Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Cetra Reunion ❯ Renewel of Dissonance ( Chapter 4 )

The light pierced the darkened nerves of his frail mind, like a hot knife through flesh. His senses stirred and spun as his head collected the broken pieces together, in his mind. They were pieced together, bit by bit, like a string of events, or a large jigsaw puzzle. Pain flushed through his mind and his body, as it did so, torturing the very essence of his life. His hands clenched and uncleanched, his toes wriggled and sweat ran in rivers off his fair brow. On the mend, his eyes slowly opened and he struggled to sit up. Even in the worst times, he cared about himself, and brushed a frail hand through his bright blonde hair. His cold blue eyes, now more pale than icy scanned his surrondings as he propped himself up against the pillows at his back, allowing the sheet to fall to his lap, revealing the fine contours of his torso.

Everywhere was blue, resembling his eyes. Blue curtains, blue carpet, blue rugs and even blue sheets. He struggled against the throbbing pain in his mind, to adjust to the warm summer light that streamed in through a large open window. A soft, gentle breeze blew in, from the sea, sending the curtains sailing and giving him a sense of renewel, of life and mind. It cooled the sweat on his body, drying it to his chest, and forehead, yet still glistening in the early morning light.

A light click and the door opening, alerted him to another presence, and he brushed his hand again through his hair self-consciously, hoping that he still was appealing to the eyes of all. The darkness beyond the opening admitted a short, plump man with greying hair. He carried a silver platter on which rested a tea pot, two porcelain tea cups on saucers, a silver milk jug, a small plate piled with sugar lumps, and some silver tea spoons. He closed the door with the back of his foot, and shuffled to the table, beside the bed, placing the tray upon it. His eyes scanned the room for somewhere to sit, and found a richly carved, laurel designed wooden chair. He quickly collected it and bought it over to sit beside his president.

As he sat, his hands moved to the platter and he began to work. His chubby hand grabbed one of the delicate cups, and he gently placed the sugar within. The tea followed, after he spun the pot three times to mix the flavour through the water. Milk was last, and was stirred in with finesse and ease. His grey eyes looked up and finally found his boss' as he handed him the small cup and worked at making his own tea. The man took it in his hands, saucer and tea cup. His pale lips found the rim of the cup and took a small sip, being scalded for the rashness and swiftness of him drinking the hot beverage. He lowered the saucer and cup back onto the table beside him, before collecting his words in an effort to speak.

"Thankyou Palmer" he told his chubby subservient.

"It is my pleasure Mr. Rufus" he replied, cheerily, a little to Rufus' distaste. "I am only glad to see you safe and well, after the accident."

Rufus remembered it now, and raised his arms in front of his face, his eyes tracing out the scars along his once perfect arms. His hands turned to run over his defined chest and stomach, both smooth, but for the scars that burnt there too. He hated himself now, for how he now appeared. He placed his face into his hands, scrubbing them down his smooth skin. Oh, how he abhorred himself now. It was beyond a doubt that he would never be able to attract another to his bed again. His days of romance and love were over.

"Where is Scarlett and Heideggar?" his scratchy voice came out, still a little weak.

Palmer looked sheepish as he figited with the small silver buttons on the cuff of his sleeves. "They are both dead, sir. Cloud killed them, along with the Proud Clod."

Rufus' eyes narrowed upon the mention of his nemisis. How he hated that blonde haired man so. Had he the strength in his arms, his teacup would be sailing across the room, to slam into the wall and shatter into a million jagged pieces. His frustration was vented only by taking another sip of the hot scalding tea.

"You know how much gil went into that project?" he asked Palmer, with a little more strength to his voice as he set the cup back to saucer.

Palmer's eyes darted around the room, never staying in one position as he brought forth his meek words.

"Yes sir, alot."

"Those fools just cost me more time and effort than they were worth! Useless puppets, they deserved what they got! What about Midgar?" He asked, with his voice growing stronger by the minute. Maybe as a result of the tea.

"Rubble." Palmer replied, looking away.

Rufus brushed a hand through his hair once more. "Well where am I?"

"Junon"

"How does it fair?"

"The Sister Ray is gone, and inoperable. Damage to the prison sector has been so severe that it would have to be removed. The shutters took on most of the damage from Weapon, so are damaged too, but the houses and buildings are fine. Most repairs that need doing are minor, but will cost gil." Palmer laid out the report for Rufus.

Rufus considered the words then responded with authority. "Do it!"

Palmer nodded as he began to pack up the tea cups, after they were finished. Before he left the room, Rufus asked one more thing. "Who rescued me?"

"Lieutenant John, sir. From Sector 7." Came his cheery reply.

"Send him in!" Rufus demanded, his voice back to normal.

"Yes, sir! At once!" Palmer scurried out of the room, nearly dropping the tray. But before he reached the door Rufus' voice penetrated his ears again.

"Oh, and Palmer? While you are at it, wipe that silly grin off your face, would you?"