Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Cetra Reunion ❯ Angelic Memory ( Prologue )

The sun was setting slowly in the west and in its progress, cast its warm caressing rays across the vista that only a god could behold. A valley, deep in age set beyond a mystic forest locked by song. An ancient harps rhyme could stir it to life and it had been done before, within the listening range of Bone Village. Those who had heard it had been sent to sleep whilst the forest had been stirred to life. Now, once again, hard and rough looking men, soiled from the excavations they had been carrying out, were resting on the ground, some standing against their shovels, snoring a symphony of fitful rest to the heavens. The forest was awash in the afternoon sunlight and swayed to the tune it had just been played. A man had been through here and the Earth Harp he had used to awaken the forest had been carelessly cast aside, under the bough of a great oak to rest until it could be retrieved. The afternoon shadows played across the ground, dancing in time to the trees. They sang of life, of what had been and of what was to come.

The battered form of an old frail man limped down through the narrow ravine, lined on either side by high cliffs full of glistening coral that reflected the golden sunlight in a rainbow spectrum that dazzled, but to which the man paid no heed. Large stalks made of what could only be distinguished as pearl, rose to the light on either side of the ravine, amidst the cliffs and beyond in the small clearing set away from the rest of the ancient city which had not seen life in years. Delicate crystal branches reached over the narrow passage, casting it into shadows and allowing light to filter through and dance a silent waltz.

The man slowed as he approached the crystal blue lake in the center of the clearing. Beyond it and reaching half into the water was a large spiraled shell with lengths of its brittle material stretching forth at set intervals perhaps to provide a way to climb to the top of the shell in ages past, but now it lay half in a stage of decay. The shell had once served as the great hall for the Ancients - the Cetra, an ancient race who had pledged to protect this dying world. He moved slowly to the waters edge, feeling it wash in and out over the sand below his feet in a steady cadence. Kneeling beside the water he viewed his reflection solemnly, it had been awhile since he had seen it. A face worn by the sun and weather, ravaged by time was shown to him. A face which had seen many things and was contorted so much from it that it could not be reset. A mat of gray spindly hair rose from his head, dirty and matted, it could have done with a wash, but not here. His deep blue eyes were full of wisdom, under a withered and wrinkled brow which held little of his grey narrow eyebrows. His nose was set in a thin straight direction which rested over lips both parched and raw. He shook his head slowly, closing his eyes as he feared to look at his reflection anymore. A monacle rested before his right eye, his best eye, though the lens was broken and the brass frame was morphed beyond recognition. Why he wore it still were of reasons out of habit and that the monacle itself was a present given him long ago by Ifalna, one of his test subjects and his wife. He drew back and cupped his hands to collect some water, drawing it and splashing it over his face. It felt cold and refreshing and he winced at the feel of it. The man stood and looked around once, before drawing back the sleeve of his white lab coat which was now dirty, torn and soiled beyond recognition. Upon his left wrist was an armlet made of iron which dully caught the light upon its surface. The armlet had also been a gift from Ifalna and contained five cavities set at an equal distance around the circumference of the wrist guard of which could be inserted with Materia, magical orbs of power.

He reached into his left coat pocket and drew forth a small, round purple translucant orb. The only one of its kind he had and the only orb he possesed. He inserted it slowly into one of the five cavities and the armlet embraced it as if it was a child. The orb began to glow faintly as it was locked into place by the armlets power. The man lowered his thin frail arm and allowed the sleeve to fall back into place. With one more look around, and being satisfied with the results, he moved out onto a small rock shelf in the lake that reached to its center. The water was cold and the man's clothes instantly got wet, but he shrugged the cold away as if it were nothing. He knew that he had only twenty minutes to complete what he must. That was to retrieve something lost to him in the depths of the lake. Bungenhagen had left him a letter at Cosmo Canyon informing him that this was where his prize lay, what he sought for was here. The Materia in his armlet allowed him the twenty minutes underwater. He could breathe the water as if it was air for the alloted time, but for no longer. There was no time to take in the sights of whatever lay in the depths.

He muttered to himself before taking a deep breath as a precaution and stepping out, off the rock shelf.

"My beloved daughter, I am coming for you."

The water closed about him as his battered form began its decent to the depths of the lake. Slowly he began the agonising decent and wait which one had taken before him, though in death. He released his breath and took a small, shallow one of the water, slowly growing to larger, more efficiant ones upon the realisation of his safety and the reality that he really could breath the water. It was a strange sensation, the water would be breathed up his nose and almost immedietly the Materia would turn it into breathable air.

The man looked around the watery tomb which his daughter, his prize, lay. He found its beauty to match that of the valley it lay in and that came as no real suprise. Glimmering coral reflected the little light that penetrated the surface of the water, and reflected it in a rainbow of colour which danced through the blueness. Many fish swam among dancing seaweed which swayed as if in greeting to the scientist. The man smiled, though his daughter was dead, at least she rested in a place of beauty.

As he touched the bottom his smile dissapeared. Afew feet from where he stood, lay the still and pale form of his daughter, a small but exuberant girl of many wonders. A frown played across his face as he inwardly cried for this girl who he had never really had the chance to know.

Damn the Shinra and their allies! he thought.

He knelt beside her and silently wept, gathering her into his arms as he did so.

Her chestnut hair flew around her small body and her arms and legs fell away, lifeless. He had not much more time to stray down here, so before taking the time to get a good look at his daughter, he stabilised himself and pushed off the ground with great force that propelled him to the surface. Defying the strength his body would have been able to manage under normal conditions, the thin and sickly looking man reached the surface of the water and burst through to take in a great gulp of air. He kicked over to the rock shelf and stumbled out of the lake, onto the shore. He placed his daughter on the ground before him and took a moment to brush the stray strands of hair out of her calm pale face. Her eyes were closed and har face looked as if she were at peace. She had delicate features, a small nose and small rosebud lips which now were pale and drawn. She seemed fatigued, but that was to be expected, since she was dead. A large tear went across her belly parallel to a tear in the back of her pink dress, showing that she had been run through with some type of long blade. A bangle of gold still adorned her right wrist and her brown leather boots were still upon her feet, though they reeked from being under the water for so long. The man knelt beside her and refixed his equipment, moving the Materia back to his pocket. He looked upon her once more and spoke.

"Aeris, I will bring you back to me. Just relax, and in time you will be my daughter once more. The one who has taken you away from me will pay dearly. And the Shinra will fall for reducing I, Proffesor Gast, to a mere old beggar!"

With that he gathered her in his arms once more and lumbered out of the valley, and back to the nearby Bone Village.