across her on the sofa, waiting patiently for the explanation they had been promised by the deep, silken baritone that haunted her dreams, urging not despite the curious twinkly in the rainy eyes of the other woman, who called up in Aerith a feeling of familiarity that she could not explain. Coilin, a huntsman in the sixth generation with kind brown eyes and dark cropped hair, had come upon them when they had descended into the valley, looking battered and broken, not entirely only due to Sephiroth's schemes. She had been in his arms again, opting to look every part the damsel in distress that she would not allow herself to feel like.

It had only taken an hour for the three of them to reach the quaint cottage with the straw decked roof and the whitewashed walls and the green vegetable garden surrounded by fences. And when they had entered the home, she had instantly felt at home, safe and comforted by the smells and the ancient wood planks that stretched throughout the building. And now, washed and clothed by hospitable hands, she felt almost reborn anew, making this her third first birthday.

„It was foolish, of course, to trust the captain with our safe voyage," she heard the deceptively silken voice proclaim and she listened with eyes trailed on it's owner. Sephiroth too looked like a new man now that the blood and grime was gone from his complexion and his hair was no longer tangled but falling in soft strands that beckoned her touch. He looked human, almost safe for his bleeding eyes that had long since ensnared the curiosity of their hosts, and behaved as such though the rigidity of his military training would never yield to casual lounging. The dark grey woven trousers hugged his legs almost perfectly, the slightly too short garment ending in leather boots that reached halfway up his shins His chest was hidden by a moss green shirt, that fit him well, with rolled up sleeves to hide that they would have been too short. Aerith smiled, comparing the two men in the room that seemed to stem from different worlds. Coilin was tall, too, but still Sephiroth towered no less than four or five inches over him, with none of the highland roughness to his features or so much as a shade of silver coating his jaw now that he had shaved. Almost a shame, she thought, listening on the conversation she had half missed while lost in her thoughts.

„Junon to Icicle Inn...quite a journey with a captain that you didn't know. You should have known better."

„I agree. I would have booked us cabins on an airship but my fiancée is afraid of flying. I was foolish to accept the offer. Six hundred Gil is far too low a price for safe passage."

„Indeed! Six hundred Gil for a voyage half-way across Gaia!"

Aerith caught Anissa staring at her with curious eyes and a gentle smile, while her husband in his highland drawl cursed the hack for the scheming price and spoke in outrage of how they had been happy to escape disaster with their lives intact. How right he truly was, he would never know, but when her eyes flitted to those of the silver haired soldier at her side, she recognised that he too, was contemplating the irony.

„Why were you on your way north anyway? Icicle Inn is not your typical holiday destination in the summer, as far as I'm informed."

„We were hoping to elope," she heard the much too calm voice of her strange companion answer, as though he had just spoken of the weather. She felt her cheeks flush with heat and buried her face in the steaming mug of sweet tea, forcing her heart not to somersault but to beat in regular intervals.

„Parents disagree with your choice of husband, lass?"

„No parents to disagree on either side, I'm afraid. My father...disappeared before I was born and my mother died in childbirth. Aerith lost her mother too, when she was young and her father was killed by thugs."

She marvelled at how sincere his words sounded. Her father was...indeed killed by lesser men and her mother did die when she was young. So, she supposed, there was truth to his words, though the omittance of details made all that had happened to either parent frightfully trivial. Still, surrendering details of ShinRa and either involvement was hardly a better idea and so she remained silent.

„Sad business, such things, I'm sorry. Well, anyway, you're welcome to stay with us until we figure out a way to get you on your way north then."

She saw Sephiroth nodding and for the first time since she had introduced herself and thanked Anissa for the clothes, she spoke up.

„I would like to...stay here."

I know who you are. The voice of the woman who had just a second ago looked to be a simple person living an even simpler life still echoed in his head. Though the words had not been spoken aloud and were nothing but her thought made audible to his ears, it felt as though she had screamed them at him. There was no malice to be found in the tone of her inner voice, only guarded apprehension. It should not have surprised him, considering the way she had looked at him with strange eyes ever since their arrival says ago.

That does not surprise me. I offered my name as introduction.

I know what is associated with that name and what it truly means, Sephiroth, Jenova's chosen son.

Whatever the significance that you attribute to my name, I want no part of it.

History remembers your disappearance with confusion but the Planet remembers your treachery and your corruption well, harbinger. Why do you walk the earth again? What destruction do you bring?

Sephiroth made no movement nor did his face decry any particular emotion. Instead it remained blank, collected and calm as ever as he looked down at the woman whose blue eyes held wisdom that was far beyond her age and that he ought to curse himself for not seeing before. Her husband had left the building, to inquire after the village elders who had to bless his and Aerith's stay. For a second he contemplated severing the auburn head from her shoulders, swiftly and silently, but did away with the thought just as fast. Once upon a time he would have had no qualms in doing so, but now, that his clarity of mind was secured by his will to be uncorrupted, he did not wish any harm upon the woman who spoke to him in his mind with the authority of the storm and the wisdom of the earth. Realisation was upon him faster than a stroke of lightning and he felt his lip twitch as he broke away from his interlocked gaze to stare out of the window and look upon the silhouette of the only other woman he knew could wield such power through her inheritance.

I would not have it forget my sin, as I carry it with me still. I breathe to find purpose in salvation, to exist for the sake of existing, not to call doom upon the Planet or it's children. I bring nothing for you to fear, should you opt to stay out of my way, Ancient.

I am no ancient, my blood is too diluted for me to bear that title though the gifts of my lost ancestors still are strong within me. As for you however, there is darkness in you still, that could all too easily become consuming night. I would not have you destroy this place.

I have no wish to yield to the power in my veins, of that you may rest assured. I seek neither glory nor dishonour for myself.

What of her? When did the murderer become his victims guardian?

When far darker evils than my own threatened not only my life but hers. I will not impart details of her suffering or my own, but you should know that neither of us is what we once were when our roles were clearly defined by fate and choice alike.

She is aware of the darkness within you?

I never claimed to be anyone but myself in my truest nature and she came to me for solace in the face of despair either way.

Still his eyes lingered on the rose-clad woman standing outside, hair blowing in the wind as she stared heavenward. Was she aware of the kinship she shared with this strange woman? And if she was not, was it his place to impart such knowledge?

No. Her bond with the Planet is all but severed. She will learn, in time, as she heals, of my existence.

My silence for yours.

„You drive a hard bargain, Sephiroth Crescent. I shall keep an eye on you – for her sake and that of us all."

„My loyalty to her. Do not betray her, Anissa Grey, and I shall no threat to you or this place that you hold dear. She deserves a life that is her own."

„I could not agree more."

She seemed oblivious to his approach though he knew better than to trust the stillness of her stance to mean unawareness. Thus, unwilling to break the spell of her contemplation, he remained where he was, looking skyward to the now blue canopy tinged with feathery white. The sun had broken the cover of grey clouds as morning turned to midday and now the isle was bathed in sunlight that instantly made the sharp edges of the centre ridge look less apprehensive and intensified the myriad of colours of the wild flowers. Like them, Aerith seemed to glow with new vigour, despite the many conflicting emotions he could feel when he reached out for her mind, on which he no longer wished to intrude so easily. The six days spent trespassing on the Gray's hospitality had done more than restore tired bodies to new vigour or heal the last scrapes and bruises. Their hostess had kept the oblivious Ancient busy, showing her around the town and the closest grove, telling her stories of the land and it's people that Aerith smiled at with benevolence. He had watched her, from time to time, as she followed Mrs. Gray on her errands and introduced herself to the tightly knit community with kind smiles and sweet words. It had been strange, to say the least, to witness how easily she fit in with people who were so different in their inheritance and purpose from her. All took to her effortlessly, gravitating towards her youthful and somewhat unearthly grace naturally. All the while he lingered on the side of caution, demons still very much clouding whatever hope the prospect of a free life had kindled.

„A week ago, I was cowering in fear in a cage. And today I'm here, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair. I felt so lost when we came here, desperate and frightened and now..."

Her voice was eerie as it reached his ear, pulling him from his thoughts, lacking in the sadness or weariness he would have expected as it trailed off. She did not move as she spoke but continued to stare out across the ocean.

„Mh."

When finally she did turn around, there was a genuine smile gracing her lips, brightening her already lively eyes.

„I think that it's because the Lifestream is so close here."

„Does it speak to you again then?"

„Not quite. But sometimes, when I listen closely, I think I can hear it whisper."

He felt himself nod, relief washing over him like the waves below over the rocks. He felt the urge to speak of his discovery of her spiritual sister but refrained from breaking his promise despite his want to see her face as she realised.

„You don't have to stay here with me, you know," she said and he looked up to see her taking careful steps towards him her smile a little less bright by the time she halted within his reach. „You promised to take me with you when you left. You did. So you don't have to stay with me anymore."

„Is that so?"

She was right, he had done all he had promised to do. Their ways could easily part here and he could leave her to a life that was her own, just like he had originally intended. Ít would be kinder, in many ways, to leave her here to grow happy, to find her way back to life as it ought to be, free of agony and torture. She would fall in love and marry, have children and be a mother. She would spend her life among people who would become, in time, family and live out her days in happiness. She would be happy on this island where nature still ruled supreme and where ShinRa and their dogs could never quite reach her. The image was clear in his mind and yet more disturbing than any distorted nightmare. A selfish notion, befitting his person. He shook his head to clear the thought from his mind and to instil resolve. Still, he was reluctant to turn around and leave, a lingering feeling of duty and bond holding him firmly rooted to the ground as she stood only inches from him, smiling sadly up at him, hope brightly burning in her green eyes.

„Yes. Although I do have a wish..."

„Only one?"

He found himself aching to hear what it was that her heart desired, wondering if it was something he could grant. Far more so than the thought of taking flight once more and leaving her behind here.

Her hands knotted together in a display of nervous eagerness and he could have sworn that he could hear her heartbeat quickening and see her cheeks blush.

„Well...actually I have many tiny wishes. Twenty-eight, to be exact. But I know that you won't remember them all, so I out them all together into one: I'd like for you to stay...even though I know that you probably want to leave."

„How little you know of my desires."

Truly, she knew nothing, he found, chuckling darkly at the realisation that the object of his fledgling desires and the focus of his newborn hope, was ignorant to the role she played in his smithee of plans.

„Do you think that they will let us stay for good?"

Once again the analyst trumped the hopeful simpleton in his mind and he shrugged in contemplation. In a week he had learned much of the traditions and ancient laws that governed this peculiar island and it's people but even more remained still hidden from his piercing gaze. If they were to stay, there would be many rules to which they would have to conform, many customs to observe. The highlanders were careful people, suspicious of outsiders though they had opened to the flower girl from Midgar so fast. Of him they were wary, his appearance enough to command respect from the adults who would rather theirs be earned than given by the laws of nature alone. Yet he had been met with only careful curiosity and thinly veiled suspicion followed by hospitable manners and well-bred words.

„We shall see. I can be very convincing, though they like you better."

He smiled, the twitching of his lips spilling mischief onto angelic features. She giggled, eyes twinkling.

„You scare them. Maybe if you smiled more...they would trust you more."

„Noted."

Yet again a silver eyebrow quirked in mock annoyance at the woman who giggled like a school girl before him. No matter how becoming her laugh, the very idea of him smiling out of obligation to strangers was ridiculous, history considered.

„I have another wish, you know," she finally said, carefully, giggles stifled and head cocked sideways slightly as she fidgeted with her fingers.

„So eager – what is it?"

„I'd like for you to kiss me again."

Not a second later, he found himself bending down as his hands reached out to pull her closer, resting on her shoulders as he watched anticipation spread on her features.

„Granted."

Then he felt silky skin under his own lips, her bangs tickling his nose as he kissed her forehead affectionately, a thought in his mind conceived by possibility. When he drew away, he saw confusion play on pretty features and lifted a now perpetually ungloved hand to caress the blush that lingered on her cheek. A smirk drew up on his features, the irony of it all finally too much.

„Much too eager...for a girl who has already stolen my first kiss."

Late update, apologies. Thanks so much for your kind reviews, especially to the one faithful reader who keeps writing me some. I really do appreciate them.