Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Por Siempre ❯ Tithe's Tandem, Part I ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Por Siempre is a Spanish term, either meaning "forever" "for always" or "always."

These drabbles will focus on some AU's, poetry, some comedy, and some dark-themed stories---without rape and all of the terrible things that occur in this fandom, I promise---that center on the intimacy and love that this pairing has the potential to have. I'm playing around with POV, theme, symbolism, and a lot of plot in these stories. This particular story is versed through multiple POV shifts, merely to give it a "fantasy" feel.

This is one of the sadder drabbles with tragedy and an unshakable doom. I have some happy stories planned, two for dear friends of mine for this collection, but for now, this is one of the more tragic pieces. If you like fairy-tales, you might find it to your liking. Part 1 of 2. The next chapter will have M rated themes, whereas this one is mainly featured on friendship.

EDIT: 12/15/11 It has taken me how long to add part 2? If any of you are still with me, never fear, I have not lost the motivation for this pairing. I found my muse once more, and I will complete this story, and several more stories to this collection on this beautiful pairing.

I adore you for sticking around for the ending of this small fairy-tale/legend I have crafted.

I own nothing, nor will I ever. MOM Cloud and Sephiroth are finally pleased that I am adding to the end of this story.
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"For, if I imp my wings on thine

Affliction shall advance flight in me." George Herbert, Easter Wing

Tithe’s Tandem, Part 1

The world was created in a cataclysm of fire and ice, of star-glow and eternal daybreak. The creation housed beings of life, life and suffering that would exist for the epitome of existence itself. There was love, there was hate. There was war, there was endless greed. But above all, there was a law passed that dictated the very fabric of the universe. It was the creed of the stars and the skies, a decree that was an ever-present part of life. It stated that upon the passing of two generations, there would be a sacrifice. It would be in blood, in spirit, and in the very life-force that emanated and thrived in two young men.

The first boy was from the land of the stars and skies. He was born, and on the day of his birth, his cries echoed throughout the heavens, making the celestial entities that housed their bodies in gases and balls of fire weep for joy. He would be the one to spare the skies, their very bodies, and eventually, he would become one of them when he passed on. To bless him, they marked him as one of their own. They turned the ebony-colored hair he was born with into the shade of the stars: stark-white. His eyes opened, and they were clear peridot, the shade of twilight that was only known in some of the outer realms. He was intelligent, extremely brave since early boyhood, and a better warrior than an amalgam of the men in the land. Also, he was the most powerful of them all. He could control the tempest at will, call forth rain or sunlight, whirl-winds or calm breezes with the rising of his hands, and the speed of his lips.

In addition, he could commune with the stars, and learn their secrets, their stories. Those flashing lights came to him in his dreams, speaking tales about the days of old, of legends that were long since forgotten. As cause, he was granted a black wing on his right shoulder, the appendage of flight coming out when he communed with the celestial beings that he would one day belong with. This blessing of strength and abilities was for a reason however: he was to be one of two young men that would be sacrificed. His life would be forfeited when he came of age, when his powers were at their peak.

The other boy was from the islands of the land and seas. When he was born, the sunrise burst over the water, illuminating the ocean with golden hues. The water itself heard his birthing wails, and it blessed him with hair the color of the gilded daybreak, with eyes the shade of the deep cerulean of the oceans he would one day command. His skin was the tint of the sun-baked sands, and his voice would one day be as forceful as the crashing of a tidal wave.

The boon in his life came from controlling the waters, the ocean in its entirety. If he lifted his arms, he could command the waves to rise to their full force, and destroy his very homeland. Or, he could purge it from a great gale that was coming, like he had done in his youth. Also, the lands were his to use. With his voice, he urged the vines to burst forth from the ground, spinning and spiraling towards the earth's crust. From his voice, the crops were plentiful, and there was plenty to eat throughout the islands. Like his contrast in this life, he had a great white wing on his left shoulder, one that was twice the expansion of his arms. Though by reason he should have not been able to fly with only one wing, soar he did, diving through the clouds that he was named after, soaring deeper and deeper into the skies, towards the sunlight that he was in part created with.

Both boys knew of their fates. When they were born, from the time that they could have a comprehension of death, of sacrifice, they felt the end approaching. There was inevitability in their hearts, a notion of a finality that would extirpate all of the affliction in their world. It was how their universe was governed:by a tithe that would kill, strip, and end their lives. The power that was within them, when they came into their Golden Years, would be released, and they would be reborn as the elements they controlled, which would result in the healing of the world.

From this austere act, the elements they commanded would know peace. No universe was created without any type of blood-shed, nor would it be fueled by anything but the power of those two sons. There was equilibrium: life and death, side by side.

The young man from the land of the skies and stars was named Sephiroth. He was given that name by the gods themselves, for once his soul passed on into the next realm, the next plane of existence, he would exist there with seven wings, as a guardian spirit in the Lifestream. The younger man from the islands was named Cloud, for his moods were transient, harsh, but filled with passion towards everything that he cherished. He fostered a deep love for his friends and family, and would do anything in his power to protect them. When he died, his spirit would encompass the gulf of the seas and the lands, marking him as an eternal protector of the elements he could control.

Once a year, their families would take them to a sacred temple, a holy place where they could commune with the Planets themselves. Sephiroth was clothed with a long silk robe, fashioned only from the thickest of spider's silk. It was black in color, and on the sleeves and back, there was a stunning array of white dots, a decoration that was created to make the garment appear as if he had stars on his back and arms. Long mercurial hair was pulled back from his face by a thick black ribbon, and as consequence only added to the intensity of his green-gaze.

Cloud was placed in a similar garment, a sacred cloth that was dyed to match the color of his eyes. When the boy walked, it appeared as if the waves of the ocean were on his legs, pooling around his hips with the liquidity of his movements. On the back, there was an emblem of a sun, a large billowing flame that matched the sunshine gold of his hair.

The temple was large in size, a gargantuan bulk of a building. The exterior of the building was layered with fresco and mica, giving the shrine the appearance of a polished and glittering stone. The steps themselves were created by the earth; only the two young boys could walk up to this temple and meditate. Any other human who tried would be cursed from the land, for it was only meant for those two to tread on; anything less was a form of blasphemy.

Neither of these two boys had met before. They knew that they had a counterpart in this sacrifice, a partner who would go through the same thing they had to. Theirs wouldn't be a duty they would need to shoulder alone.

Sephiroth entered from the right side of the sacred grounds, and Cloud on the left. Both boys took a deep breath, braced themselves, and began the steady incline up into the tabernacle. Thousands of scenarios flashed through their minds, and in their haste and apprehension to meet one another, they pictured a myriad of examples, their minds racing with possibility.

‘Is my equal tall, or short? Do they have anything to eat? And above all, do they fear as I do?’

The doors opened automatically, for the land expected them. Wood creaked, sunlight billowed through the rectangular openings in the structure, and the boys met at last. They were two yards away, but even with the distance separating them, their eyes missed nothing. Sapphire eyes raked in the sight of pewter bangs, peridot eyes, and incredible height and power. Jade eyes observed the appearance of sun-drenched hair, an ineffable strength, as well as a barely-there smile, the transience of the clouds themselves.

Twin pairs of footfalls echoed around the space, and after a few moments, they were at each others sides. In silence, the two boys took in the sights of the room. The floors were covered in a red satin lining, almost as if it was supposed to represent the blood that they would indubitably shed later on in their lives. There were pillows for their knees and legs when it came time to worship, and legend stated that they were filled with feathers from heavenly beings. Two chalices had been placed at the face of the room and whenever the boys thirsted, it would fill first with water to quench their parched mouths, and then with wine, a wine that procured mental clarity. There would be no food however, for the connection with the Planets only worked if one fasted.

Then, ever so slightly, both boys turned to look at their spiritual duplicate. Each took in the features of the other, watching for any sudden movements. This was the one they would die with, the one they would share a life with. The sacrifice they would share, the giving of their lives would bond them deeper than blood ever dared run. Still, everything about the other was foreign, alien.

"What is your name?" The younger of the pair swallowed, and the oldest secretly wondered if he had done wrong by asking, by personalizing the day.

"Cloud." A transitory smile flickered over Sephiroth's face. "What's yours?"

"Sephiroth." Both boys nodded to one another, took a drink from the chalice, and fell to their knees on the pillows. They knew the chants, the sacred mantra they needed to recite. The language sounded to the naked human ear like a huge cacophony of frayed music notes, like strings on instruments that had long since been stripped of their lustrous sound. However, to their ears, the words were a euphony, a delight to the aural cavities. No one else could hear the beauty in the language. Only the martyrs could hear beauty.

After nearly an hour of chanting, singing, and lightly humming, the visions began. Sephiroth felt as if his soul had been stripped bare of any mortal restraints, and he allowed himself to let go, to be free from his body. This was supposed to happen he knew, for in order to truly commune with the Planets, he would have to be liberated from his flesh. Behind his eyelids, he saw hundreds of blurred images, fragments of light and sound that made no sense. There was the twirling and entwining lights of the Lifestream, the flashing pinpoints of radiance deep in the furthest reaches of space. There was also fire, a great pyre of lapping flames against his skin, tingling his pores with true heat. He could hear battle cries from aching throats, and smell the scent of perspiration and blood in the air. He was seeing both violence, and the outcome from the position of the afterlife.

For Cloud, the sights were more enjoyable. He pictured himself sailing in-between the clouds, deep within the folds of the skies themselves. It was as if the sapphire firmament was splitting open, spilling and spreading, just for him. The heavens beckoned him towards their grip, and he felt moisture on his cheeks, the joy of being accepted into a place greater than the life he knew. He was at peace.

Then, the vision became more violent. The breath was stolen from his lungs, locked into a chest that knew no key. Water flowed into his lungs, and the currents that he could have commanded by his volition betrayed him. The oceans now desired nothing more than his death, than the demise of their ruler.

Both boys lurched forward in their own internal agonies, groaning from the spiritual pain of their sensory visions. It was the furthest thing from an imaginary affliction. What they were witnessing and experiencing was part of the birth of the Planets: wars, fire, the clash of water forming the lands, and the interminable stretch of blue skies.

Sweat beaded their foreheads, fear clamped their hearts, and several hours passed in the same cycle. Sephiroth felt what Cloud felt: the sensation of drowning. In return, Cloud perceived the intensity of getting devoured by fire, lashed by the torrent of flames. Cold and heat flushed their skin, and finally, when both boys felt they could take it no longer, they awakened.

Sephiroth was the first to stand. His knees knocked together, but he forced his legs to remain ramrod-straight. Just because his company was like him, didn't mean he trusted him with any implication of weakness. He walked to the mica-encased table and procured the two goblets, now filled with the richest of wines.

Cautiously, he knelt at Cloud's level, and placed the chalice into the younger boy’s trembling hands. Lapis eyes locked onto his own, and there was a spark that even the core of the earth felt. It was as if Sephiroth was locking eyes onto a similar creature, towards a being that knew him more than he did himself. They were two of a kind, not foreign and too different like they had once assumed.

A small pink mouth parted and thousands of pointless metaphors came to mind. The goblet’s contents were downed within three mighty gulps. A bit of wine spilled down Cloud's neck and chin, and the fires of lust themselves urged Sephiroth to wipe them away, clean the boy with his tongue. Then, the monster of rationale surfaced, and Sephiroth wondered if the enlightenment had gone to his head.

"Are you alright?" Sephiroth looked down at the boy, bent his legs, and sat next to him.

"Better, now that it is over. And yourself? How do you fare?" Both knew that what they felt couldn't be expressed in words. However, neither knew the next time they would see one another. They were one another's twin, a contrast that only resulted in a soul-deep connection that was undeniable. Both had the choice to remain quiet about what they experienced. But silence never deepened bonds.

"I'm...scared." The word echoed around the ancient hallway, and the pitch seemed to make the walls tremor. The syllables and sound the word created made both boys shiver with the memory of what they had seen. Fear was a part of their life.

"Why?" Sephiroth stood up, took Cloud's chalice, and set it back on the table. "It's our duty; we are to be killed, and then we'll live as guardian spirits. There's no fear to be had here." Cloud's brow furrowed and his lips formed with the ghost of a pout. The gesture made the ocean many leagues away stir, as if in laughter, for they knew that their master was struggling with his words.

The words came to Cloud and once they were spoken, there was room for both judgment and understanding depending on how Sephiroth received it. "I'm scared though. Of dying. I don't want to leave everything." The admittance was hushed, almost muted by Cloud's obvious consternation.

This puzzled the eldest boy. There was never any fear in his mind of dying. It would be painful at first and then he would know bliss. Still, deep in his body there was the urge, the overwhelming longing to help Cloud see that. In this rare moment of confession, Sephiroth would say anything to make Cloud feel brave, not so scared. "We'll leave this world together." Cloud looked up at him, and Sephiroth saw, tears welling in the younger boy’s eyes, tears that spilled down his cheeks.

After a pregnant pause, Cloud replied."Together? I barely know you." That was the deepest truth, for neither boy had met the other before today. They were told stories about their partner in this sacrifice, from physical appearances to their internal powers. But never were they told that it was alright to truly know the other, for there to be friendship and a bond outside a platonic nature.

Chagrin made them both look at separate parts of the temple. Sephiroth focused on the skies outside of the rectangular shaped spaces in the walls, watching the thick pale clouds billow from the seas. Cloud picked at part of the cushion, and then stopped himself in mid-motion. Both of them raised their heads at the same time, meeting one another’s eyes.

"Do you want to know me?" Sephiroth focused his eyes on the younger boy, raising his brow to the inquiry. "You heard me. Do you want to know me, Sephiroth?"

Both of them had friends and were very loved by their families. However, deep within their minds, they knew that there was a high level of detachment towards those people. None of their friends or family members knew what it would be like to die for the sake of the worlds. There was never someone with whom they could truly relate, no matter how much they cherished their company.

There was no second-guessing, or any doubts; both of them wanted to know each other.

"Yes. We're both special; special people need to stay together." Sephiroth extended his hand towards the boy, a small smile gracing his features. "Friends?"

After a moment of inaction, Cloud accepted the offered hand. "Yeah, friends."

cscscscscs

The second time they met was one year later to the date. They arrived towards the temple for the intention of gaining a higher degree of insight, a deeper level than they had before. During this year, both Cloud and Sephiroth received permission to write to one another, on thick layers of parchment. At first, all they discussed were surface level occurrences, from how their day had been, to something interesting that happened in their home life, or with their friends.

Then, after the passing of a few months, heavier topics were covered. Cloud confided, with ink and paper, how sometimes he felt as if he would get consumed by his abilities. He feared that one day, he would grow so strong that he would feel disconnected to all humanity, and long to overthrow it. He hated getting called special, a privileged young man, for he didn't think death was a benefit. Life was the prize, having the ability to be called normal.

To this, Sephiroth was touched. In return, he told Cloud how he sometimes feared the stars would take him in his sleep. He feared sailing the cosmos without saying goodbye to those few who he dared confide in. Two of his friends knew each other better than he did, and sometimes, he fretted that jealousy would come over him, tightening around his heart until all he knew was envy. His fear then, the ultimate terror in his body, was in feeling better than mankind, in an incurable hubris.

Once those confessions were made, the onslaught of fear defeated, a more profound connection was made. There was much more that was revealed after that, revealed only to one another through their writings.  Every other letter was spent in an admittance so deep, at times, it stunned the writer. Tears mixed in with the ink, in pure and utter relief at having someone to talk to about the calling of their lives, about the very notion of destiny

Sometimes, Sephiroth wrote, it seems like you're the only one who understands me.

To which, Cloud replied in his slanted hand: You’re the only one who understands what I go through, for I go through it with you.

A year passed, a year of spending time with their families, testing their abilities, and reaffirming their bond with their letters. Their parents didn't mind that the two boys were growing closer, for in their eyes, it was a way to make their sons happy, satisfied with a life that would be taken from them all too soon. The Planets themselves smiled on this friendship as well, smiles gracing the faces of gods and goddesses alike. Approval was secured on their bond.

The temple was sighted, and both boys ran up the steps to greet their friend. One year ago, neither would have dreamed of making a friend, or of running in excitement towards their fate.

Two pairs of eyes, one the color of shimmering blue topaz, and the other the shade of malachite met. All of the hundreds of thousands of words crashed around their bodies, and for a moment, embarrassment filled their hearts. Who were they to push all of their worries and burdens on another?

Then, there was only acceptance afterwards. Sephiroth walked forward, bowed his head, and there was no hiding his elation. "Pleasure to see you again, Cloud." Cloud chuckled at the gesture, nodding all the while.

"Likewise. How are you?" Before, they had been complete strangers, two young boys who knew nothing of the other. Now, within a years time, and well over a hundred letters, large scrolls with their flowing scripts and barrage of emotions, they knew so much more about the other.

There was no need to guard their emotions, their true thoughts any longer. "I'm happy to see you once again. Howbeit, I fear what we may encounter in our sights." Cloud once asked Sephiroth why he spoke the way that he did, with such eloquence that was commonplace on his tongue. Sephiroth replied that he spent so much time communicating with the heavens that he used the way that the celestial entities spoke. It gave the older boy regality, the language that made him sound like a prince.

After a good few moments passed, Cloud responded to Sephiroth's words. "I wanted to see you. I want to visit you soon, if my mother will let me." There was a single note of veracity in the air, a humming interval of honesty that sung of a complete and total openness of their souls. "And I'll be here. I'm braver now. I'll take care of you."

Sephiroth's laughter rang through the air, for Cloud was two years younger than him. However, the stars thought with a smile, the eldest was speculating that having someone take care of him was the most touching idea he had ever heard.

"And I you. I will make sure of it that I will be allowed a visit. One year is far too long to spend without the presence of the sky." Sky. It was a small nickname Sephiroth came up with for Cloud when they were becoming friends, deeper friends than both could have ever dared dream of. He joked once in jest, that since he was named after part of the skies, he would do well to accept the nickname bestowed upon him. Inwardly, Cloud loved it, for he had never before had a pet-name. Outwardly however, he shied away from reveling in how connected it made him feel.

After a few more minutes of talking, communing with someone who they never thought would exist, much less be their friend, they at last noticed what the other was wearing. Sephiroth was in a richer fabric than before, an obsidian cloak dotted with white multitudes of artistic stars. Cloud was in an aquamarine cover, with inlaid designs around his ankles. There were feathery tufts of white in the material, symbolizing clouds and the storms he could command at a moment's notice. Inwardly, both boys thought that the other looked stunning.

"Come now. Let us listen." Sephiroth walked towards the polished table, the table that held the chalices. This year, the cups gleamed with a chrome finish, as if marking the dawn of their Silver Years. They were now in their budding adulthood, Sephiroth being the age of fifteen summers, and Cloud on his thirteenth. Within ten years time, they would both be offered to the Planets.

Both boys took a seat on the cushions, closed their eyes, and took great comfort in the fact that they were not as alone as they once had been. Their mouths opened, and they sung those familiar words with more vigor, with more hope than they ever dreamed of having within their bodies, much less their voices. They were not alone.

The visions came, swift and sound. In them, Cloud found himself soaring skyward, invited by the allure and brilliance of the stars themselves. He heard a lilt in the air, a song that coaxed his eardrums, soothed his spirit, and made him throw back his head in jubilation. The stars were singing to him, telling him tales and stories of the days where mankind was nothing but a legend for the future, where the worlds were nothing more than limpid pools of rock, ice, and magma.

Sephiroth felt something similar. In his foresight, he saw stunning arrays of ocean water, large ripples on the currents, and the ivory foam of the tidal waves. The sea beckoned him, and he took a proverbial plunge beneath the surface of the waters. It was as if he was floating on his back, and was suddenly swept underneath, fully with the capability of breath. The sunlight shimmered, pure and iridescent, a golden streamer through the seas that revealed a liquid threshold, separating himself from the land dwellers for a few moments. The waves rocked him back and forth, soothing him the way a mother would her child in a rocking chair.

There was no hint of pain, no crushing spate of torment from the visions. All was calm, and all could be endured.

Two pairs of eyes opened, and there was no hiding the glee after the visions.

"I thought I was going to see...I don't know...what I saw last time." Cloud had told Sephiroth what he had experienced the first time he encountered this temple: the gargantuan pull of the waves, the interminable force of the waters, drowning him. In return, Sephiroth spoke of what he endured: the great gale of fire, the blazing storm that nearly consumed him.

"That was our fear speaking." Sephiroth stood up on steady legs, fully with the capability of strength. "Company lessens the terrors of our visions." With an assured gait, Sephiroth walked towards the table, procured the two chalices, and handed one to Cloud.

Dark gold lashes parted, and blue opalescent eyes dilated. "T-thanks." The stars chuckled a bit, for they knew that their student of the skies was confused. Sephiroth was not used to people thanking him for such simple things, such as his company, or in handing someone who he considered a friend a drink.

"Whatever for?" Cloud raised his glass, and the innocence on his face was undisguised.

"For being my friend. Being here. And for writing to me." Cloud raised his glass, and Sephiroth's movements matched his own.

"A toast is in order then." The ever-fleeting smile flashed across his face, and for a moment, it lingered there, paused in time by the young one in his sight. "To living." The tip of the grail tapped its double, and the small sound resonated throughout the room. "To valor, existence, and friendship."

Cloud's brow furrowed, and the waves lapped at the shore several leagues away, confused at their master’s consternation. Then, their sovereign understood Sephiroth's words. "To friendship, understanding, and to new meetings." Both boys downed their cups, refilled them several times more, and cherished the afternoon with one another.

When the sun slipped behind the ocean, their parents arrived for them. Upon the sunset’s arrival, the time for spiritual insight ended. Both families were bombarded with words on how much fun they had, and how much they longed to see their friend again. That was a rarity, the delight on their faces. The parents of this tithe knew that their children sacrificed their personal happiness and gains for the entire world. Meaning, they would do almost anything to satisfy their children for the little time that they had with them.

The societal claims on such a friendship were vague at best. It was dictated, in the endless laws, that there would never be any withholding of a connection between the two boys, whoever they were. They were of the same creature, and would endure the same ending to their lives. Thus, there was no reason why they couldn't become friends. It was unheard of, but it wasn't taboo.

"Alright Cloud, he can come." The oceans would forever know of the moment when his mother agreed to let his friend come to their islands.

"Certainly Sephiroth. Have fun with your friend." Sephiroth's mother tousled her son’s hair in the way that he loved, and she saw him off.

The first time Sephiroth arrived, there was evident proof of the strangeness of this friendship. Everyone on the island was extremely kind to him, all of the villagers greeting him as if he had lived there his entire life, along with the way Cloud's family welcomed him with open arms. However, there was no denying that there was a distinguishable air that the island put on. It was as if they were afraid of upsetting him, of upsetting the one who would at some point, become one with the skies. They tiptoed around him, and left Cloud to his guest. The oceans knew, that the island-folk wanted to give the hero of the islands some time with someone who he cherished. The stars nodded to this, knowing that in their minds, they considered it the least they could do to the child who would give his life for their children's children.

Despite how everyone tip-toed around Sephiroth, there was no hiding the friendship the two shared. Cloud introduced Sephiroth to his world, from the entirety of his small home he shared with his mother and father, to every single friend he had made on the island. Sephiroth was allowed to stay in the one spare room that the family had, and for that, he bowed his head and thanked Cloud's parents, as well as the gods for blessing him with a room over his head, and for a friend whom he could enjoy the company of.

On the third day, Sephiroth found himself awoken at the brink of dawn by an excited Cloud. His friend had a fever in his eyes, an ecstatic frenzy covering his features. "Come on! I want to show you something!" In their haste and in only their sleep clothes, Sephiroth complied to the younger boy's request, no matter how puerile it seemed.

Out the back door, down the wet-soiled path, and through a cluster of wet branches and leaves found the two boys at their destination: the sea. The sight always managed to take away Sephiroth's breath. Here was true clarity. The sea would rise and fall, like the myriad of emotions man had the capability of feeling, much less acting on. The oceans could stir up a lashing storm, one that could obliterate anything in its path: whole islands, homes, families, all ripped asunder. Contrary wise, the sea could be calm, a polished lapis surface of clarity. It was here the sun chose to shine its light, gleaming down on the heavens he would one day be a part of. In some of his dreams, he found himself looking down on the world with a Divine eye, cherishing all in his sight. He saw the lands, the rich green earth that was bursting forward with new, thriving life. Also, he saw the seas, the glittering blue topaz of the oceans in his eyes. The color was magnificent, awe-inspiring.

All of that clarity was shattered the moment Cloud ran into the seas. There was inextinguishable delight on Cloud's face, a mirth that reached his azure eyes. Here was his friend, in his sleep-wear, throwing himself into the ocean? It was far-fetched, but not out of his friends character to do something impulsive.

"Come on in! I want to show you something!" There was impatience on his features, but there was also doubt. Yes, doubt. Every self-conscious thought that could be seen and transformed into worry could be seen in Cloud's eyes, in his body language. With the way the water began bobbing, gently rising and coasting to the sands, it was apparent the ocean could tell this as well.

It was then, on the day of the third dawn, the two-hundredth day of the Silver Age, that the eldest young man broke his own rules. Sephiroth shrugged, returned Cloud's simpering grin, and walked into the water.

"I'd love to see this something." Cloud grinned at him, closed his eyes, and began making a circular motion with his fingers. Within several moments, all of the water around him began to swirl, changing into the smallest whirlpool. He stretched out his palm, and the liquid tornado rose into his outstretched fingers. Cloud now held a storm in his hands.

"Open your hands." Sephiroth did as he was told, and within a moment, found himself in thrall of the cyclone in his grip. "Isn't that cool? I could do that to anything...but I never will. I like to chase the storms away though." Sephiroth chuckled, and the timbre was deep for a boy of fifteen.

"You're extremely powerful. We both are. We're different, special." Sephiroth watched the ocean-made funnel turn into nothing but a puddle of water, and he released it through his splayed fingertips. It was good to release things once you were done with them Sephiroth always knew. "I am gracious that you showed this to me. I would be lying to you if I said that I was not curious about your abilities."

Cloud shrugged, and fell back into the water, floating back to the surface on his back. The waters teased his hair, making it lie flat around the base of his skull. Deep blue eyes took in everything, those limpid pockets of lapis that knew of his fate. "I wanted to show you. I can do a lot more too, but I don't want to show you yet."

Suddenly, Cloud sat up, startling Sephiroth from his thoughts. Cloud was good at that, at breaking Sephiroth's self-composed reveries. "I know! How's this? Let's make a deal."

Sephiroth raised his brow, wondering where this was going. He could hear the stars whispering, in hushed, sleep-drunk voices, on how it was good to have this child-like wonder. "What sort of deal?"

Cloud looked towards the horizon, and he pointed, closing one eye. With the way that he had fallen in the water, droplets fell in a stippling pattern across his face and neck, shimmering like gold-laced gemstones on his face. "I'll show you everything I can do, right up until...well, that day. Also, would you do the same for me?" It was a question, a hesitant inquiry that lingered in the air, permeating like thick tendrils of smoke. There was no hint of a command in the words, but an incredible vulnerability that touched Sephiroth deeper than he dared admit. Here was a boy that knew him only through letters, and a trio of meetings, and he was willing to make such a deal with him?

Granted, the deal was only on a showcasing of abilities, and nothing more. But there was more to it however. There was an undertone of finality in the wording, a contract in the speech that stated that by doing this for him, he would be under Cloud's ultimate trust. There was no trusting just anyone with their abilities, with their powers over the elements they commanded. In return, there would be his own matter of conviction. He didn't trust easy, for there were too many people out there who would have wanted to use him as some sort of seer, a psychic, or a tool for their own personal uses. He was nobody's tool, or battering ram.

"Whattaya say?" Cloud turned around, and in that brief moment, the limbo between nighttime and dawn, Sephiroth swore his oath to the boy. There would be no one who could harm him, harm the one person who understood him better than anyone ever had before.

"You have my agreement." Sephiroth shook Cloud's hand. "Let's be friends." The word was alien to the both of them, though they knew friends, and had plenty of people to talk with. It was different when you made such an affiliation with someone who understood what you would have to go through in ten years time, a deeper bond created from that truth.

Cloud shook Sephiroth's hand, and grinned wider than Sephiroth had ever seen him smile before. The dawn broke over the surface of the water, setting everything alight in a multi-hued gilded glow. Neither of them, the ocean realized with a toss of its waves, had ever looked happier.

cscscscscs

Two years passed, years that normally would have been spent in a high degree of normalcy. The time would have gone by, regardless of friendships, the inner-will of families, or by the unheard prayers of parents asking to spare their sons. The time passed, but it was not in vain, nor was it wasted.

Cloud's abilities developed over the years, and he was highly praised when he successfully stopped two terrible storms from obliterating the islands. Also, he managed to do this with many places all around the world, sparing all those island-dwellers that made the coast their home from total devastation during the storm seasons.

Also, the crops were always abundant. It was Cloud’s Goddess-given talent to grow anything he liked, and from his touch and volition, flowers and blooms of all colors burst forward from the earth, sprouting thick ropes of emerald green vines in the forests. Crops grew, blight was never a problem, and no one ever knew a word as starvation. The rains were summoned if the land ever thirsted, and the rivulets that came from the heavens were proud to touch the skin of such an innocent creature, of a tender-hearted young man of fifteen.

Sephiroth, to counter, gained plenty of strength over the two years. The skies beckoned him forward, and when the entire world was asleep, he took to the heavens on his raven-colored wing in his longing to be close to the stars he communed with. He found himself a perch on a smooth patch of an alpine, meditating where the clarity of the stars was at its peak. It was there, late one night, where he received a gift from the gods. A thin, lengthy blade lodged itself into the earth, and the stars said that this would be his weapon, for the remaining eight years of his life. It was his choice what he chose to with it. He could battle, spar, and use it to protect. Or, he could choose to destroy all of the evils of mankind that he had been a witness towards. It would never be the latter in his heart, and always the former. He could riposte, parry, and beat the best of them with his weapon. This further added to his peoples' belief that he was their hero.

Neither of the boys, every entity that the two young men controlled knew, would be the same person if they never knew the other however. Cloud and Sephiroth still exchanged letters with zest, communicating at least once a week with the way that the messengers worked. There was no one that dared speak against their friendship, but there were those that whispered of a rebellion occurring, a rebelling of the spirit. What if, those inane voices claimed, the two boys chose to run away? What state would the Planets be in then?

Both of them knew however, that no matter how close they got, or how much they enjoyed living, and simply, being amongst the people whom they had grown up with, that the end would be inevitable. The time to dwell on their duties though wasn’t now.

The two young men spent as much time as they could together, in a friendship that was uncommon and strange, but not forbidden. Cloud showed Sephiroth all of the forests and jungles that surrounded the island, pointing and naming all of the tropical birds and wildlife that they came across.

In return Sephiroth presented his home-lands. He gave Cloud an entire dumbapple on their hike through the mountains, and all of the forests and streams that were known for this land. Only afterwards was Cloud aware that by eating the dumbapple, he was accepting a rare gift, an exotic present just for him.

"Thanks." Sephiroth had been looking to the skies, watching the bands of sunlight filter through the white tree limbs, casting everything in a surreal radiance. Without warning, Sephiroth pivoted on his heel, and both boys found a proximity they never would have acquired normally. For a moment, neither male could find it in themselves to form words. The currents stirred, the stars hushed their voices for that interminable period, and all was silent.

"Why the gratitude, Sky?" Sephiroth still to that day called Cloud "Sky." In return, every now and then Cloud was allowed to shorten Sephiroth's name into "Seph." Secretly however, Cloud always thought that Sephiroth looked very much like a star: a blazing, un-graspable pinpoint of light, silver in inception. The skies held the stars, and since he called him Sky, it was almost as if, with that secret nickname, they were together always.

There was no denying the awe that Cloud felt for Sephiroth at times. There was fortitude about Sephiroth, an unshakable grip on valor, duty and eloquence that he never thought he could possess. Sometimes, Cloud awoke from dreams about jade eyes, and those long tapered fingers running through his hair. Such thoughts were inappropriate when they were about friends.

"I know how rare those were...the ah...dumbapples. And I just tossed the core away." The briefest of smiles lined Sephiroth's lips, and a booming laugh rumbled in his chest. Sephiroth had such a beautiful laugh when he wished to reveal it.

"As far as I know, it's unhealthy to eat an apple core. The seeds could grow in your stomach, and before you knew it, a whole tree would grow out of your ears. We wouldn't want that, now would we?" Sometimes, when Cloud least expected it, Sephiroth would joke around. There were only a few instances where he would do such a thing however. He would do this with his parents, and with the other friends he had made in his life, if he knew them well enough. Sephiroth was a serious enough young man that even smiles were a rarity. Cloud treasured the moments when his friend wasn't so austere.

Sephiroth touched Cloud’s head, peering into his ears, absently stroking the hair on his head. "No vines in your eardrums. That's a good sign." Cloud felt the heat from Sephiroth's hands long after he had released him and his scalp burned from the contact, no matter how brief the caress. In return, Sephiroth would remember the texture of that smooth blond head for days to come.

Cloud ducked his head and hid his flushing face with his hair, hating that he was blushing. Men didn’t blush, only young women did that when they were speaking about the one who they found physically attractive. "Still, thank you. It was good." Sephiroth told him to think nothing of it, that it was what friends would do for one another, giving them gifts, both in the tangible and in the metaphysical.

The days were spent in youthful sublimation, in a calm happiness that knew no end. Even those that didn't truly support Cloud and Sephiroth's friendship and constant companionship had to force back smiles when they saw the both of them racing through the roads, being the playful young souls they should have been. There was no smarm when it was so obvious the two were happy with one another.

The nights however, were different. Upon the promise they had made to one another, Sephiroth showed Cloud one of his abilities. Long after Cloud's parents had fallen asleep, Sephiroth crept into Cloud's room and together, they sat out on the wooden balustrade stretched out on a blanket.

"Please, give me your hands." Cloud willingly extended his hands towards Sephiroth, and the elder accepted them. His fingers made small circular motions on Cloud's knuckles, and the touch made the younger boy shiver inwardly. "Close your eyes, please." Cloud did as he was told, and the after-image was always the same: the image of the skies, the large, overhanging branches, and light-olive eyes, piercing into his thoughts.

"Clear your mind. You are with me, and yet you're not. Open your mind to mine, but never forget where you're sitting. If you get scared, just squeeze my hands. I won't let you slip away." They were each others stronghold, one another's protection in every aspect of their lives.

And just like that, Cloud was greeted with stories. There were tales the likes of which he could never imagine, tales of beauty and great loss, of tragedies and victories that would ignite even the coldest of hearts. With Sephiroth's ability, the power to communicate directly with the stars, he could do a sort of play-by-play of all of the lives and chronicles of those who lived before them. Cloud saw great battles, men fighting with swords against monsters that made him tremble in fear. He saw the creation of the universe, the cosmic clash of fire against the oceans, of magma against the cooling liquid of the seas. Also, he saw whole allegories on love. He saw women falling into the arms of the men they loved, children being born, and endless cycles of fervent natures being acted on, time and time again.

Tonight however, was a different emotion. Instead of only being a witness to everything, he would literally be in the mind and body of the story. Sephiroth gripped his hands, and two pairs of eyelids squeezed shut in dual concentration. The earth tilted, twirled, and Cloud was immersed in the story.

There was a simmering heat in the pit of his stomach, the burning ache of adrenaline that was a poor substitute for food. In the tale, he was in the body of a man wearing a suit of armor, a man who was running towards something with great intensity. Cloud could feel a desire in the base of the man's heart, a feverish pang to be with someone.

The man was running on a stone-littered field with his comrades in arms directly behind him. He adjusted the grip on his sword, blinked the sand from his eyes, and unleashed a battle cry. Fire rained from the skies on arrows dripped in fire, and the world was ablaze. Cloud could sense Sephiroth's longing to pull him from this vision, but he was far too engrossed in this man's story to be frightened.

A bedlam commenced, of screams, shouts, and the ever-persistent clang of metal against metal, of shields ramming into shields. This was a war about something petty, about land and other measures that couldn't be settled with talking. Blood was spilled, men were debilitated, and corpses were tossed aside like the unneeded pits of fruits.

Men rode on large-scaled steeds, creatures that were part lizard, and part abomination. Pure blood-lust emanated from them as they hacked men to pieces, not caring about cries of mercy or reasoning.

The warrior that Cloud’s spirit was placed into roared, unleashing a scream that reminded him of an enraged jungle cat. He charged, slicing down all the men that came towards him with the strength of his arms. Blood spurted, but he paid no need to the cries. He just wanted to get somewhere else, somewhere other than this accursed ground. Cloud knew the soldier wanted the damned war to be over, for there was someone important he wanted to see, someone who he was fighting for his life for.

Then, all of a sudden, pain exploded from the warriors chest. The man looked down, and an anguished cry slipped from his lips. Not one, but two arrows were sticking through his midsection, on the left side. His heart was punctured, and there was no hope for revival.

"No!" Cloud's eyes opened suddenly, and he found himself back outside, with the light of the moon, and his friend. "Wait...what happened? Tell me what happened to him!"

Sephiroth returned Cloud's gaze with a cool, long look. Finally, he blew out a deep exhalation of air. "He died, Cloud. I didn't want you to experience his pain." Cloud wondered if Sephiroth had already known this story, the story of death, of a damned man who would never see his special person again.

For a moment, Cloud almost got mad. Almost, being the operative word. He thought about it and realized that this was all because Sephiroth didn't want for him to get hurt. What he saw, what he experienced was one of the most literal and visceral things he had ever felt in his life. And somehow, despite the tragedy and literal pain, he loved it. It made him feel alive, as if he was actually there, becoming a man, someone who could fight, get hurt, and stand against the evils, all for the sake of returning towards that special someone.

At last, he spoke. "Please, Seph? I want to see what happens. I won't get upset, I promise." Sephiroth didn't budge. "I promise, if it gets too sad or something I'll tell you." After a long moment, Sephiroth agreed.

Within seconds, they were back on that battlefield.

The smell of blood coated the air like a sulfurous cloud, lingering in the crimson-stained world. The pain was back, and the warrior was dying. He was choking, fighting, and at the very last, falling. The hill he had tried so hard to climb while injured would now be his grave. The man stumbled and fell, heels over head, down the face of the bluff. Cloud swore he could feel every crack and impact of rocks on his skin, every jarring impact that the wounded soldier experienced. He fell down in a supine manner, and he stayed there, with his face arched towards the skies.

The skies were peaceful despite the absolution of slaughter directly above him. It might as well have been a whole universe away, for the fallen man could no longer hear much, though hearing was the final sense to leave the dying. The roaring in his ears died down, and it reminded him of a memory, of the one who he wanted to return towards. Cloud mentally gripped Sephiroth's hands, as if he were too excited to contain himself from what he would witness. This was what the man was fighting for.

Behind the unnamed soldier's eyes, he pictured a male face. The face was as smooth as freshly spread cream, and just as pallid. A shock of raven black hair and deep-brown eyes made the warrior’s heart ache. A conversation occurred, only in the fallen fighter’s mind, that Cloud was allowed to listen to. Despite Cloud’s shock, he still listened.

"You better come back alive." There was an edge of bitterness to the black -haired man’s voice, a tone that claimed that he should've been the one to go off towards the war, and not his special person. Cloud watched the talking man grip a wooden cup absently, as if he forgot the purpose of the utensil, much less the necessity of water.

The warrior---now alive and healthy---laughed. He had a thick and booming laugh, almost like Sephiroth's. "I will. I'll run the whole way back to you. I’ll fight, because you can't." The man with the black hair sighed, and Cloud sensed his frustration.

"Damn infection. You're not made for this life." The man turned in his chair, and Cloud saw why he couldn't join his special person on the battlefield: on his left leg, he had a wooden limb. At some point, he had lost his leg, and was unable to fight, for he wasn't physically fit for battle.

Then something happened that would shock Cloud for the remainder of his life. The warrior smiled, walked over to the man, and knelt before him, almost as if he were in a past life, a courtier bowing before a great king. He gripped the sitting man’s hand, looked deeply into his eyes, and brought his face down to be kissed.

"I'll come back alive."

That made the present situation, the circumstance of this man's death, all the more unbearable. The warrior felt as if he had broken his promise to his special someone by not being strong enough to fight, strong enough to live. Cloud felt the man's hand---now, his hand---moving underneath the cumbersome armor. Somehow, with the little strength he had, he threw off his breast plate, the iron arm-links, and at the last, hurled his sword as far away from him as he could. It was as if he didn't want to die with any shred of a weapon, any acknowledgment of being in battle, in any association with war.

Cloud knew, that in the present world, he was crying. The tears of his eyes mixed with those of the fallen soldier, and it took Cloud a moment to realize that the man’s hands were moving. The man had been reaching for a chain around his neck, a chain that held a thick gold band on a silver lavaliere. He gripped it in his fist, kissed the ring, and slumped backwards.

The story ended there, and within seconds, Cloud found himself blinking the images away. Tears spilled from his eyes, and he wiped at his face, ashamed that he had gotten so immersed in the story, in the history of one select person in the world. Even still, he allowed himself to cry, to grieve for this nameless face in history, for a man who would never again see his special person. That was where the tragedy lay.

After a few minutes, Cloud realized that Sephiroth wasn't talking. Normally, after they experienced a story, Sephiroth would spend awhile telling him what he thought happened, and how it correlated to real-world events and how to gain a life-lesson from it. Also, he urged him to speak of what he thought the legend said and revealed. There was none of that now.

"Seph?" Cloud reached forward and shook Sephiroth's shoulder. Hooded green eyes met his, and Cloud inhaled sharply. There was the un-maskable track of tears on Sephiroth's cheeks. "It's alright." Cloud's hands shook as he scooted closer to his friend, a friend who was in need of consoling. Gently, Cloud set his hand on Sephiroth's shoulder and gave it a few gentle pats.

After the longest silence between them, Sephiroth spoke. "I apologize for my show of tears. I never dreamed that I would get so deeply involved in someone's story before. I've always looked at these tales at an arms length. I don't want to be empathetic towards anyone in the past, for they did die, and suffer through whatever fate dealt them." Cloud wanted to talk to him, to say that there was nothing truly wrong with feeling, but he didn't want to interrupt Sephiroth's train of thought. So, he just listened. "However, this story was different. There was something about the tragedy of it all, the meaning." Sephiroth looked back into the house, and Cloud could've sworn that his eyes were painted green glass. "I brought Masamune here. I bring it with me, to protect people, the world. And yet, I don't feel as if I'm letting myself feel."

Cloud waited, and every beat of his heart was a thousand lifetimes. When he felt that Sephiroth was through speaking, he began. "Seph ...the story...it, made me sad too. I was crying too." He managed a smile to the older boy, and it was weakly returned. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Tears make you human." The word stuck in his throat, for that was the one thing that they were not. Humans couldn't control the oceans, or commune with the stars. Humans didn't have wings. And above all, humans weren't sacrificed for the sake of the Planets.

They sat outside for a long while, just looking at the skies. Both young men wondered if the stars would show them something that tragic for the remainder of their days, a world riddled and wrought with affliction and unhappy endings. Also, they wondered at love, and all of the mechanisms they knew of it. Both had presumed that love was between a man and a woman, towards siblings and their families, and the bond that friends shared. Was it appropriate to feel that way for another man, if you were a man? Also, was it allowed to immerse yourself in that love? The questions made them uncomfortable, squeamish.

"Let's make up an ending." Sephiroth raised his brow to Cloud, but Cloud continued. "An ending to the story. In my head, the soldier's special someone reunited with him later on in life, in the Lifestream. We all go there, eventually. They were never really apart, or alone." Sephiroth gazed at him for so long, Cloud wondered if there was something on his face, something in his eyes that he would be forever guessing at.

Finally, Sephiroth spoke. "That's an excellent way of putting it. Whether we die here, without the ones we love, we'll see them eventually. Besides, we'll both be the things we control and govern. Nothing ever really ends." He stood up first, and like the first time they met, Sephiroth outstretched his hand. Cloud nodded and took the hand, gripped it, and allowed himself to be pulled upwards.

The motion made them close, as close as they had been in the mountains. For a moment, neither of the two could discern anything but the clear colors of one another’s eyes. Sephiroth found himself rapt with the dotting of freckles on Cloud's nose, and Cloud watched Sephiroth's pupils dilate, revealing more black than green for a moment.

"Thank you." Sephiroth's brow furrowed in confusion. "For showing me that story, and for teaching me that nothing ends. That makes living more fun."

Sephiroth smiled briefly, and for a moment, both of them wondered if their story would be like the warrior and his special someone. Would they die, without the other? Would they, when they were older, become special to one another in that way? And above all, would there be more between them in the future?

"You're most welcome. Come now; it's getting late." Sephiroth released Cloud's hand, and walked ahead of him, silver hair billowing behind him like a sterling curtain. Something made Sephiroth stop suddenly, pivot on his heel, and then go back to Cloud. "Let's walk together. I don't want to be ahead of you; I want to be beside you."

The gesture was so small, so unbelievably detailed, that Cloud had no idea what he meant by it at first. Then he understood. Though this seemed too critical of something menial, he understood that this was Sephiroth's way of making them staying together, for the sake of their sanity. All of the sacrifices were born in pairs; it was necessary that they remain in tandem.

"Me too." Together, they walked in the house, and without speaking a word, crawled into bed together, not feeling a sense of doubt or awkwardness at one another’s warmth and proximity. Too much had happened for them to be separated now.

"Goodnight, Seph." Cloud punched his pillow a few times, and after a minute, fell into deep slumber. Sephiroth took awhile longer to drift off, but when he did, his dreams were peaceful, dreams of lapis eyes, of freckles, and of a never-ending innocence.

Never did the other think that their suspicions on love would play into their later years.

End of Part 1

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