We have traveled life’s highway of twists and bends. As each day goes by you fill my heart with so much joy and delight and so much more. When I hear I Love You, I just melt into so much joy and thoughts of happiness. As I say I Love You and we close our eyes and open out hearts no longer will we be apart, in each other’s hearts. No matter what problems we may encounter in the future, we’ll get through them together, I promise.
Black Knights
By Avalon
(I do not own Leon, Maria, Firion, Gus . . . blah, blah blah, u get my point. They belong 2 Square-Enix. Let me get 2 the point, this is about Leon after ‘Final Fantasy II.’ NOTE: I didn’t finish the game, but I pretty much know or guessed how it ends. So, let’s get this show on the road. By the way, this is how I played the game. By the way, I didn’t get to the part where they got the wyvern, so I guess I made up the fact that Firion is a Dragoon. If I’m wrong, please tell me.)
Chapter 1: Deep Thoughts
Leon sat in front of a lake in goddess knew where. He was deep in his thoughts. His dark blue eyes were expressionless. He wore dark violet and black armor and had dark brown hair and pale skin. His thoughts went back to his sister Marina, whom he left in the safe, protective, caring hands of his adoptive brother Firion. Leon had no idea, until after they defeated the emperor together, that Firion had feelings for his sister. Leon looked up at the sky. It was adorned with stars and a pale, blue moon.
A black muzzle tapped Leon’s shoulder. The black muzzle belonged to a big, black steed called Night. Leon pushed the horse away. He knew what the stallion wanted: oats.
"I’m sorry boy, I don’t have any oats," Leon muttered. He laid back against an old oak tree. He wondered what his sister was doing at this moment with Firion.
Marina, the next mourning listened to the court with half a mind on them and the other half worrying about her brother Leon. After he left without a word, Marina couldn’t stop worrying about him. Ever since her fiancee` left with his wyvern Starling to the Land of Dragoons and she found out she was having a baby, she paid little attention to the court. She had become the Head of the White Healers after Minwu died and that meant being the court healer. She had to be at courts when they were open. Now, they were discussing the matter of marriage between Prince Gordon and Princess Hilda. Marina’s mind was divivded into quaters: her child, her fiancee`, her brother, and the court.
". . . think Lady Marina?" a court official asked. It was the king of thieves Paul.
"Say what?" Marina exclaimed.
Laela laughed quietly.
"I asked what did you think," Paul said.
"I’m sorry, I’m just worried about my fiancee` and my brother and . . . may I be excused?" Marina asked. "I . . . I can’t think straight." Without waiting for any answer, she left, Hilda following. Gordon postponed the dicussions for tomorrow. Outside on a balcony, Marina looked out over Fynn. Hilda sat next to her.
"Are you alright?" Hilda asked.
"I’m fine," Marina replied.
"’I'm fine,’" Hilda mimicked. Gordon appeared, but Hilda shooed him away. "I know, the ‘I’m fine’ is stretched tightly across your face. You and I know qiute well that you’re lying."
"I’m just worried about my brother and fiancee`," Marina said. "There are a lot of imperials still around that we haven’t caught yet and if they see Firion and Starling flying around, they’ll shoot them on sight. And you know my brother was with the empire once. The sergents he once commanded might kill him because he betrayed the emperor. And to make matters worse, I’m carrying Firion’s child! A new dragoon!" Marina exploded into tears.
"So that’s why you were slacking off in your work," Hilda muttered. "You were limiting yourself so you wouldn’t hurt the unborn child. You may take pardons if that’s what you wish. You will take time off."
"I need at least eight months," Marina whispered.
Firion flew Starling to the castle where they found a woman and her son practicing some sword combat. Firion reconized them, the boy used to be a small, eight year old boy. He was now ten.
"Hello Lady Aly and Tommy," Firion shouted. The mother and son stop practice and looked at Firion.
"Hello Firion," Aly shouted. "And Starling."
"Good news, we found a few dozen wyvern eggs in the old Palamecian capital," Firion reported. "The chances of your son becoming a dragoon are good. They’re preparing to hatch in the Life Spring. Let’s go Tommy."
"Okay," Tommy shouted. He followed Firion out of the newly built castle. They rode on Starling to the cave and down to the spring where a little ember wyvern popped its head out of the crystal waters. It shrieked with happiness as it saw Tommy.
Leon rode into the city Fynn in the dark of night and entered his home. It was a beautiful little house. He saw his sister sitting in front of the fire place, drinking white tea. Something was wrong.
"Marina," Leon called.
She turned her head and looked at him, violet eyes filled with tears. She turned back to the fire. Leon sat next to her.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "Where’s Firion? And Starling? She wasn’t in the back yard."
"Firion left to train," Marina replied. "He needed to take Starling with him. Leon, I was worried about you. Where have you been?"
"I was . . . I was thinking," Leon told her. "I needed time to sort out my thoughts. Think about what you and the lordship said. I have been gone a few months and I still can’t get his words out of my mind. I need more time to think. I’ll stay in the attic for a few days and leave."
"Leon, until Firion returns, I’m going to need you here," Marina snapped. "In seven months, I’m having a baby. I can’t stay alone."
"Don’t you have servents?"
"They only stay until after breafast and only come to prepare my meals. Other then that, I eat at the castle. I’m the new court healer, but I’m taking time off because of the child. I left one of my best in charge. So I’m going to need you here. It’s only until Firion returns home."
"When will he be back?"
"I don’t know; he said to postpone the wedding for a month or two."
"Don’t worry Sister, I’ll take care of you."
"Thank you."
Chapter 2: A Looked into Leon’s Past
Firion trained the new dragoon the were coming to Deist. He taught them everything he learned from a dragoon he had once traveled with. But he had died saving Firion, Marina, Gus, and Leon. The dragoon had not intended to save Leon, but all the same. Aly assisted him in the training. In three weeks, Firion felt it was time to return to Fynn where Marina was waiting to get married. Riding his blood-red wyvern Starling, they flew to the capital. He land Starling in the palace courtyard. Hostlers came to handle the wyvren. Firion entered the throne room.
"Welcome back Sir Firion," Hilda called.
"Where the hell have ye been?" Leala asked.
"Good to see you too," Firion laughed. "I was training in Deist. I got a lot of dragoons by the way."
"That’s good news for all of us," Gordon said.
"Marina is at her home," Paul shouted.
Leaving without a word more, Fririon left.
"Do you think we should have told him that his brother is there as well?" Gordon asked.
"Let that be," Laela replied.
"You really don’t care what other people think, do you?" Paul questioned.
"Not in the least," Laela answered.
"I like her," Paul told Gordon.
"Great, more trouble," Gordon muttered.
At home, Marina put out an extra plate with bacon, eggs, and toast as Leon took his old seat. He noticed the extra plate after Marina put three glasses on the table. One was full of white tea for her, orange juice for Leon, and water.
"Are you expecting someone?" Leon asked.
"I looked in my mirror and saw we would have company this mourning," Marina replied.
"Who’s the visitor?"
Firion entered the room. His eyes went wide when he saw Leon; Marina didn’t say a word. They were silent for five minutes. It was Firion who spoke first.
"What is he doing here?" he asked.
"He’s staying with us for a little while," Marina replied.
"I’ll be laeving tomorrow," Leon reported.
"No you won’t," Marina snapped. "It’ll do the three of us good if you stay. Besides, you don’t have to share a room anymore. Firion and I sleep in my room until we can arrange this house propperly. I want you both here until after the wedding and I give birth."
"We’re having a baby?" Firion asked dumbstruck.
"Yes silly," Marina replied.
Firion felt weak. Marina remember how she discovered this. A white wolf and a servent had pointed it out. She had fainted afterwords.
"Now Firion, are you going to sit down and have dinner with us, or just stand there until you collasp?" Marina asked. Firion took his seat. They ate their breafast in silence. Like always, Marina saw Leon rubbing his left shoulder. Firion saw this and after breakfast, he decided to ask what was wrong.
"What do you mean?" Leon asked.
"I’ve notice this for the past three weeks; you rub your left shoulder," Marina replied.
"So, what’s wrong with it?" Firion asked.
"It’s just an old scar," Leon replied. "It shouldn’t be bothering me. I got three years ago five months I arrived in the Palamecian capital."
"How did you get it?" Marina questioned.
"That’s none of your concern," Leon answered.
Marina gave him the ‘you tell us or you’re in big trouble mister’ look.
"Alright . . . I used to be whipped and beaten," Leon explained.
‘After I entered the service of the emperor, I started where most swordsmen-in-training start. I was a servent for a time. Every time I did or siad something stupid, the emperro would whip or beat me. After three months of harsh treatment, I barely felt the whiplashes and sticks. After the last whipping I got, the emperor decided I was ready to begin my training as a black knight.’
"Are you pleased with the treatment?" the emperor asked.
Leon was shaking. His shirt was ripped, cuts and bruises adoned his back, and blood was everywhere. He threw up until he had nothing letf to throw up. The whip net his back again, cutting a deep wound into his back. Leon cried in agony. He had tried to stay bottled up, but it was pointless. The whip struck him again. It met his back a second time. Three, four, five, six times. He had already been whipped five times before the he started throwing up. By the time Leon would be able to return home, he wouldn’t have a back.
Six months later . . .
The emperor finally called on Leon and announced him a Black Knight. Leon was pleased, but he had no idea that thhe emperor had called on him for more then just that. The emperor shared a plan with him.
Marina and Firion were speechless.
"Why didn’t you say something?" Marina asked.
"I didn’t want you in my affairs," Leon replied.
"So, you were with the empire before they attacked Fynn . . ." Firion muttered. "Let me guess, you killed your mother and father?"
"Guilty," Leon said.
"Did you intend to kill us too?" Firion aksed.
"I was going to try and talk you into joining the emepire," Leon replied.
"After you told us that imperials had killed your parents?" Firion snapped.
"That was stupid," Leon muttered.
"Firion . . . Leon . . . drop it! Both of you," Marina cried. "That was all in the past. We have to deal with the present now. Like now, I have a wedding to prepare for!"
"Why does she always look at positives?" Leon asked.
"I have funny news, I’m planning to force Laela into a pink dress," Marina laughed.
"Laela likes black . . . why are you putting her in a pink dress?" Firion asked.
"One: she’s one of my bride’s maids and two: I just want to embarass her," Marina replied. "Besides, embarassing her will be the pay back I owe her for that little ambush a six months back. Remeber, we were on our way to Deist."
"Yeah," Firion laughed.
Laela arrived at three with the latest gossip from the castle. At night, she went to Paul’s house, making up an excuse that she was going to help him clean his house, which no one believed of course. Marina and Firion went to her room while Leon slept in his childhood room, with no idea the next day would be very eventful.
Chapter 3: The Past of Marina
Marina was glad to see her brother and fiancee` getting along for the first real time since they departed from Fynn four years ago. She remembered the day well. She had cried that day when they left.
Firion and Leon stood in the doorway. Father was talking to them about honor and duty. They were to learn a paicular sword art. Leon had decided to learn the Black Art form that was taught in Palamecia and Firion hoped to go to Deist to learn the Dragon Sword Art taught nby Dragoons and their wyvrens. Marina was coming down the stairs as they were leaving. They walked out the door. Marina ran down the stairs, she would have walked out the door, begging them not to leave, but her father had grabbed her and told her not to interfere.
She didn’t even say goodbye; she had no idea that her brothers going down their own seperate pathes would change her life in a million ways.
Now, standing in her kitchen, her brother and her fiancee` were talking with each other and stroking Starling. Starling was getting irrtated by all the attetion, so she stuck her head in the kitchen door.
"Isssss yarrah yeerr rissha isss," she hissed.
Marina thought about what the wyvren could be saying. Firion tapped on the window; Marina opened it.
"She asked if Leon was friend or an enemy," he translated.
Marina’s eyes closed, when she reopened them, her world was crimson and strange. She looked at Starling.
"Leon is my brother and he’s an ally, friend, however you want to put it," Marina answered to the wyvren. When she reopened her eyes, Firion and Leon were staring at her.
That night, the three of them sat in front of the fire. Marina was leaning against Firion while he stroked her hair and Leon sat in the shadows. Marina was tired and watching the fire was not helping. She feel asleep and to the floor; Leon and Firion caught her and it was Firion who carried her to bed and returned.
"She spoke wyvren," Leon muttered from the shadows.
"I didn’t even know she could speak wyvren," Firion muttered.
"I have done a lot of reseach on Dragoons," Leon reported. "Dragoons and white wizards are very powerful combinations."
"Marina said it was going to twins: a boy and a girl," Firion muttered. "Twins don’t run in your family. And I hardly think they run in my real family."
"That’s the thing about dragoons and white wizards; one twin is a girl with her heart set on fighting for the greater good and the other will be a boy meant follow in the white wizard tracks. I read that every one hundred years, this actually happens. But, the white wizard dies in the birthing and the dragoon dies when the chilren turn ten. Firion, Marina is going to die when she gives birth to those twins."
"And I’ll meet the same fate in ten years."
Chapter 4: Final Minutes
Firion raced through the city seven months later. He was in a hurry and it was almost midnight. If he didn’t get home before midnight, Laela would scold him if Marina died. Laela herself was giving birth in a few months. Leon had been coming and going every now and then. He’d leave one month and return two months later. Firion and Marina were curious about what Leon was doing; he never replied. Firion entered the house and slid out of his soaked cloak. He raced up a flight of stairs, slipping and bruising his right knee. He entered a room as the cloak struck midnight. He took Marina’s hand, assuring her everything would alright. They weren’t. After ten frightninig minutes, one boy and one girl were crying.
"Miracle and Fredrick," Marina gasped.
"I like those names," Firion agreed.
"I’m sorry," Marina sighed. She closed her eyes and her hand opened, revealing a crystal heart on a silver chain. One of the healers was a rainbow belt like Marina was.
Firion handed the crystal to him. "I think Marina had you in mind as her successor."
"I’ll handle this honor with care," the healer said putting the the necklace on.
(Ok, i admit it! sucky ending! But that’s all i can think of. Please wait 4 the next story 2 find out what Leon was up 2. until then, bye.)
A Tortured Soul
by Daphne Sy
E-mail- sephiroth_x@ameritech.net
(This is supposed to be written completely from Aerith’s point of view, so not all information is going to correct. This is just how she perceived the events. Also, I wrote this story without the use of the FF7 script, so there may be some inaccuracies. Thank you for understanding!)
I trudged my way through the winding stone pathways of the City Hall, eyes downcast, with thoughts overflowing my fragile mind. It was really too much for one soul to bear… so I tried to block it out. No ‘heritage’, no ‘destiny’… I am but a woman. Entering a long forgotten chamber, I came across a tiny inland lake, its sparkling depth so blue… Almost as if it wasn’t really water at all. As if time could not age the room, leaving it untouched by its greedy reaching fingers, same as it was when the Planet was born. Cerulean tinges swirled gently with periwinkle streaks with the slightest tint of Lifestream mixed in, giving it an eerie green glow…
The lake was as blue as his eyes.
I watched as my worries sank in the calmness of the pool, pushed away and buried in the depths of the water along with so many memories… The water glimmered gently, almost sympathetically… I could hear its breezy whisper in my ear, offering me another chance at life. One last chance to turn back. But with a tired sigh, my heart refused it.
"Why?!" my mind pleaded in desperation. But I already knew why, even though I was too stubborn to believe it at first.
"Because… Because I love him," I answered myself gloomily, my own voice comforting to my senses in the deadly silence of the city. The last syllables ricocheted off the quiet waters and the looming rocks of the cave walls, forever to remind me…
Cloud…
We had met under the dim lights of the corrupted city of Midgar on a day that seems long past. He was a mighty Ex-SOLDIER, and I… I was only a lowly flower peddler. There was something about him under the lamp that night… something I couldn’t identify from just that fateful first glance. He was handsome and I could tell he had gil from the sharp and cunning way his eyes darted about, coupled with the fierceness of his attitude of suspicion as I approached him. My heart pounded feverish blood through my veins as I fixed my bangs nervously, advancing towards him with the fragrant basket tucked neatly in the crook of my elbow. For the first time in my life, I had been timid with a stranger. I was flat out afraid. But not because of the huge sword he carried sheathed over his back… or was it…? But all I could do was gasp shyly in greeting:
"Oh, Sir, won’t you buy a flower? They’re only one gil!!" I had managed to blurt out, embarrassed.
I will never forget the look on his face as he turned towards me, staring at me with such a deep burning suspicion… and then satisfied in my harmlessness, nodded in agreement.
My cheeks were burning a furious crimson as I handed him the silken rose, my favorite amongst the flowers I had picked and brought for that morning’s sales. I had always felt a special attachment towards that blossom. It once sprouted on the bush that had sprung from the original sprig, which had been found tied in my mother’s hair ribbon the day she passed away. She had slipped it off from where it hung knotted on her wrist, and handed the matted silken bundle to Elmyra to pass to me some day, for it contained the Holy materia wrapped carefully inside its travel-stained length. The glowing charm had been pressed firmly against the base of the cutlet’s stem.
Perhaps that was why the flowers seemed so magical. I took the budding stem outside one day and planted it at my mother’s memorial in Elmyra’s garden. It sprang up quickly and healthily, to our surprise, the only living flowers that grew in the slums of Midgar until I discovered the church where I left another cutlet from the original bush. Hah, I remember how Elmyra used to tease me that flowers bloomed wherever I went…
From the original rosebush blossomed only a single bud every year. Though fragile, it was the most beautiful of the entire garden, which had been magically supportive of flowers as soon as the roses took root. It would blossom into a tiny crimson sunburst of magnificence… then fade and die suddenly, almost fitfully…
On that morning, I had felt a sudden urge to pluck the last of the roses from the bush. It was the frightening feeling again… a prickling sensation across the spine… sometimes even voices I couldn’t properly understand. It was almost as if someone was watching my every movement with sharp and cunning eyes…
But now I know this: you cannot escape your destiny, for if you run it will hunt you down, as savage as any predator stalking its prey. I know only now what it was: the power of premonition, warnings from ancestors. It is a pain like this that the Ancients must endure… and alone.
Anyway, the man snatched the flower as I held it out to him and dumped the gil roughly into my outstretched hand, taking off like a rocket and leaving me behind helpless but to watch and stare… Yet I had seen the fear behind those deep sapphire gems, far beneath the dazzling surface, and straight into his troubled soul.
The next time I saw the man was a few days after the first encounter in the streets. It was those few days in between that got me to thinking. About Tseng and Zack… and of course, the stranger.
Tseng had come to visit the church just a week before, begging me to come with him to the "Company," for my own safety of course. "I don’t want anything to happen to you," he pleaded of me. I persisted with my stubbornness, asking him haughtily why he was so concerned about my health, and then he did something that caught me completely off guard.
He admitted it. He took my thin cold hands in his own warm ones and stared shyly at the ground.
"Because I love you, Aerith."
As if I hadn’t heard that enough times before! Every boy from the Sector 5 slum in turn had tried that phrase on me at least once. I fell for that trap a few times in the beginning, but after a while I began to see through the lie, to stare the dark truth always in the face. Eventually I had learned that what it really meant was nothing; that those three words that are supposed to be the most beautiful and inspiring in life were fake, only a petty and poorly fabricated mask for lust. Many times I had called upon Tseng himself during my childhood, not only to be my hero by fending off those who wished harm upon me, but also to protect me from the leering eyes and aggressive minds of men. I couldn’t trust anyone but Tseng to protect me, but I never suspected that those times he would wrap his arms so warmly around my body with friendship and comfort that he was just the same as the rest of them; sick-minded and selfish.
All the same, I felt sorry for him and I told him gently that I couldn’t leave. I just couldn’t. Outraged at my refusal, he began to yell at me in a tone that I’ve never heard from his normally gentle soul. I had snapped angrily back at him, saying that Ancients are born to suffer, made to bear the crosses of the miserable human race.
I regretted that remark as soon as it was uttered from my lips.
Infuriated at that retort, Tseng stomped out of the church angrily. As he stood under the broken arches of the rotting pews, he whirled upon me, promising me one thing:
"You can’t run, my dear. Shinra will get their hands on you… one way or another."
His menacing remark grated harshly on my ears that entire night as I lay in my bed, waiting impatiently for the coming of a new dawn. A deep depression settled mercilessly upon my mind and soul, beating me with its stinging whip at every available opportunity, never relenting, no matter how hard I begged and cried for relief…
It was a sleepless night.
The next morning, I rose reluctantly from my bedroom and left early for the church. Zack dominated my entire mind, filling my soul with the unshed tears of the past. His specter was my food, my drink, and my rest. He had been one of the few people who had the power to make me truly happy…
Did he leave me? Why? I thought he loved me…
Traitorous fools, men are! They are but pain and sorrow to a woman’s heart. The day he left was the day part of me died…
He claimed that he was heading west to some remote country town to quell an uprising of monsters for the Shinra. I can remember the pride in his voice as he told me he was going to be a ‘hero’ like the great Sephiroth by visiting some Mako reactor deep in the mountainous terrain of the far-western continent. And with a bright and humored smile, I saw him off to the train, waving frantically like the common overexcited youth. At that point, he leaned over, kissing me on the lips, a surge of joy rising from deep within the both of us. The last time I ever heard his voice was from the train as he sped off:
"Aerith, wait for me, I’ll be back! I love you!!"
Lies, all of them!!
It was then that I realized why I felt so strangely when I set eyes upon the stranger. I saw Zack in him, from the sturdily built form and the apathetic attitude to the massive blade that he carried strapped to his back with ease. I had seen him again through the stranger. And it was then that I came to a painful realization:
I still loved him. Zack was still in my heart, prodding the tender organ mercilessly, causing pain to course through my soul… never ceasing. Mercy hadn’t been a word in his vocabulary then, and I knew that he would never stop tormenting me, never cease his haunting, day or night…
And so it went for an entire week. There was never any rest for me, even in my dreams… I fled to the church for refuge, to hide from the sorrow and pain… but not even the sweet perfume of flowers could break the depression. The same topics were running their course again through my mind when the stranger decided to drop in.
Literally.
It must have been that sixth sense of mine that forced my half-conscious mind to leap back in time. It was a quiet and peaceful afternoon, yet my thoughts were still utter turmoil. I sat unsuspectingly watering the blooming flowers before I headed for home after another miserable and tiring day. Before I knew what was happening, my legs forced me to fly backwards, and an earth-shattering boom sounded, along with a violent earthquake. I fell roughly backwards, lying completely stunned on my back and without a shred of my dignity remaining intact. Petals seemed to rain from the sky, coating the rotting wooden floor with a carpet of colorful beauty.
It took a few seconds before the dust cleared enough for me to see what happened. I shook myself out of the daze and jumped deftly to my feet, dusting off the thin pink skirt as I mentally retrieved pieces of my shattered pride.
There he was, lying amongst the flowers.
The stranger with the magnificent eyes…
He sat up slowly, obviously as confused as I was. Looking about cautiously at his surroundings, he came to a sudden and embarrassing realization that he was sitting in the midst of a garden. With a leap of shame and a murmur of apology, he landed away from the rubble and dusted his thick baggy pants off with a gloved hand. He smiled ruefully at me as he saw me standing off to the side, gawking awkwardly at him.
"I’m sorry about the flowers," he mumbled sheepishly. I smiled, beaming forgiveness at him, attempting to ease his obvious discomfort.
"Hey, it’s ok. Do you remember me?" I asked anxiously, a strange feeling of hope budding up within me.
His eyes narrowed for a minute, trying to match my face in his mind. "Oh, I remember! You’re the slum drunk!" The eyes glowed with triumph, which quickly subsided as his glance met my distressed frown.
"No, that’s rude! You don’t remember? You bought a flower from me only a few days ago!" I was stern in my disappointment at first, but at seeing his downcast expression, I was helpless to do anything but shrug and burst out laughing. He relaxed visibly when he apparently decided that I had a good sense of humor.
"So what’s your name? I’m Aerith." I said cheerily. I could almost hear the echo of my voice in his mind as it attempted to trigger some faint, far away memory… But he shook his head, unable to think of where he heard the name.
"I’m Cloud," he said shortly. The sound of his name… his voice… I stopped the memory from continuing, wrenching my thoughts away from that first day as we fled the church from the Turks, sent by an infuriated Tseng…
"He could’ve cared less what my name was," a mocking laugh escaped my throat. "He had no interest in me at all. Not from the beginning. Not even now." A deep sigh breathed past my lips as I recalled the last time that I attempted to be alone with him.
We were staying in the Gold Saucer, a game area notorious for its revelry and wild activity. After winning the Keystone to the Temple of the Ancients, we were all completely exhausted, especially Cloud himself. He had triumphed marvelously in Battle Square, stunning Dio and the bloodthirsty audience with his amazing fighting skills. With that victory fresh in our minds, we decided to settle into our rooms in the inn for the night.
I just couldn’t sleep… something was weighing heavily on my mind, and that something was Cloud. I had begun to realize that night that he was more to me that just a hired bodyguard. He had captured my heart in his marvelous stride, whether he had noticed or not. My remaining love for Zack had transferred itself to Cloud… they were so much the same I couldn’t help but fall for him again. Yet Cloud was always so cold… Zack had always been such a joker and a ladies man.
I wanted to talk to him alone this time, without Tifa or anyone else hanging onto his arm relentlessly… I had to say something. I had to tell him how I felt, for then I hoped that maybe my soul would get some peace from the torture. So I took a deep breath and crept out of the darkened room silently, hearing Yuffie turn in her sleep as I squeezed through the slight opening in the door, bathing her gently snoring form in a thin stream of light. I froze momentarily… nothing.
I exhaled in relief. Tiptoeing quietly near the room that Cid and Barret were sharing, I paused cautiously… hearing nothing but obnoxious snores in the silence. And so I fled quickly past, squeezing my eyes shut fearfully as I dodged into the shadows just outside of Cloud’s quarters. My chest heaved anxiously, uncontrollably… this was the moment. I held my breath to calm myself, but the blood was already rushing to my brain in a frenzy of nervousness. And so I turned the corner into the room apprehensively, heart throbbing wildly in my chest… and quickly jumped back with a frightened gasp.
Tifa!
What was she doing there?!
"I had a great time tonight, Cloud…" Tifa smiled, sidling up to him and leaning her dark head against his shoulder. Cloud shrugged uncomfortably, obviously uncertain of the situation as Tifa stroked his spikes gently. "Well, time to get to bed before one of the girls wakes up and sees that I’m gone! Even though we will have to report the loss of the Keystone…" she sighed with an air of dejection. "Goodnight!" Tifa smiled brightly, triumphantly… mocking me as if she knew that I was standing there, awestruck and heart-broken, hiding like an unwelcome ghoul in the darkness of the archways…
I saw and heard no more. Broken completely, I dashed off, out of the hotel and into the torturous embrace of the night. Stars danced merrily over my head as I cursed them for betraying me, for cruelly obliterating the last bit of hope I had in my shattered life. Tears flooded my vision, distorting and blurring the brightness of the sites of the Gold Saucer. I ran blindly, bumping heedlessly into people and objects during my flight.
And suddenly… there was nowhere more to run.
So I just stood there, staring over the balconies at the sandy expanse of the prisons that lay so far below. An idea clicked in my mind… stirred deep within my soul. I could do it… I could end it all right now. Run from destiny, from life… I wrenched my thoughts from the thought. No… it was just too easy. In fact, it was cowardly. And so I ripped myself from the balcony and utilized my entire willpower to take the step away from the ledge… and ran full force back to the inn.
All of this I saw and thought as I sat listlessly, glaring with intense hatred at the images conjured up by the living waters… More pain… All life ever was was just more pain!
Without even uttering a sound, I gather my staff automatically, fixing my wind ruffled hair coolly in the reflection in the water. I stare, horrified at the sunken and swollen lids, the lines slowly creasing the face that stares back at me…
A single tear drips slowly into the image, distorting it with the ripples that form in the water.
The radiant seashell building stands monolithic in front of me as I rise unsteadily to my feet. I can’t help but limp drunkenly as I enter the eerie light of the colorful staircase, barely even noticing the vivid colors that fly around my head as I descend…
A person can only take so much… of life… and of love.
The altar lays ahead… my mind can’t stop racing… I can’t even control my feet as they skip over the pedestals, landing gracefully upon the lighted platform, the bright sun framing my face as I gaze upwards… and back into the world. I can’t turn back… not now… not ever.
My knees fold, shaking uncontrollably as I collapse roughly onto the smooth marble, pain coursing through every inch of my being… I pant, gasping for the breath that is being choked out of me. There is only one thing left to do-
Pray.
As I kneel, my hands fold over my stomach, my head bows… the light thickens, bathing me in warmth…
A prayer for salvation…
A prayer for mercy.
Sounds echo faintly through the hallways… footsteps! I can hear his voice… ever so faintly, yet there. He came… My heart leaps slightly. I knew it was him… the heavy clunk of his boots against the marble of the carefully crafted floor I knew instantly to be his. The volume of the steady rhythm increases slowly… then stops. I hear a faint whispering. So they saw me.
So let them come.
I pretend not to notice; it’d all be over soon anyway. A single pair of boots resumes its journey, its echo loud against the eerie silence of the hall as he leaps the pedestals tentatively… I can feel his presence in front of me as well as the shadow cast by his sword as he raises it over my head… and the cry of shocked voices screaming his name. A smile spreads across my face. He had taken so much from me already…
Perhaps it is only fitting that I die by his hands.
The shadow recedes and I can hear him shouting to the sky. Surprised, I glance up at him… meet the calm and expressionless gaze with my own eyes…
I can feel the darkness descending.
Mentally, I utter one final goodbye.
I loved you, Cloud Strife.
The sword passes through me, the shroud of darkness thrown over my body.
Mercy granted from the darkness… at last.
——-
Ok, I’d like to make an Author’s note, since I noticed so many of the reviews said "I never really thought that Aerith would feel this way" or "It’s so sad!" and stuff like that….
When I wrote this story, I was in an AWFUL depression… I was ready to cry, so I just went upstairs and picked up my pen. I scribbled down a few things, and I started to write about Aerith… it was just the first sad thing that came to my mind when it came to writing! Well, at the moment, I had this loathing fury for males… and I personally strongly despise Cloud. "He’s an insensitive bastard!" was all that came into my mind. And all he made her go through, I was thinking… But how I got to where I did, I don’t know. My pen… just flew by itself! At some point my writing was almost indecipherable… I started crying so I couldn’t even see the page. After I finished, Ijust went downstairs and started typing… I posted it at my favorite site, got a bunch of decent reviews, so then it went through a series of evolutions.. to what you see now.
Well, anyway, it started more of a reflection on how I felt, which actually completely fit the mood for the fanfic I wrote. So my suggestion to all of you authors out there is that when you’re sad, happy, angry… whatever you are feeling, grab a pen and see where it’ll take you! 
Don’t instruct it… just let your emotions guide. You’d be surprised at what’ll come out… I most certainly was. I knew I was upset, but not that angry, and it helped me to cope with what I felt.
But I’d like to make a few commments based on what someone said to me at another website a little while before… first off he called it "only a lot of good grammar… nothing more." I shrugged that off. At least he complimented my grammar. He’s free to think what he wants of it. But what bothered me is when he said that the fanfic wasn’t any good because a lot of the parts in it were choices from the game.. *rolls eyes* That’s why it’s fanfiction, buddy! But what REALLY pissed me off was when he told me that Tseng would never act the way I made him. Unfortunetly for him, it’s VERY likely that something to that liking happened. Why would Tseng kick the girl he’s been in love with for 14 years unless he was angry with her? Why were both of them so upset at seeing each other in the Temple? Why could Tseng not do the kidnapping job himself and sent Reno to do it instead? I put up such an arguement over that point that he didn’t even reply, LOL!
So what I’m trying to say is that I LIKE negative criticism but if it’s not both constructive and legitimate, then I will become quite irritated… so keep that in mind as you review! But I long to improve, so if you have a suggestion (other than "too many adverbs"… I know!! But I’m too lazy for that one. I’d have to rewrite entire parts of the story to take them out and make it sound decent!) Please tell me! I can’t improve unless I know what’s wrong.
Thank you for reading this hunk of junky writing I call my fanfic, and I hope you will read "The Dark Phoenix," also by me! It’s taken more of my attention… especially long term. It may be excessively long, but I’ve gotten great reviews about it, so please read it and I hope you like it! Bye!! (see you later)
Seduction is the art, and joy, of tempting your partner into a romantic, sensual liaison. It is less about the outcome of your liaison, and more about the game of seducing. When you begin a game of seduction you are inviting your partner to a completely sensual experience designed to heighten ALL of their senses. Your partner should be in a passive role, while you determine which sense to heighten and which zone to pleasure.
Typically, a successful seduction is longer than your average lovemaking session, and can even last over a few days or weeks. It’s important to remember that coupling doesn’t always have to happen. Think of it as an extended foreplay session. If days of sensual innuendoes and mood setters can’t get your partner in the mood, nothing will!
Before beginning your seduction plan, you need to decide how long you want your seduction to last. Is there a special day coming up? Do you want to make some serious changes in your love play? If so, a week long seduction might be a better approach.
Once you’ve decided your time limit, you’ll want to look at how you want to begin capturing your partner’s sensual attention. There are numerous ways to go about this. The most important thing to remember about this stage is that you should NOT couple! This is about getting their interest and heightening their senses for when you actually do couple. Here are a few ideas to get you started:
The Main Event
Now that you’ve put all this effort into getting your partner ready, it’s time to move onto the main event. Again, it’s important to remember that the longer you draw out the seduction, the better it will be.
There are various stages of arousal you enter into when engaging in love play. The shorter the experience, the lower the level of arousal you are able to access. The longer the experience, the higher the level of arousal you and your partner can enter into. Thus, if you can prolong the experience you will create a memory you will both treasure for quite a while.
To make the most of this factor, you’ll need to have things in place that will heighten all of your partner’s senses. We’re talking about a full assault on their senses. When you’re done with them you’ll leave them wondering how sex could have ever been otherwise. Here are some ideas to get you started:
You can further heighten the senses by hindering one of them completely. A reduction causes the other senses to work more to make up for the loss. You can remove the sense of sight by using a blindfold. You can remove the sense of touch by using restraints. You need to make sure your partner would be comfortable with this type of love play before doing this though.
For an additional benefit, when you execute your main event, you may want to try something a little different. For example, a tryst with role-playing may let your partner become more open and result in new levels of arousal. Or, a prolonged temptation before letting them reach their peak will certainly get results.
Remember, this is your seduction. You can do whatever you KNOW will get your partner excited. The main point is to infuse some creative loving into your relationship. If you’ve lost a bit of that "new love attraction" this is an excellent way to get it back. Every few months, make sure you do something similar to this to keep the spark alive and create some fantastic memories to look back upon!
TALK BACK
How do you seduce your partner? Let us know at lovingyou.com/love&sex
"Think of a breakup this way: you’re one step closer to the one you’re meant to be with." –submitted by Sarah
Breaking up is the beginning of new transition in your life. It’s easy to look at an experience in a negative way, but we’d like to challenge you to view your separation as a new beginning — a real chance for finding your Mr. or Ms. Right. With your friends or parents guide, you will find advice for determining whether you should make the split, tips to show you how to actually do it and words of encouragement and comfort while you let your heart heal.
When I was young and free and my imagination had no limits, I dreamed of changing the world. As I grew older and wiser, I discovered the world would not change, so I shortened my sights somewhat and decided to change only my country. But it too, seemed immovable. As I grew into my twilight years, in one last desperate attempt. I settled for changing only my family, those closest to me, but alas, they would have none of it. And now as I lie on my death bed, I suddenly realize; If only I had changed myself first, then by example I would have changed my family. From their inspiration and encouragement, I would then have been able to better my country and, who knows, I may have even changed the world.
Faith is what makes me believe that tomorrow is another day.
That the past is not a mistake, but our way of learning that we must go on.
Knowing that there is something out there waiting for us.
It is a reassurance that we cannot see or touch, but feel.
It is the calm that comes over us when we are angry.
It is the hand that caresses our face when we have been crying.
It is the belief that everything will get better when things go wrong and the sign we need to keep going.
Having faith is not always easy for we cannot always see, but knowing we feel what we
know is out there is what helps us with each passing day.
In times of darkness it has been the light that one needs to find his or her way.
It gives us strength when we can no longer stand.
It gives us the courage when scared.
It is the helping hand needed to understand why things are the way they appear.
The key to uncovering our true selves resides in the power we have to create our own experiences.
Our experiences are ruled by faith of the unknown and our faith of what we know to be true
What happened to our love?
It used to be so bright
Loving, laughing, caring
Then soon caught the night
You were my one and only love
Cared for you too much
Then something happened
And slept with that man
You deceived me
I never felt so desperate
But I try to forgive you now
And try not to think about before
I love you so much
It just hurts to ponder now
Everything I have
Is because of you
Everything I bought
Was because of you
I just love you so much
I’m scared to lose you
What do you want from me?
Do you want my love?
Or do you want my friendship?
You confuse me through what you say
You say you love me
But don’t seem to care
Why don’t we just be friends?
Nothing more
Nothing less
Perhaps you still have feelings for me
But why don’t you show them?
Why must you hurt me this way?
I still love you
But I just want to know
Do you feel the same?
Well maybe now I should just say goodbye
You used to be my friend
But I never felt I really was yours
So maybe this is the end.
I’m different from you, all of you
Each other we’ve never understood
I hope that if I do tell you goodbye
That it won’t be for good.
Whenever I’m mad it hurts me so bad
And you don’t even care
I don’t know why, I just want to cry
And someday I won’t be there.
The streaks on my arm they’ve done me no harm
They’re only made of pen
But once they are blood that turns brown like mud
They’ll be there again and again.
If I’m mad at you I’ll hurt myself too
But that doesn’t really matter
Although when I hurt I feel like dirt
And my spirit’s bruised and battered.
I do not know why it has to be so
I really wish it did not
But the way this has been going
it is basically shot.
You don’t need me and we don’t need we
And that’s how I think I know why
These words are the ones I have to speak-
I love you, but goodbye.
