Central Defense

After enjoying a good, long laugh at the notion that Vincent might teach me how to be a proper wife, I concluded that he would probably not return to finish the conversation. Guess I would never learn the correct way to make a home for my husband and children. Wonder how I managed for almost twenty years?

The morning was one of those gorgeous early Summer gifts: the air was perfectly clear, just warm enough to let me stand a while without becoming chilled. I thought a bit about what it all meant.

First, an ugly thought crept in. Was it possible, were I a properly submissive, homebody-housekeeper lady, that my daughters’ father would have searched for me? Or maybe avenged my “death?” Certainly I would still be home, watching my girls enter adulthood. After all, I harbored no illusions about my portion in the defeat of Sephiroth and the subsequent prevention of Meteorfall. And I would still have my girls to myself. Just wouldn’t have had a life outside the home.

After a short period of feeling sorry for myself, I mentally slapped myself upside the head. How stupid to wonder “what if!” My short trip through the LifeStream had shown me that nothing fits neatly together in this world. I helped, a little, to destroy the alien Jenova. It cost me my cozy family life and upwardly-mobile job in the Shinra Labs, and a good portion of personal memory.

Maybe. Life is always just a maybe. So maybe it would be a good thing not to over-plan for our unborn baby.

It seemed obvious that we should make a home for the child, but he or she would still spend most of the time in the communal creche. After all, even if we collected the kid after the work day, some fifteen or sixteen hours were dedicated to the militia. That meant indoctrination into the local lifestyle was assured.

If I let it happen. All in all, life in Nibelheim was no more or less militarized than that of Wutai, to the west, or Fort Condor, to the east. Or any place where children were exposed to the Disciplines. So that wasn’t the problem.

Raising and educating children is more than a full-time job, and needn’t be left in the hands of parents. I’m not nuts about home-schooling, because that atmosphere doesn‘t reflect the real world. Most people create their own little Eden apart from the battlefield and the marketplace, and return there to escape.

So what was my problem?

Just seemed to me that I should not be included in the indoctrination process, especially skewed by a die-hard, Alpha anachronism.

In short, Vincent Valentine was not going to tell me what to do.

Returning to the Keep, I went upstairs, removed the Damascene ring and left it on the dresser across from the richly-carved four-poster. It seemed to belong to those surroundings, much more than I ever would. The place could use some pillows and a few plants, but I was pretty certain that Vincent wouldn‘t like to watch it turn girlie-girl. Or even comfortably homey.

Just before leaving for good, I looked around one more time, lingering in front of the dragon tapestry. There were some repairs that were woven into the original, with little effort made to disguise the damage. The weaving was done only to maintain the integrity of the entire piece.

Each hole had a different character. One was a burn, others were cleanly cut, or maybe pierced. The corrective work did not hide anything that had happened to the original work. It looked as if the Lady deliberately left the damage for all to see.

Surely Shinju Kameko could tell me more about the piece. The dragon more closely resembled Buddy, the Great Northern Blue Lindworm, than it did Esmerelda, the local Lesser Green Dragon. Sex linked differences or local adaptations? My Grampa Lindorm had only said that all dragons were related, regardless of shape and form. A visit to our tapestry-maker was in order, indeed.

I went directly to the Quartermaster, who beamed when I asked about his Nana. He immediately pointed out that Shinju Kameko was grandmother or great-grandmother to many of the soldiers of the militia.

“Nana was a beauty and an adventuress, as we like to say these days. The old girl’s been married a few times, but she outlived them all, one by one.”

We joked a bit regarding how rough and ready she was, and his reaction was again one of pride and pleasure. He knew his Nana was one of a kind, and all the kids were real characters, too.

He gave me instructions to the Lady’s home workshop, on the other side of town, opposite from the base. It would be a pleasant stop, a place to get away from the military for a while. I did have one question more for Sonny.

“How did Shinju Kameko survive the burning of Nibelheim?”

“You should ask her yourself: she’ll be happy to tell you. Make sure you have plenty of time for the whole story. You‘ll like it.” He winked.

“I believe you. In that case, today is not the day.

“Mr. Quartermaster, give me a quick rundown on the radar system.” He picked up his PHS, punched a code and handed it to me. Onscreen was a layout of the base. Here and there were moving dots, some single and others in groups. There was a lot of movement in the chocobo corral, and even a little on its periphery.

“Can’t really see much in detail on this.” The relief was beginning to flood through me, starting at my hairline and working its way through my face. Our naughty secret was safe: one couldn’t tell anything from those little blips!

“Sorry, Commander. I thought you’d like an overview.” Sonny tapped a toggle as I watched and enlarged the center of the display. I could see a yellow butterfly lighting on the gate of the corral. After fiddling with the arrow keys I was able to zoom in on Leprechaun and another chocobo, a Blue. They seemed to be squabbling, wrestling or engaging in some other contact activity. After about half a minute, I felt like a voyeur and handed it back to Sonny. He snickered.

“Those two again? You’d think there’d be plenty of Greens and Blues by now, and at least one Black, anyway. Well, we can always hope.” He snorted, punched a button, returning it to scanning mode.

“Do you zoom in often?” I thanked my lucky stars that Sonny himself was a day-side watchman: couldn’t face him otherwise, after that.

“Only when we don’t recognize the activity. In fact, I watched Commander Valentine and you walk along the river bank yesterday afternoon. How do you like the Keep?”

“Never noticed a thing going on before he showed me. I thought the area was woodland, waste acreage lost to the foothills.” I was blushing furiously, unable to stop the heat from rising to my face. Sonny smiled at my reaction, most likely misinterpreting it. Or so I hoped.

“The Keep is considered an antique treasure. We are all very happy to have it occupied again after so long. And, forgive me if I overstep my bounds, but the place could use a woman’s touch.” I gave him a vague smile, and signed for my armor and weapon, nodded again and waved, unable to think of anything else to say without getting redder.

It wouldn’t be long before the gossips started.


Gold, Black and Wonderful

Chocobos, that is. Billy was true to his word: I’d hardly stepped away from the Armory when the Highwind hovered above the corral, then moved to the area between it and Mt. Nibel. It dropped into a perfect, silent landing, barely moving the grasses as it came to rest.

The engines went quiet as I walked over to the ship. I’d forgotten how big it was in relation to the town. The airship was practically a town in itself; only the mountains gave it any perspective. And from a human standpoint, the craft was simply huge, making me feel tiny as I peered up the access ramp into the metallic hull.

I stood under the bay and shouted as loud as I could.

“Cid! You stopping in or not?” At first there was no response. Then the prettiest little Black chocobo in the world sauntered down the ramp and nuzzled me, melting away any bad feelings left from the morning.

“Ebony, sweetie! Good girl. My lovely little angel.” She continued to nuzzle as I stroked her feathers and murmured all the things I knew she loved to hear. I told her she was the most beautiful bird on the Planet. She warbled and warked. “I missed you, too, baby bird.”

Right on cue, WonderBoy approached, ready to demand his share of attention. He was tethered to Billy, who also led Glitter, my prize Gold.

“We’re en route to visiting the Sage up behind the Icicle Village. He will be our next stop. Shall I take him a scrip or propose a swap?”

“Hard cash only with that fellow, though, I must say, I can’t imagine what he does with his money. No, wait: let’s see what you can work out. Meantime, I’ll transfer you the gil.” I punched a few buttons on the PHS, frowning. “All business, Billy? You don’t even say Hi?”

“Hey, Fini, give me a break, and some time to stop shaking. I hate flying machines! They are noisy, and they upset the birds. I’ll take a decent chocobo to ride any day, like Nature intended.” He was visibly agitated. Didn’t look to me like the birds were bothered a bit by the short hop.

“Sorry, Billy, I should have guessed you wouldn’t enjoy the trip. Where’s Captain Cid?” I peered up the ramp again, but Cid had already emerged.

“Hey, Sweetstuff! Where’s your husband?” He stomped down the ramp just as if he owned the place, base, corral and all.

“You know I don‘t have a husband, any more than you have a wife. Call Vincent on your PHS, if you really need to talk to him.

“Cid, what sort of lingering interest do you have in the racers? Never mind: forget all that. We’ve got a new sport to pursue: chocobo wrestling! Come into the corral: one of the wranglers plays very rough with her bird and it’s tons of fun to watch.”

We three humans and three birds walked up to the gate. The handlers and breeders were gathering there to stare at the Highwind. Out of the small crowd, Desirée ran up and scrambled over the fence.

“Cid! You coming to wrangle birds?” She punched him in the shoulder, knocking him off balance. He punched her right back.

“I should have known. She’s the wrestler, right, Jo?” I nodded. Of course they were related! Same looks, same spirit. It was as if I knew it all along. Soon I would have to move away from them both, so the cigarette smoke wouldn’t pollute my baby-making system.

“Guys, you want to ease up on the cigarettes a bit? At least until we’re done here?” Desirée smiled and backed away, not wanting to extinguish her newly-lit smoke. Cid removed his and cocked an eye at me.

“Since when, Jo?” Flustered, I wondered how long I could keep the secret from him. Even so, my hand went right over my growing middle.

“Since she’s got a creepy-crawler inside her!” His cousin grinned wickedly.

“A crawler? Jo?” I shot mental daggers at Desirée, who trotted away, laughing and wagging a finger at me. Cid looked at the uniform and mail vest, and then at my hand. I stared back in glum defiance, determined not to say anything.

“Hoo, boy! Already, guys?” I didn’t know if he meant the pregnancy or if he guessed the separation. If he wasn’t openly asking, I wasn’t answering.

Cid wasn’t asking, so we got right down to business. I rang up Eleanora and the four of us began to make plans for Expedition Chocobo Wrestling. Just as I suspected, she said it was already an informal sport among the wranglers, with them betting among themselves. Billy was enthralled, his eyes glowing like golden gil in the sunshine.

Later he turned to me, just agog with anticipation.

“It’s easy to see where we can make the most profit: gambling, in the long run. For starters, though, the wrestlers need strength and stamina above all. You’ll be wanting Gysahl greens, and I just happen to be able to provide them in large lots!

“Rather than only set up the sport, lets create our leagues while we’re at it. We’ll need to fine tune our knowledge of the various birds and their related strengths. This is new to me, but it looks like a winner!

“Wonder if we can interest the Wutai breeders?” Right on cue, Sebastian Cyan walked over, and we began introductions all around. Then the discussion got technical, with each ranch chipping in their knowledge and concerns. Golds could be introduced later, after their numbers increased, but Blues and Greens would be the early draw. The kids batted ideas back and forth regarding the human players. After a while, the discussion petered out and it was time for the air ship to go. I turned to Billy.

“Give us a while to talk to other local players. You should begin to train your birds. Although I‘ve only watched Desirée Sunset with her Green, maybe we can send someone to get it started in the Midgar area. Your ranch can be the main attraction. That sort of thing doesn‘t belong on a military base, certainly not if it’s open to the general public.”


And that was that. I knew Billy and his Grandpa Bill would simply grab the concept and run with it. They might even turn it into something entirely different by the time I could stop by. Couldn’t wait to see their version. We sealed our deal over the Sylkis greens and made arrangements for breeder swaps between Nora’s Pride and ChocoBill’s. Sebastian would contact Wutai, to feel out their interest in the enterprise.

Cid came up from behind, ear to the PHS, and tapped my shoulder.

“Hey, Sugarfoot, gotta go.” The Captain snapped the device shut, and taking my arm, pulled me aside. “Vinny’s not talking, either. That’s okay by me, but what do I tell Shera? Is this a big secret?” I shook my head; obviously, babies don’t make well-kept secrets.

“Tell her that the two of us don’t share the same sense of humor.” No one’s gets to see my dirty laundry snapping in the breeze, if I have any say.

Cid gave me the fish eye. “He doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

“Exactly. But I do. Too bad for him if he can’t take a joke.”

“Dammit, Jo! Watch it; he’s going to kick your butt one of these days. Or maybe paddle it.” He added the last with a snicker. Geez, I thought, another old-style Central Continent kook. The hell with that crap.

“Pfft! I’d love to see him try.” Bravado is my specialty. In fact, I really wasn’t so sanguine, but Cid wouldn‘t understand. “No one runs my show.”

“Doesn’t look like it’s only your show any more, kid. Think ahead. Creepy-crawlers need their daddies.”

“Geez, Cid, when did you become so domesticated? You two expecting?” He shook his head, then smiled conspiratorially.

“You never can tell. Shera can be tenacious and very single-minded!”

He spoke proudly of the little lady who stood by him enough to be there when he needed her most. It‘s more than I would have done for him; Cid can easily be a first-class jerk, and then some.

He looked thoughtful a moment. “We can get her interested in the sports-medicine aspect of this wrestling. It would give her something to fuss over while I run the air ships.” He meant the sort of minutiae involved in the human part of wrestling, or maybe just brawling, that needed strict attention to detail. Sounded like her, all right: if anyone could pin down the specifics, it would be Shera.

Cid was hooked, spinning out ideas from the top of his head. Between the racing, the wrestling, and his airships, they were sure to be set for life. The joint venture lessened the risk, increased the possibilities for networking, and encouraged contact and fellowship between the continents. He talked at me until my head began to hurt, so I pushed him up the ramp, telling him to give my best to Shera.

I, too, was beginning to feel like an entrepreneur. Shares in Fruitland’s Finest were offered early on, when the Randolphs saw my interest. They knew I would jump at the chance to be a part of my favorite beverages. After that, every drink I took made me feel like I was contributing to the cause. Between the ranches and the winery, my investments would provide a nice little future for the kid and maybe my own retirement.

Retirement from what? I mused. The militia probably held no long-term future for me; I chafed under all the responsibility and constant surveillance. And as yet, I had not re-connected with my family scattered around Midgar. Shinra was gone for good, so research work was out of the question, at least in the laboratory. Besides my last stint hadn’t turned out too well. Still recovering from that.

All these minor projects were stopgaps, to allow me to enjoy some time with my as-yet unborn child, and to keep me busy until I hit the road to regain my lost daughters. The accelerated pregnancy would last a couple more months, but much of that time I could be somewhat disabled. "Quickening" was taking on a whole new meaning during this gestation: no time to get used to any changes, physical or otherwise. And I was swelling up like a poisoned sow.

On top of that, I needed to figure out my next move, now that cohabitation seemed unfeasible. Never was much for shacking up, anyway; seems silly to play house once a person had a contract marriage, kids and all. All relationships were messy things, in my experience, so why bother? Furthermore, one husband had been enough: at least he didn’t try to tell me what to do.

On the other hand, there were so many “death do us part“ love stories in my family, that it was a shame I didn‘t carry on the fine tradition. Still, I could be one scratchy lady when faced with difficult men; best to avoid them, for all concerned.

What a mess of contradictions!

Guess I was just hoping that some day I could return alone to the little seaside hut outside Wutai, and listen to the tide go out.

Lady Kameko's Baby

The next few weeks we followed a rather boring routine, as we made preparations to release the dragons from the caves. I continued to eat lunch with Eleanora in the mess hall, but slept in my room at the inn, being my own boss and keeping my own hours.

Did I say boring? What a liar I am! The dragonet was growing bigger before our eyes. Almost a half kilo some days. No kidding. We developed the habit of weighing and measuring the little stinker when we arrived in the early part of the day. Not even a month had passed before the little guy was up to our waists. Esmerelda stopped disgorging dinners after about ten days, and Baby was usually roaming around, hunting out of sight, when we came to look for them. Then Mommy would make that lovely purring-hiss that would bring her darling running to us.

At the same time, our Great Blue Buddy, almost fully recovered, was beginning to show a little more zest for life. He was still confined to the caverns but encouraged to forage about under supervision. Three weeks before his release, Shinju Kameko came by to check on his progress. It was Shinju who insisted we set a date for Buddy’s release. It was almost as if he specifically asked her to intervene.

All three of our charges immediately adored her. Later, we could say “Nana” when she wasn’t even with us, and they would perk up and look around for her. She seemed able to read their minds, and was undeniably reading their somas. It was through her impromptu teaching that we learned the sex of our growing Baby.

The very first day, Shinju even surprised us all with her strength. When she was introduced to Baby, she grabbed his shriveled wings and lifted the little guy right off the cavern floor! He was hanging there, like a kitten in its mother’s mouth, not at all uncomfortable or upset, just blissfully submissive. Then she called me over to see his belly.

“Here, girlie. Look at this!” At the base of the tail the softness was swollen, just a bit. “That is his future virility, only you will never see it. The males develop scales to cover their bellies and to protect their genitalia, same as Buddy.”

Weeks before, Buddy gave away his sex when he came to court Esmerelda. She was not in the mood, and nearly killed him, driving him away from her unhatched eggs.

I carefully felt Baby’s bottom, which was still soft and suede-like, rather like a soft foam infant‘s toy. Then I lifted his front into my arms for a quick cuddle, and lowered him to the floor. At 20 kilos, he was no longer a lap pet, and scampered away like a hyper puppy. At least he no longer stank, now that he could chew and swallow his own meals. I watched him, feeling like a proud Grammy. My heart overflowed, and I spoke without first thinking.

“I wondered about that. We weren’t sure what was sex related and what would be signs of the separate breed.” Even as I said it, my Grampa Lindorm‘s disapproving voice sounded at the back of my head. I knew Lady Kameko would cut me off, and I was right. She spoke readily, the consummate Teacher at that moment.

“Not many breeds! Just one. Dragons adapt to their environments: different colors, just like humans; massive dragons for the cold northern countries, smaller ones for the south; serpentine for ocean, water caves and other fresh waters. They all can fly, and they all can swim, and don’t need wings or fins or gills to do it.” I sighed, still watching our little bundle of miracles, darting here and there, pretending to hunt.

“Well, Lady. Then this is a red letter day. It looks like we can finally name our baby boy.”

“No! That’s not your place. The rider names the dragon. It just happens: that’s part of the Akasha. The dragon tells its name to the rider.”

We all stared at her, stunned. Even now, I don’t remember exactly when the name came to me, but it seems she was Esmerelda from the moment I began to heal her.

Ken gave me a sidelong look, then walked up to Lady Kameko and spoke quietly, his voice shaky.

“You know the Great Blue’s name is Buddy. Is that okay?”

“If that’s what he told you, yes.”

“He didn’t tell me anything. We were just becoming buddies.”

“Don’t you kids know anything? Buddy told you his name. He loves you already. You do intend to ride him, don’t you?” She almost threatened the young warrior, poking her index finger into his sternum. He backed up just a hair, a little uncertain.

“If he’ll have me, and if he’s strong enough to fight…”

She mimicked him, “Strong enough to fight? Are you kidding? Right now, he’s capable of clearing out the caverns, critters, soldiers, limestone formations and all. You didn’t cure him—he let you attend to his wounds! He isn’t ailing; he’s waiting for your next move.

“And don’t you ever anaesthetize another dragon! As far as they are concerned, that’s attack magic: status disorders only make them angry. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you all afterwards.”

Adrianna would not be happy to hear of that conversation. We all were dismayed that we may have upset our charges, or accidentally committed a breach of trust. Then I thought of Shinju's weaving work on the wings.

“Lady Kameko, then why does the Great Blue seem to love you, too? Does he know you were working to heal him, even though he was unconscious?” She nodded, but was still frowning, thinking. She spoke slowly.

“Dragons are much more intelligent than you think. More likely smarter than us. They are not chocobos, to be led about on a leash. Your Buddy has forgiven your foolishness because he knew we all wanted to help. He knows each of us now.”

“Then Esmerelda can read my mind?” This new information was upsetting; I had a hand in killing many dragons on the road to the Northern Crater. Could she sense my guilt?

“Not your mind, girlie. Your dragon reads you. I can’t explain it; you‘re not ready. You will learn, you will know the magic. Your Baby will teach you little by little, as he grows and as his link to Akasha blossoms. He will become more dragonish everyday, and you will come to know all the others through him.”

“Lady, will Esmerelda impart a share of Akasha to me?” The crone shook her head, again frowning with deep thought.

“No, girlie, the Green’s magic is a little different. It may be Akasha, but right now I don’t feel it in her or the infant. By the way, what is your element?”

The stupidity must have shown in my face. “I only know how to heal and draw life-force….” But she was already nodding and smiling, as if she were reading something written in the air around my head.

“Oho! That’s the problem. You don’t know. Don’t worry, Esmerelda will teach you.”

“She’ll give me her magic?” The familiar excitement was gripping me as we spoke. Again the Lady frowned in thought.

“No. You may already have her magic. Or your own was quite strong beforehand. No matter. When you are together, you will share. You must be sharing by now, if you healed her.

“And, girlie, she already knows your unborn baby. She feels it more than you do. She may even know your little one‘s name.” Shinju patted my belly.

What a concept! Her meaning suddenly became clear. The dragon and I were beginning to know one another, and we were drawing on each other’s strengths. Vincent was doing that for me also, when he wasn’t busy trying to run my life. Was he drawing from me, too? I had not thought of Akasha as being rather like mako, containing the wisdom and life experiences of the ages. The new paradigm was more than I was ready to absorb. My head was hurting again, and I excused myself from the Lady and the other soldiers, and returned to rest at the inn. It would be at least a week before I felt up to another visit with the Lady Kameko.

My Mum used to tell me: “You should learn something new every day.” I could only hope that my mind was still able to expand and accept all the new information.


Shinju's Story

The afternoon before the releases were planned, I gathered all my energies together and wandered across town to the small, unmarked shop where Shinju Kameko wove her tapestries. There were no signs whatsoever that the tiny residence housed an artisan. Not even the smallest engraved plate that could alert Shinra to a survivor of the disaster some six years back. I knocked very timidly on the door, hoping I had the right home.

For a full minute I heard shuffling sounds, but the door did not open. Concluding that I had the wrong house, I turned to leave. The little lady was peering through the blinds at the window, so I moved directly in front of her, patting my swollen belly. The door crashed open.

“You! How’d you get so big so fast? You are not toxic are you? Doesn’t your husband take you to the doctor to watch that stuff?” She dragged me into the front room. Her tone seemed almost belligerent, beyond scolding. Had she suddenly gone senile? Or did I actually look poisonous?

“What the hell, woman? How would I be toxic?” Was I glowing again? Didn’t think I was even floating. She answered with a dismissive wave.

“Not you: your blood, the baby‘s lifeline. Whatever happened to all the teachers? You kids don’t know anything anymore. The only way you could be that size by now would be Toxemia. What have you been eating? Too many sweets, likely. It’s the craving for them that’s the danger sign. Who’s your doctor?” She looked sincerely distressed, and I was feeling guilty that I had yelled back. After calming way down, I spoke as quietly as I could muster.

“Lady Kameko, this is not a normal pregnancy, but the baby is not in danger. When I worked for Shinra, they experimented on me, so pregnancies would take less time. We don‘t really know when we‘ll deliver, but everything else is right on track.” She gave me a look of wary disgust, then dry-spat at the door.

“I’m not surprise you would mention Shinra. Those bastards foul everything they touch! They are the reason I don’t like to answer my door. The last time I almost did…” She shuddered and swore under her breath. Then she pointed at me, accusingly. “How could you let them experiment on you?”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t my idea. I didn’t let them: old Professor Hojo did what he wanted with me. I’m only able to be here because I escaped from him and all his other, more willing lab rats.” The thought that anyone would think I voluntarily complied left me depressed, almost teary. But the old lady immediately began to soothe me, petting my belly as she spoke.

“There, now, girlie. Of course you did. I remember now: your husband was another victim of that Hojo guy. Between you and me, I think there were lots of local people who took their turns in the Mansion, but didn’t survive to talk about it.”

“True enough, Lady. We saw many dried out bodies stuffed into a room in the basement.” Then I felt a small panic. “Are you missing someone who went in and didn’t come out?” Shinju looked terribly sad, but she shook her head.

“Not any more. After your group cleared out most of the unclean creatures in the basement, the militia went in a few times to scout for family members. A few of our own were still there: dead, of course. Mummified! All we ever got from Shinra were mummies.

“And a visit from the Great Sephiroth.” She looked far away, so I found a comfortable chair, and after insisting she sit first, I grabbed another and settled in to hear her story. Didn’t even have to ask.

“The little blond Strife kid—one of yours—from a couple houses down hadn’t been gone very long, before a small Shinra detachment came into town. The word was that they were sent to clear out the monsters coming from around the reactor. We wondered if the kid would return with them. What was his name?” The old woman was very sharp, not senile at all, regardless of her protestations that she couldn’t remember. I played along.

“That would be Cloud Strife, Ma’am. Our leader. He was part of the detachment.”

She nodded gravely, and spoke sadly. “We didn’t know. We didn’t see him until after the whole disaster. That was when Shinra recovered him and his friend from the reactor; they both looked dead. Our Tifa also was taken away, but her Teacher wouldn’t let Shinra find her. I was very unhappy to see Cloud and his friend taken into the Mansion.” At that, I stopped her.

“Wait. How could you watch all that? Wasn’t the town burned to ashes?” This promised to be more informative than Cloud’s muddled version.

“I’m getting to that. Don’t interrupt my stream of thought. Just let me remember.

“That first day, they all walked to the reactor and after a few hours came back. Word was they had simply plowed down mutants as they went. With Sephiroth as their leader, nothing could stand in their way. Then they returned to the Mansion for the night. We were grateful that they could stay and clear out more monsters. Sephiroth, though, he went berserk that night.

“He came out of the Mansion hollering something about us people being the real monsters. He started by killing the Shinra soldiers that stood guard, then he came through the streets, murdering everyone in his path. We ran to our houses and locked the doors.

“I can still hear the screams of my neighbors as he chopped right through them. Then he started with the Strife home, entering and leaving very quietly; poor lady never even had a chance to hide. When he came out, the place was on fire. He ran from one house to another, throwing flames.

“He was very systematic. When he got to my shop, the monster kicked in the door and began wrecking the place. He even slashed and stabbed my handiwork, cursing me all the while. I was hiding behind a rack of tapestries as he poked it with that huge sword. He damaged each and every one of them, but never got through to me. Then he set the room on fire and left. I wrapped myself in a few of the hangings and escaped through the blaze.

“Our army had come in by then, and began to fight with him. That’s when we were able to run; they kept him too busy to kill us. I peeled away the tapestries and threw them at everyone I met, so they could protect themselves from the fires and search for other survivors.

“The Blue Lindworm your husband bought—it was my cover. I went into the battle to do my part. There was so much fire, it was work enough to simply beat out flames wherever I could, especially from the bodies. When I finally stopped to look around, most of the kids were taken away to safety, but their parents were still fighting.

“After we collected every person we could, the militia fell back. A few of us returned for another go-around, but by then, Sephiroth was simply running through anyone he could, with that sword, his Masamune. I whipped the tapestry at him, and the others who had them saw me and did the same. But then he simply stood there, glaring at us, the whole town in flames around him. When we ran out to the base, Sephiroth did not follow; he just wanted to destroy Nibelheim and return to the reactor.

“Lots of people died, but many survived: same as any other war. Our scouts watched the town to make sure Sephiroth was done, but they never saw him again. After Shinra collected your Cloud and his buddy from the reactor, I came around to see what was left. The houses were burned to the ground, and only the tapestries remained in the square. Most of them were ruined. But the Blue Dragon survived, along with a few others. I’ve been repairing them ever since, not to hide the damage but to preserve them, for everyone to remember. None are really very old, but each tells an important story, now more than before. Yoshikuni’s Blue Dragon was the one I used to fight back Sephiroth.”

“That was my Grampa’s tapestry?” I was almost incredulous; we kids had never seen it.

“He didn’t commission it; I made it in tribute to him. We worked together off and on for many years. My job was weaving the light armor, and making fastenings for the heavier stuff. Back then we worked right with the dragons, to fit the pieces properly. It‘s why I lived so long: they imparted their Akasha to me. When your grandfather lost his Great Blue, he never fought again. He returned to the Eastern Continent to retire. He said it hurt to look at that hanging. I had made it to help ease his grief, but he told me that he couldn‘t accept it.” She shook her head sadly, clearly pained by the memory.

Shinju Kameko then talked a while longer about the aftermath of the burning of Nibelheim. Scouts had stationed themselves all around the area, immediately after Sephiroth returned to the reactor. Earlier, some of her neighbors had seen Cloud run back to the town and enter his mother’s burning home, before he ran to the reactor. The town’s people collected what little remained of their belongings and sought shelter from the militia.

"Shinra also sent a cleanup crew, after they had returned to the Mansion with the two critically wounded men. A short while later, word got out that Sephiroth had been killed in the reactor, by whom or what was never revealed.” Then Shinju Kameko became furiously angry, throwing her hands up in frustration.

“After a few months, those idiots began to rebuild the town! Just as it was, only not for us. The new residents were all spies, every one of them. Not very good ones, either. Amateurs. That was a signal for some of us. We began to move back into the new homes, those of us that were left. Sometimes the spies simply let us, other times they joined us. Shinra didn’t seem to care; they were already busy with something else. In time, the place began to fill up, little by little, with zombies in black robes. They were all real people, or used to be. The base doctor said they were suffering from mako overdose. All harmless, and kind of pathetic: more victims of that Hojo guy.”

Then Shinju Kameko sat with her hands folded on her lap; her narrative had spun itself out. At that point, I knew the rest of the story. We traded details back and forth, to fill in any gaps. The Lady offered me lunch and we ate a light meal in silence. Then she told me I looked tired and should get some rest.

Weird to be constantly told to go to bed, at my age. All the same, I returned to the Inn, avoiding the host more than ever, and went straight to sleep. Again the Lady had exhausted me, physically and emotionally. I didn’t even rise for dinner, instead calling my regrets to Eleanora, lest she worry about my absence.

That night was filled with dreams of tiny people battling an enormous Sephiroth, slapping at him with wall hangings, led by the Lady. At one point, he came after me, stabbing at my belly. My nightclothes were soaked with sweat when I woke with a gasp. The unborn baby kicked at my womb, and I petted and spoke soothingly to it, to calm myself enough to return to sleep.

The whole episode left me filled with wonder. It is often said that when Life is ready to teach us something, the right Teacher will come to us. I had never doubted that the Lady worked with the dragons’ armorer, back when parts were woven for the coverings worn by both dragon and riders. Still the connection was eerie--and undeniable. Shinju could tell us exactly what we would need to train and protect our newest allies.

Exhausting as it was, it wasn’t my last meeting with Lady Kameko. It’s only now, years later, that I’ve come to recognize that she was the only real hero, through and through, that I met outside Avalanche.

Bless her scrappy old soul, she would hate to hear me say that.

Expectations

The Blue Dragon’s Release

Buddy’s release was a salute to his recovery, with Ken, Time Mage Adrianna and me ceremoniously leading him through the caverns, out a wide opening. We thought that that entryway might have been the one he used to find Esmerelda. He wandered slowly behind, eventually floating right over us, to just in front, and began to lead the small parade, spreading his wings and sniffing the air. Then he turned his muzzle towards Ken, staring for a solid five seconds. He swung away from us again in a magnificent motion that lifted him right off the ground and straight upwards, practically out of sight. He looked every bit the battle dragon on the tapestry.

The three of us watched as he flew away. Tears were clouding Adrianna’s usually bright eyes, but she smiled all the while, moving her head as she followed Buddy’s ascent. He circled twice and shot out over the northern horizon, none the slower for the damaged wings.

We watched and waited for a while, then turned back towards the cavern.

“Well, that’s that, I guess. Now what?” Ken looked devastated.

“Now you wait. Leave everything the way it is inside the cave. Don’t even clean out the non-perishables in the food lockers. Clear away the fresh stuff, though, because it could be a while.

“Ken, we can’t keep the dragons captive. Their service must be voluntary. You established a real bond with Buddy; he will be back for you. There’s more to him than just flight, and you’ve surely been touched by his magic.

“When Buddy comes back, you both have a big job ahead. Go see the Quartermaster about a bridle, saddle, and armor for him. Sonny‘s probably on it already; see what he‘s got.” The pep talk worked; Ken instantly brightened and left in the direction of the base.

I could only hope I was right. The thought of losing either Buddy or Esmerelda saddened me and I was surprised to noticed that I, too, was tearing up. Adrianna and I looked at one another and laughed away the awkwardness.

“Time will heal,” she said with certainty.

“Absolutely. Meanwhile, take him for visits up into the hills, while they are still warmed by the Summer sun. Tell him you are going to watch for Buddy.” Then I shooed her in Ken’s direction, thinking, “Maybe they will find something to do while waiting. Maybe not. Adrianna’s pretty and primed for action, but our handsome Ken is a little thick.” I watched as she disappeared into the shadows.

At that moment, I had my first doubts about the purpose of our mission. Why were we bringing dragons back into battle? Considering their depleted numbers, did they even belong in war? New technology could easily wipe them from the face of the Planet. The two adults we were cultivating would surely be our allies, but what about the rest of them? We hardly handed them the peace pipe on our way to the Northern Crater.

The vision of Midgar, overwhelmed by tropical forest and seemingly bereft of all human occupation, came to mind. It would be best to simply allow Mankind to fade away, as if the Planet had no more use for us. The thought troubled me, especially when I thought of Buddy, rising gloriously above and leaving for parts unknown. No people there, I hoped.

Esmerelda, too, might decide that we would be of no use to them, or the Planet. She could also opt for desertion, and return—to where?—I wondered. Couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be part of our feeble efforts to keep peace around Nibel. I could only hope she would miss me, as I already missed her whenever we were apart.

I swallowed hard: at least we would have Baby.

Maybe we couldn’t even count on keeping him.

Exercising Esmerelda

Then it was my turn to voluntarily suffer loss. We led the dragonet through the entrance we’d been using, past the chamber that had been Buddy’s recovery room. After a tentative squeak of panic from her little stinker, Esmerelda began to follow us, showing placid interest in our little parade.

“That’s right, girl. Come with your Baby, outside with us. We are going to the corral. A nice outing for the two of you.” Frankly, I still had no idea how I was supposed to speak to dragons. She’d been something of a project for me, becoming a beloved dependent. I continued on as a loving pet owner.

Wonder if she was doing the same?

“Esmerelda, come. We need some fresh air. Time to test your wings again.” The pang again went through my chest. Poor Ken Woods had lost his dragon just this way. At least my girl had Baby to keep her here. For now. I stared at the shriveled wings on his back.

Just as soon as we stepped out into the light, our girl lifted up into the air, with a joyful shriek. She, too, shot straight away, nearly out of sight. Then we watched her circle twice and shoot back, gracefully lighting right in front of me.

“That’s beautiful, Esmerelda.” I could hardly speak: she must have barely heard me. I couldn’t think of too much else to say, I was so overcome with the splendor of her short flight and the magic of her movements.

“You are so beautiful.” Reaching over the little chick, I petted the big lizard’s neck and then pulled up onto her and hugged her. “You are one awesome lady.”

It happened while I was watching my feet to be sure I didn’t accidentally kick the little one. Without any warning, I felt her lifting me. It was too late to prevent our test flight; we’d already left the ground.

“Whoops! Let me down, Esmerelda. This is too soon!” Fearful that she would want to show off again, I tried to let myself slip from her neck. But Esmerelda twisted her body around, so that I found myself seated just above her wings. She again shot straight upwards, with me clutching her neck as tightly as I could with both arms and legs. I could only hope I didn’t hurt her. Nevertheless, my grip felt secure enough to allow one look down, just to see if I would panic.

While my perch felt totally safe, the sights below did not. The world spun beneath us; it would take a lot of practice for me to learn to properly track our course. Never felt any panic, just a sort of roller coaster thrill, knowing there was no real danger involved.

After a few minutes, Esmerelda decided I had had enough. We circled the corral, and she returned to her little dragonet. By then the both of us were enveloped by the Glow. Baby Boy bounded up to his mother, with Sheol right behind. I shimmied right up to her head and spoke in an admiring whisper.

“Damn, Esmerelda. You are amazing! Good thing you know what you are doing, because I sure as hell don’t!” I slipped from her neck. The dragon watched me, silent and unblinking, and backed away, leaving behind the Glow. Baby moved right to her side as soon as the brightness left, and Sheol came over in a panic.

“Fini, what are you doing? You could have fallen to your death!” It took me a few seconds to realize that I had dropped to all fours. No matter. I picked myself up and tried to look casual.

“Not me. Esmerelda is just getting ahead of herself.” But the adult dragon was already well overhead again, screeching and swooping. Her chick cried piteously at her latest departure.

Sheol scolded me. “You have to be more careful. You could hurt your own baby!” She was right. No one should take a chance without the proper harness, and I said so, trying to look properly ashamed of myself.

The truth seemed impossible, so I kept it a secret. At no time during the flight was I in danger of falling off my dragon. On top of that, once the Glow had ignited—and that was due only to my ignorance of the situation—I knew I was protected, as was my unborn baby, from any injurious impact in a fall. So was Esmerelda, if ever she were wounded.

And it was as if we both knew--I couldn’t for the life of me guess how--that I could not fall off the dragon. She wouldn’t allow it, or the Glow wouldn’t allow it: something wouldn’t allow it. I had a new question for Lady Shinju Kameko: was there really a need for harness and saddle? Or was it simply ceremonial, for the purpose of carrying insignia into battle? In our specific case, we might not even need any sort of armor at all!

In the meantime, there was definitely a problem presented by our success. How could I take advantage of her willingness to please, and still protect my unborn child? We decided that Sheol would need to be fitted for protective wear as soon as possible.

“Let’s not break out the champagne just yet. Put the baby through whatever it is you guys do with chocobo chicks.” Sheol immediately began to walk the dragonet around the corral, teasing it along with a dead cave crab. The baby would reach for the tidbit, and she rewarded him with a little piece of shell or meat. Watching the little one race after her, I had an idea.

“Sheol, try to entice it with some Gysahl greens! If they strengthen chocobos, they may work for dragons, too.” Sheol dragged out a healthy handful from her side pack, and the baby stopped to sniff it.

“Now move along, before he finds out they’re not stinky crustaceans.” The soldier took a few steps and the chick followed her out of curiosity.

Sheol was not impressed. “We usually go for whatever excites them most, Fini. Esmé doesn’t really like greens, why should her Baby Boy?”

“Because sooner or later, they will gather nearly all their own foodstuffs. The crustaceans won’t need to be harvested, and we can simply bring on the greens.” I really wanted her to feed greens to the animals, so they would have all their proper nutrients, and maybe even raise their performance levels, same as chocobos. The little soldier rolled her eyes and sniffed.

“Eh, Fini. We can gather greens or we can gather crustaceans. I don’t think either is better or worse for them.” Her attitude gave me pause. After all, she was the chocobo maven; I wasn’t an expert on anything. So I decided to let her be the know-it-all for a change.

“You just bought yourself a research project.” She looked crestfallen. “Dig me up some facts supporting your theory and I’ll let go. Otherwise, work with both greens and crabs for now.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the big lizard’s return to earth, right next to the dragonet. She, too, was interested in the greens, or rather, the possibility that they might be something better. After a few sniffs, she contented herself with following her little one’ s progress. Sheol cooed at her.

“Is your Baby as smart as you, Esmé? When will he follow you into the air?” As stretched out as Baby was in the pasture, he looked a bit more like the classic dragon, more like the mommy. The little wings, though, remained crumpled on his back. We could pull at them, even flatten them out to measure wingspread, but the little guy didn’t seem to know how to make them work.

Baby just wasn’t ready to think about flying, and the mommy dragon kept to his side the entire time we were out. She seemed to agree that the corral was enough for the first day.

We enjoyed the minor success of their introduction to our corral, passing the rest of the time testing Baby Boy’s ability to respond to our commands. He did not distinguish himself either way. Esmerelda, on the other hand, seemed to relish answering our every desire. It certainly seemed as if she understood our language. We discussed a growing suspicion that the chick must have been behaving like a contrary toddler.

Baby Boy played all afternoon with Sheol, much of the time chasing her along the edge of the fencing. At other times he walked away to nonchalantly follow a butterfly or other vermin. Sheol would call and call, becoming exasperated and giving up. When she turned her attention to Esmerelda or me, the little one would run right back to her, nudging her middle, looking for snacks.

We passed several hours in pleasant play and observation, then returned them to the cavern. Since we had never confined them in any way, we simply left them to return to our homes.

On the way back to the Inn, I remembered what I had forgotten to check during my exhilarating introduction to dragon aviation. We had risen straight upwards on takeoff and landed in the same manner. My mount could spin herself in a continuous roll while aloft. All the while, she was a very graceful, silent glider. At no time do I recall hearing any flapping sounds, although I certainly heard the whistling of the air currents. I remembered the worlds of Shinju Kameko.

Did Esmerelda even use her wings at all during flight?

Dragon Snack?

The following day I returned to see if we could answer my question, and to explore the next level. We would introduce the dragons to the feathered stock. We could easily count on the mommy to guard her little one from the chocobos, but what about vice versa?

The birds were in the corral, grubbing for food, and they seemed to be dancing with one another.

“Dancing” may be the best way to distinguish the sparring behavior from the more serious sort of wrestling that they would practice later. And the movements were entirely different. Battle birds are extremely aggressive, even with one another, often inflicting damage during their play. That sort of belligerence was entirely aimed at chasing away any competition. And the higher level birds personified belligerence.

Keep in mind the sort of squabbling the racers encounter and multiply it many times over. Chocobos are brawlers from way back; it’s just their nature. Put a flock of them in an enclosure and they immediately fight for what they think are the best spots.

I suspected that our dragons would have something to say about that. In fact, I hoped that we could count on Esmerelda to keep some peace out there.

However, when she arrived, Sheol had a different surprise ready for me. Her gloating caught my attention: she grinned impishly—and smiling just wasn‘t ever her long suit. She even seemed to snicker as she spoke.

“Fini, I did as you ordered, but you aren’t going to like my findings.”

“Ordered? What now?” Then I remembered our argument. “Word for word, no embellishment.” She quoted the monograph at me, and yes, fowl was definitely at the top of the list.

Gysahl greens were the least of our worries. Protein was needed above all. Fortunately we had already exploited a decided taste for the crabs and other cave vermin. We could only hope that our new allies would simply prefer feral fowl over our chocobo chums.

And why not? We humans eat plenty of game birds, too. It’s always been easy enough to collect what we need and keep ourselves emotionally separated from the more edible fowl. Chocobos are simply too intelligent and full of personality to consider as food. Besides having no meat around the wings and tough, stringy stuff around the legs and breast, our birds usually mean too much to us emotionally.

Anyway, who wants to farm the animals we eat? Why care for them almost as family? They are gathered by professionals who don’t bond with them, any more than we bond with our garden plants. The Disciplines are strictly obeyed in most human communities: we eat nothing even remotely sentient, with no suffering permitted at any time. That means stealthy hunting, no chasing, and only lone adults. The old religions still apply to animal husbandry. Don’t know how anyone could stand to kill them, otherwise, except to keep down the numbers of feral, dangerous birds.

In addition, if dragons were as smart as Shinju Kameko said, then we need not separate our allies. My impression was growing that they were much more intelligent than we imagined. Maybe even more than we were capable of imagining.

It seemed to me that the feeding battle was not worth fighting. For now. Bring on the arthropods, I thought wryly; it’s not my job to collect them.

“Okay, Sheol, you win as far as training is concerned. Lots of stinky crabs. But plenty of greens to be made available, too. We can keep them in hoppers and mangers inside the caves and shelters.” I felt a little silly insisting on keeping anything in the caves. Who knows if dragons need shelter from the elements? They are part of the elements, aren’t they? We are the only above ground animals who prefer shelter.

The two of us had been walking towards the reactor, when a hand came from behind and reached around my waist to caress my belly. I nearly fainted, but instead I turned on the person, furious at the surprise intimacy.

“Who the hell?” But then I knew. Apart from Lady Shinju Kameko, no one would dare even touch me, let alone pat me on the stomach. I twisted around into the arms of Vincent Valentine, who whispered seriously at me.

“You had better know who. Who else would embrace you?” His eyes were deep chocolate brown. He snorted, “Lately, would anyone think to try? I can scarcely get my arms around all the bulk.”

“Seems like Lady Kameko wrote her own ticket for that privilege, mister. Bulk, huh? You have some nerve!

“Long time no see, Grumpus.” Not really grumpy. He looked great, same as always. He ignored the dig, and got right to the point of his visit.

“Word is going around that you are riding dragons out here.”

“Just once. My Esmerelda got a little ahead of our schedule.”

“Can’t riding wait until after our baby is born?”

“Actually, that was what I was thinking, too. I was just giving her a hug, and she took off with me on her neck. Vincent, I was never in danger of falling, I swear.” I looked around, but Sheol was already out of sight, and I kept my voice low.

“Between you and me and the birds, I don’t think it’s possible. I tried to drop down, and she wouldn’t allow it. Just sort of rolled me back up onto her. The rest of the time I felt magnetized to her neck. And the Glow eased my acrophobia!” He raised his eyebrows, then relaxed.

“Just don’t take her off to wage war, or on any road trips, just yet. How’s the little one? Our baby, that is.” He nodded down at the mail-covered belly.

“Kicking up a storm, and waking me every night.” I gently tapped my middle and giggled, but Vincent looked very serious.

“Josephine. Come home and stay with me, now. I want you with me, and to be there for you.” I hesitated before slowly countering.

“Because the baby is almost due?” He answered without missing a beat.

“Because my wife is about to give birth.”

“I don’t think so, Vincent. The twins were delivered Caesarean. You don’t need to bother; you won’t miss a thing.”

“I am missing most of the pregnancy, Josephine. It is understandable that you need your space, but the baby is also mine.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t disagree.” A lie. In fact I disagreed completely. Didn’t matter that I was wrong; it felt like my kid, and my kid alone. Already had four children I couldn’t own. This one belonged to me, and even though I would never say so aloud, no one would take it without a fight.

“That’s not true, Josephine. It’s written all over your face, and in your manner. No one can touch you, and you live by yourself, coming and going at your own discretion.

“I accept responsibility for my part in it, but regardless, the child is also mine. He or she should not be kept from me even now.

“You may not know this, but it’s there in your eyes for all to see: you can’t hide it. Like a feral cat waiting to give birth, away from the rest of the world, where she’ll raise her litter in safety.

“Josephine, that place of safety is right here, with me. Return with me to the Keep. I need to see you every morning and night, to assure myself that you’ve not suddenly become a dragon snack.

“You have nothing to fear from me, ever. You have my word, regardless of that ill-advised history lesson.” He spoke ruefully, almost mournfully, enough to make me smile. Just a little.

Because, whether I knew it or not, that was what I wanted to hear. It was as close to an apology as anyone was going to get from Vincent Valentine. He regretted his silly rant at the edge of the northeastern woodlands.

“Vincent, you know I don’t fear you. It’s just that we would not make a very good marriage. You must see that now. We are two different worlds, two separate times, and universes apart in experience.

“Besides, could you stand to fight like that on a regular basis?” His eyes flashed bright ruby red, then he narrowed them.

“We simply won’t allow it, Josephine.”

“You mean you won’t allow it. I’m not wired that way. My parents hashed out everything, point by point.”

“And you are damaged by it, Josephine. You think it made you strong, but in fact it left you vulnerable and fearful. You hate the conflict and you run away from me to escape.

“Are you so afraid I will win once in a while?” At his last question, I could fee l my temper snap. Okay, enough was enough: I was out of patience.

“Vincent. We are working here, so you have me at a disadvantage.”

“You still don’t want to work it out, even now. Yes, you are at a disadvantage, Commander. Report to the Keep at sixteen hundred hours for a cocktail before dinner at the lodge.”

“Is that an order? I had thought we were equals, both commanders.”

“Josephine. This is a request from the man who misses being part of the couple that we were—briefly—in the Spring.” His eyes were yummy chocolate again. I thought about how good he looked, and how bulky I must seem. For the first time in four months, I regretted the pregnancy, and turned away, unable to escape my huge belly. Vincent lowered his voice still further, into a deep growl. Or was it a purr?

“Don’t go. Please stay with me. We can face it together.

“Don’t you at least miss me a little?” I couldn’t answer, fretful that I no longer wanted to be pregnant, if only for the night. Vincent reached again for my waist, but I shrank from his touch. He kept me from backing away by holding both side openings of the mail.

“Josephine. Stop.” He gently ran his arms around my middle, locking his fingers behind my back, under the vest. “I’m sorry you have to carry the burden of the pregnancy alone; no one else can. And it’s a shame I ever mentioned your size; its amazing, almost magical to watch you grow. Even from a distance.”

Especially from a distance, I thought wryly. He wouldn’t want to miss the whale sighting. Nothing he was saying was helping, but he tried again.

“No. Stay with me on this. It’s not fair that the pregnancy is moving ahead so fast that you don’t even have the comfort of watching for the normal signs of gestation. Did you even know that you will be delivering soon? Matthew sent me here to announce it to you.”

“He sent you to tell me?” Despite my fleeting outrage, I knew only too well why Dr. Johan didn’t tell me. We hadn’t had a visit in weeks. Laboratories and medical offices are not my favorite places. Never were.

“Josephine, forgive my speculation, but I would guess that you are being dense with everyone. Nora’s mentioned it to me several times: you don’t discuss the pregnancy. With anyone.” At that moment he looked sad.

“That might be my fault, Josephine. It’s very difficult to separate the trauma caused by Hojo’s experiments from your anger at me, and from what may be a reaction to your own childhood, or could simply be your own obstinacy.”

“Vincent? Seriously?” Didn’t know if I was amused or infuriated.

“You are very pregnant, to understate your condition: on the verge of childbirth. At this very moment, whether you accept it or not, you could go into labor. Matthew and Nora are convinced it would be very, very hard, dangerous even. Your doctors from Shinra say that early in the history of the Jenova experiments, women succumbed to the difficult childbirth brought on by the enhancements. As rapidly as your body is changing, it is not enough to accommodate the acceleration.

“You could die if you hide from us now.” At that, I shook my head.

“I don’t think anything could kill me anymore. Esmerelda’s Akasha made me strong.”

“You can’t prove that, and we can’t take the chance.” He sounded almost anxious. Then he flatly demanded, “Meet me tonight, and we can begin to plan our baby’s arrival together.”

“Still sounds like an order to me, mister.” He looked irritated for a few seconds, drew a deep breath and spoke formally.

“Very well, Miss Lindorm. I request the honor of your presence for a pre-dinner drink this afternoon at four. Where can I meet you?”

“I’ll call.”

“Josephine. Are you coming?” He looked directly into my eyes, obviously concerned, so I relented.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Valentine; I accept. Why don’t I ring you when we are finished here? Or would you prefer I return immediately to the Inn to wash and change?”

“A call from here when you are finished work would be excellent. I’ll be waiting.” He gave me a quick peck on the forehead and released me. Then he bowed, turned and left without another word or even so much as a wave. I watched him as he walked all the way back to the armory.

My PHS chimed.

“Fini, are you coming?” I sighed. Time for a command decision.

“Sheol, call the breeders and Desirée to help you today. I’ve got some business that needs immediate attention.”

“They are already here. Actually, I’m already there.” I turned around and looked back towards the gate. Sheol waved from among the wranglers, breeders, and birds. “Do you still want to introduce the two species today?” Frankly the thought left me tired, and aching for my bed and some solitude.

“Not me, not today. Oh, hell. Why don’t you see if Esmerelda is interested? If she’s willing to come out with just you guys there, maybe we can set up a routine that needn’t include me for the next few weeks.

“Good luck with the experiment; you all can compile me a full report on the details.

“I hope to see everyone tomorrow.” I shut the PHS and walked back to the clinic. Interesting. She hadn’t seemed the least surprised. Perhaps these dire predictions of imminent delivery were common knowledge. I could be blind when I wanted. Or so Vincent said.

May as well face the music. Our baby was probably due any day.

One Last Go-Around

I wasn’t ready, not for resuming a damaged relationship, not for childbirth, certainly not when I was expecting a few more weeks’ gestation, and not for motherhood. Again. I mentally sighed, nothing is ever simple, anymore. What sort of family could we provide for our little one, when there would be no grandparents or siblings or even happily married parents?

The trip back to the armory barely gave me time to rehearse what I would say to Vincent. We couldn’t simply pick up where we left off, not after that scene on the edge of the northeastern woodlands. We would need to sort it out and precisely determine the status quo, if only for my own peace of mind.

So I marched right up to the central buildings, peeling off the mail vest as I entered the armory. Before it was completely over my head, an unseen pair of hands was assisting me.

“Soon it will not be so difficult to work with this. I hadn’t realized how trying the transition has been for you, Josephine.” I stared at Vincent, not saying anything at all, somewhat shaken by the ambush. He’d been watching from the window, and I was so wrapped up in my mental preparations, I hadn‘t seen him. He was right: no one was allowed to come near my person. As Commander, this was respected unconditionally. It surprised the very breath out of me every time he materialized to touch me.

We walked in silence to the edge of the woodlands. There was a newly-laid pathway set into the forest floor with paving stones, gleaming as the afternoon light filtered through the canopy of newly-thinned trees. That must have been quite the project, I thought wryly. Was it all for the baby and me?

Then I sighed out loud. It was just as well that we would be alone on the way to the Keep. I was about to start another argument.

“Did you want an apology?” That was me. I wanted to make an offer, and see how he countered. Earlier, none was given, but none was expected, since he‘d surprised me.

“Not if you don’t require one yourself.” He stepped in front of me, and took both my hands, an otherwise comforting gesture that only succeeding in making me feel trapped by a discussion I still hadn’t fully formed.

“No.” I already had my apology in his statement earlier, although I didn‘t dare say so. He had an impish look in his eyes, and it intrigued me. What was so funny?

“Josephine, I really did mean it about stealing a bride and turning her into a wife. In fact, I am still working on it.” My reaction surprised even me; I looked right back into his eyes and began to giggle.

“And I really did mean it about the whole concept being funny.” His answer came slowly back.

“The discussion was… instructive.” He turned towards the Keep and began to lead me by the hand. That in itself was different: he usually steered me by the upper arm into the direction he chose.

“I thought so, too.”

The new walkway led all the way to the door of the Keep. Once inside, Vincent took me directly upstairs to the “nursery.” He had already furnished it with a crib, dresser and rocking chair. There were even a few little decorative touches on the walls.

“Eleanora provided the hangings. She was afraid you would not return, and didn’t want the baby to come into a completely masculine world.” He smiled ruefully, as if he knew exactly what she meant.

“Maybe she was afraid you wouldn’t invite me back.” In that room the echo of my voice sounded timid, and a little sad, making me feel doubtful about our reunion. Saying nothing, Vincent again took my hand and led me downstairs to the first level, out back to the kitchen. Inside the refrigerator, a small snack tray waited with two wine glasses, some crudités and cheese.

“Eleanora suggested the snacks. We’d better drink now before our comrades deny us alcohol with our meal. Table red sound appropriate?”

“Vincent, are they waiting for us at the lodge?”

“Not yet. We expected you to work the afternoon before coming here. And, Josephine, I really didn’t know if you would come back. That’s why I remained at the armory, watching. Thank you for not keeping me waiting.” He handed me the half-filled wineglass, and we saluted one another silently.

Loving Light

Once we had refreshed ourselves, we cuddled in front of the empty fireplace, discussing how relaxing our solitude felt. The Keep was a perfect place to escape the constant hubbub of the militia. Except when I was engrossed in my work, I felt somewhat overwhelmed by the crowds and constant activity. It did not surprise me that Vincent also mentioned his longing for time to himself.

“You know, Vincent, it’s not as if we are contractually obliged to serve here.”

“You are not, Josephine, but remember that I am a co-founder of this base. Much is expected of me, especially after my long absence. My family now wishes to make up for lost time.” He looked resigned.

“Don’t they need to consider your feelings, too?” He guffawed, then turned serious.

“They believe they are doing so, and it serves my purposes for the present.”

“Which are?” It amazed me to hear him talk about purposes. “You have ulterior motives in your dealings with them?”

“Yes, I do. I wish to normalize our relationship first. Now, don’t get angry, but we must be able to rely on one another before we can provide a stable lifestyle for our child. My son and grandchildren already have that stability in their lives. It may take some practice before we manage it ourselves.”

He was right, of course. We hadn’t taken the time to practice domesticity. It looked to me like we both needed lessons, and I said as much.

“We have a few hours to practice right here, this afternoon.” He smiled indulgently and began to kiss my hands. I caressed his face and hair in return, staring with wonder into his lovely ruby eyes. Can never get enough of the rich, deep color.

And all I could think was, “How did we make it through that discussion without fighting?”

We laughed and played away the rest of the time before dinner. I called it Loving Light, and we gently enjoyed one another, enough to work up an appetite before returning to the Lodge. At the same time, we skirted our usually raucous activity, in favor of a more relaxing sort of pleasure hunt. We stayed on the sofa, acting like naughty teenagers while the adults were away.

In the midst of that subdued fever, I again began to acquire a heightened awareness of Vincent’s body. No, not the usual erotic reaction: I had that too, as always. It’s just that one more note suggested itself for my growing database of concerns.

Vincent never smelled of anything sour or soiled. No body odor, not even the sort of sweaty aroma I could associate with our adult fun. Just the usual sort of dust and grit acquired in a normal day of tramping the Planet.

“Geez, Vincent, don’t you ever get sweaty?” I whispered after we were both completely satisfied, damp and audibly breathing.

“Josephine, I am drenched in perspiration, just the same as you. What do you mean?” He was staring directly into my eyes, and that always makes it difficult for me to formulate a coherent sentence.

“Um, just that you never smell of sweat.” His eyebrows went up into his hairline.

“Don’t I? I can certainly smell the sexy scent of your perspiration. Am I to understand I don’t reciprocate?” He was teasing, but I insisted.

“No, Vincent. I mean, yes! You are infinitely attractive in every way possible.

“You are not sloughing dead cells; you simply do not seem to show any decay.” Well, that didn’t come out right! We were not in a laboratory. There had to be a better way to say it in neutral, layman‘s terms. But Vincent had a different idea.

“You little worry-wart. Neither do you.” He was laughing at me, obviously relieved. Maybe he didn’t get it, so I tried again.

“Doesn’t that make you think? It’s not normal: people shed dead cells.”

“Josephine, nothing is ever normal with you. Just let it go, for now. We are both quite healthy and are expecting an equally fit and vigorous child.

“We have the rest of our lives to deal with the consequences of our times in the Shinra Laboratories. And we are hardly likely to be alone; there will be others. We can compare data and experiences when we find them. Right now you and I are alone, and at least we are safe. Let’s just try to be happy when we are together.”

“Vincent, you are always so accepting of the strange circumstances we are in!”

“What else is there? You wish to fight your way out of them?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Until you do, let’s just take it day by day. Now shall we try one more time to work our way around all that bulk…?” He ducked my automatically thrown right hook, reaching back to grab my fist, and began to tickle me. Then he stopped, and for the first time since we met, looked amazed.

“You are not ticklish?” He was prodding me even as he asked.

“No, I am not. Growing up with so many older brothers, it was necessary to unlearn the tickle response. No one ever said it was possible, but it sure saved me a lot of agony at the hands of sometimes sadistic siblings.” I have always been proud of that strange little accomplishment. At the moment, it didn’t seem like such a wonderful thing. I wanted to giggle with my lover.

As always, Vincent knew what to do. He simply switched over to gentle, teasing caresses, and we were back to our earlier fun and games.

Afterwards, I pushed him up the stairs and into the shower, where we finished by amusing ourselves with warm water and suds. Then I offered Vincent a rain check on some heavier activity after the birth of our baby.

Playtime was over: we needed to be presentable for the evening meal at the Lodge. It wouldn’t seem right to waltz into dinner bringing an “aura of amorous activity” with us, especially considering the serious topic that awaited us.

Last Meal at the Lodge

Nora’s teasing question was unexpected. Would we care for a glass of wine with our dinner?

Vincent blinked and quickly turned his head to look me in the eyes. This time I ignored him, and serenely turned down the offer with a little shake of my head. It seemed so gracious that they were willing to concede a glass with my meal.

“No, Matthew, no wine with this dinner, thanks. I was under the impression we were here to discuss the impending delivery of our baby.” Dr. Johan raised an eyebrow, looking from Nora to Vincent and back to me.

“Is that how it is? Walter said that Vincent always makes his own rules. Would you please keep it to just one, then? Unless you’ve already drained a cask between the two of you.”

“Certainly not! So, do we seem pickled?” Inside, I bristled at the suggestion that we would endanger the baby with undue amounts of alcohol, but Vincent put his hand on mine. He spoke softly.

“Just enough to enjoy our afternoon at the Keep.” He said no more, and Nora waggled a finger at me where our doctor friend couldn’t see her.

That shut down any further discussions outside our prearranged agenda.

First off, Matthew insisted I get in the habit of fasting after dinner. I’d forgotten about that aspect of surgery. It surely wouldn’t have been an issue at Shinra. If Hojo felt there wasn’t time for lunch or a coffee break, it simply didn’t happen. Any laboratory specimens were treated as non-humans, with all meals and exercise at his discretion, and only the minimum needed to sustain health and prevent the needless loss of a test subject through death.

On the other hand, his suggestion caught me off guard, pointing up an important concern. I simply wasn’t ready, in my own mind. Could we get a couple more days to allow me to get used to the idea and make preparations at the Keep?

“We really should begin to outfit the nursery.” At that, Vincent gave me the inquiring eye that I was beginning expect whenever I talked about the future. Irked that he doubted my motives, I hastily added an explanation.

“Well, Vincent has already begun preparations. We have some simple furniture and decorations for the nursery. Thank you, Eleanora, they help. But, guys, we need safeguards for the arms lockers. And probably a little more attention to everyday things that may pose a minor threat to the kid’s safety, as we go along.” Nora piped up.

“And a little more of the feminine point of view, especially that of a mother.” And that was that. We had her blessing and, I hoped, her assistance in the last item. She would surely know what we could purchase and place without overdoing the girlie thing around Vincent.

Dr. Johan then said that we could select any day we liked, but the sooner the better; in his professional opinion, we were already overdue. Nora agreed, they were eager to start preparations. Besides hoping to enjoy the obvious medical advantages of a non-hurried delivery, she felt inspired by the imminent arrival of another Valentine. We settled on the end of the workweek, to give everyone some free time to enjoy the newborn.

I was enthused, too. Excited. Or maybe agitated. So much so that I could barely eat supper before we returned to the Keep, where I dropped onto the bed and slept like a dead thing.

It was nearly noon before I washed and dressed for work.

Unexpected Acrobatics

Vincent had left before dawn, dropping a handwritten letter and some fruit by the bed. The note suggested that even a half glass of wine would be best forgone until the arrival of our baby. I agreed, although it was more due to being sickened by the very thought of wine than by any virtuous decision on my part.

Right after washing and dressing, I still could not face that little dish of fruit, so I returned it to the refrigerator. As soon as I opened the appliance, my senses went on high alert. Something didn’t smell right. There was no food open anywhere in the kitchen, so I scouted the rest of the downstairs, all the while feeling a little strange. Not sick, but somewhat queasy, off-balance. Was it chemical or physical? I thought, “Must be what they are talking about, being nearly ready to give birth. Never had to worry about it before, with early delivery of the twins.”

Nothing rotten turned up anywhere, and I made sure the bathrooms were clean. Showering had not alleviated the edginess, so I decided to seek some fresh air. I hurried out the door and stumbled gagging through the woods, nearly overcome by the mixture of so many different scents assaulting my nose. Until that morning, there had been no more episodes of morning sickness. And I couldn’t really confirm the strange notion that something wasn’t right. Nothing smelled normal anywhere, and I concluded it must have been me. Or us, rather.

“Give me a break, kid. I need some more time to decorate the nursery!” What I really wanted was a host mother to take over what could be a difficult birth. Surgery, clinics, doctors: they take all the fun out of having a baby. On the other hand, a natural childbirth was never an option for me before, so I really had no idea if it would be any better.

I stopped and looked around, hoping no one could hear me talking to myself. Or muttering to the little unborn darling that was addling my thoughts and messing with my other senses. Actually, as soon as I got away from the fragrant woods I felt much better, and strolled much more leisurely the rest of the way to the ranch. The noon sunshine was beginning to warm what must have otherwise been a very cool morning, and mists were rising on both sides of the roadway.

After passing through the base, I recognized the backs of Desirée and Eleanora in the distance, on the edge of the corral. They both stood outside the fence, smoking and casually watching the hands exercise the chocobos. Desirée had her arm around Nora’s waist and Nora rested her head gently on the younger woman‘s hair. The two of them called to the other wranglers, who waved back, then also acknowledged me. While Nora, grinning shyly, simply turned her head, Desirée quickly withdrew her arm. I remember thinking it was a shame that they still felt so timid. After all, if Desirée was her companion, then she would be family. In response, I put my arm around them both and squeezed in between, like a sneaky child slipping into the parents' bed in the morning.

The girls immediately extinguished their cigarettes, making me feel slightly guilty. After all, what’s one more stink when everything smells rancid?

“Hey, guys, where are the dragons? Eaten by the chocobos?” Nora nodded in the direction of the caves, waving her hand dismissively.

“It always takes a few before she brings them out. Personally I think she wants quality time alone with her little pet.” Desirée nodded agreement and added her own snarky two cents.

“Got that right. You would think she owned the little ankle biter. Fini, she won’t share with us!” Her tone was that of a whiny kid, at which Nora swatted her on the bottom, hissing “Stop that right now, brat!” and we all laughed. Then Desirée indeed stopped pouting. “Seriously, Sheol’s determined to ride that one. She’s never showed much interest in the birds.” I thought about the sparking scythe and the chocobo‘s safety.

“Desirée, what do you do about Kitty Whip and the feathers?”

“In battle, the birds wear protective coverings, so don’t worry about my bird. And it’s easy to keep Kitty well above my mount. Besides, Leper is absolutely fearless; if anything, the sputtering seems to feed his war spirit. On the other hand, it’s probably a good thing that Sheol waited for a dragon to ride. The Reaper is not so lightweight, and it throws sparks in all directions once engaged in battle.”

As if on cue, Sheol emerged from the cave, with two dragons in tow. The little one scampered with puppy-like abandon to a pair of young men I had not yet met. They immediately put the dragonet through the same paces that I had already seen used with the birds. Once the glittering chick was occupied, Sheol brought his mommy to me, and let me help her mount up.

Esmerelda looked towards me with a question in her eyes. I reached up and petted her neck to reassure her.

“Go ahead, girl. We can work out later, after my little one arrives.” I petted my own belly and motioned to the big Green to take off. She stared intently at my midsection, even sniffing me, then brightened and zoomed right into a low level glide, returning to fly low over us. Nora playfully faked an exaggerated duck, then muttered an aside.

“You know, if she were not our ally, I would swear she must be buzzing us! She did this last time, too.”

They flew back and forth twice over the corral, then returned to earth again in front of me. Sheol dismounted, then reached up to pet the dragon’s head.

“Fini, what do you think? Is this a trust issue? She lets me ride her, but won’t soar!” Sheol looked both worried and peeved.

“Geez, I don’t know. Esmerelda loves you, so she must have trust. You stick to her like glue, right?” Sheol nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s amazing! No way could I fall. In fact, I was afraid it would be impossible to dismount, but everything is fine. Fini, maybe she’s sick.” She, too, stroked the sparkly green neck and gently patted her side.

“I doubt it. They are not like people. Still, I wonder. You okay, girl?” Of course Esmerelda simply looked at me, attentive to my speech. “Well, if you are going to glide low to the ground…”

I pulled up onto the big lizard. “Come on, Sweetie, let’s see how you are doing today--Whoa!”

We shot a hundred or so meters directly up into the air. Of course, I hadn’t taught her a word for “stop,” and had meant something like “Yikes!” instead of “Whoa.” The great lizard banked, executed a long, slow barrel roll all the way out to the ocean, then swooped back down to buzz the entire base twice.

“Back to the corral, Esmerelda! If Vincent sees me up here, there will be hell to pay.” My girl was obviously as healthy as a racing chocobo. She darted back to the ranch and floated directly over her little dragonet, scattering the two wranglers in charge of his training. Then she returned me to the exact spot where I had stood before mounting her, and floated down in an elegant, slow motion landing.

Eleanora was waiting to let me have it.

“Are you insane? Vincent told me…” I interrupted her.

“…that I promised not to fly her while pregnant. I know, I know. Nora, you saw how she tricked me. She was making a point. She doesn’t want to let anyone else ride.”

“Maybe she’s jealous of your baby?” Desirée was serious, but I still gave her the fish-eyed stare. Then I turned to my partner.

“Sheol did you notice something on any of these flights? She flaps her wings when she feels like it, not ever really needing to do it! She do that with you?”

“Now that you mention it, Fini, it’s true. She doesn’t need her wings to fly or soar, just as our Lady Grandmother said.” My Reaper buddy scolded the dragon. “Esmé, how are we supposed to train while Fini’s having the baby?”

Esmerelda looked extremely pleased with herself. Apparently she communicated just enough to get her point across to us all: she wasn’t going to be anyone else’s ride.

“Well, girl, then we simply will have to have this baby really, really soon, like today or tomorrow. Can’t let you get rusty waiting to carry me, can I?” She actually gurgle-purred, low enough so that only I could hear. We cuddled a little while, then went to watch her chick who had resumed training and playing with the two young soldiers. After a few minutes, I nuzzled a good-bye and promised to come back as soon as possible.

Still a little wobbly from my unexpected aerial acrobatics, I waddled back to the clinic in search of Matthew. Nora stayed behind a few minutes to instruct her hands and make certain everything would flow smoothly in our absence.

It would be weeks before I actually would attempt to ride my glittering winged girlfriend again.


Our Little Valentine

The meeting was to the point. The queasiness wasn’t a figment of my imagination. We were simply overdue. Worse yet, the consensus was that I wasn’t dilated enough to properly welcome the baby. The fetus grew much faster than my body could accommodate.

So there was no question we would have a surgical delivery. At the same time, Matthew insisted on using sedatives to prevent any interference from the Glow; the surgeons and staff had to be protected from Chastity Belt. The Belt had not yet become a problem during my stay at Shinra, making this usually simple procedure previously uncharted territory.

The Doctors Johnson came on the video screen during the consultation. After hearing that I was upset by the earlier record, they suggested employing the soothing chant they used with fearful or unwilling hypnosis subjects. It seemed too easy a solution, but I reluctantly agreed. We rehearsed a few times, and I was surprised to find that it worked, after all. The respite from anxiety produced an immediate and unforeseen, but lasting relief, leaving me refreshed after only a short practice. They assured me that at no point would I need to lose consciousness.

Vincent and Eleanora were called in and we decided that it would be best to deliver on the spot. Why not? I was as willing as I would ever be, and they had me right there in the clinic. Besides, we’d already passed the benchmarks of the last delivery by a week, and although the baby showed no signs of distress, my body was screaming for relief from the pregnancy. Who wants to smell garbage for days on end?

Moreover, we were all getting excited about the arrival of our latest Valentine. I couldn’t wait to see and hold my baby.

As it turned out, I lost an entire day, during which time Vincent and Nora wound up having to mother both Aerith and me. And, it would seem that we finally got an explanation for the suspected “aversion therapy” that wiped my memory of so much time in the Shinra Laboratories.

Dr. Johan was able to make the initial incisions needed for the delivery, but the excitement was telling on my nerves. The Glow was beginning to envelope him and me, and Nora could not get past it to do her job. First we tried the hypnosis, and managed to extinguish it, but Matthew was already spooked. He decided to use a different, but still local, anesthesia. Wrong move: once the cutting resumed, the surgery still put me out completely. Vincent was adamant that I should be awake, but the team was unable to rouse me. After several lengthy attempts, during which they practically abused my body, he looked directly into the camera.

“Josephine, you can see we tried. You reacted to the cutting as if to actual injury. I am sorry.” Then he signaled for the procedure to continue.

Later, on the video record, I was able to watch a very subdued delivery team hand our little girl into her father’s arms. They paused a few moments before the camera, looking like an old photo from Ancient Earth. Then Vincent put the child onto my sleeping chest and wrapped my arms around her, keeping his around mine, with the little one squalling all the while.

Watching that tender gesture caught me completely off guard and left me bawling out loud. Even now, I might still tear up when I see the record or even think of his thoughtfulness.

Because no one could predict how I would react, the sedation was not counteracted with a stimulant. After all, they didn’t need a glowing patient floating above the hospital bed, out of reach and untouchable.

Everyone tells me that the infant was brought to me a few times over the rest of the day, at first for looks-only, and later for assisted holding and nursing. Still seems a shame no one got a video of those early visits with the baby, but they just didn’t know that I would remember nothing at all. We’ve had to content ourselves with a few stills.

One can easily understand how a dragon might consider anesthesia to be attack magic, or even a status disorder. The episode left me feeling cheated and upset over the loss of valuable bonding time with Aerith.

When I woke the next day, I was furious that the entire birthing had essentially proceeded without me, same as in Hojo‘s laboratory. Still, in all fairness, it was obvious that no one expected me to completely lose consciousness.

“You ‘went deep’ on us, I think, Josephine, when Matthew began the incision.” Vincent was trying to prevent the oncoming emotional explosion. “And it was impossible to tell your true condition while you were still sedated. You seemed awake, although a little tired, and were conversing with everyone, even little Aerith.”

“But I missed the whole thing. Again!! Damn it all to hell!” I wailed, not caring if I sounded like a big, unreasonable baby myself.

“Perhaps the Doctors will have a remedy for it.” Vincent took out his PHS and called Matthew and Nora into the room. In turn, they summoned Paula and Andrea on the in-room Network monitor.

In short, we convened an instant meeting to discuss the amnesiac effect. The doctors agreed that we could attempt hypnosis sessions to restore my memory. Paula spoke directly to me.

“Perhaps we might even bring back a little more of your stay at Shinra. Fini, you can’t believe we would have deliberately destroyed your memories of us? We were friends, colleagues in the labs, at least before the pregnancy was planned. When we learned of the experiment, we insisted on being a part of it, to protect you. Hojo can be very careless with his subjects. He said he had a special interest in you as a breeder, and that worried us.”

She sounded sincere, but to this day, I still remain reserved around them, because, after all, they were among those who seemed to worship the Professor.

The baby became my constant companion over the next three days. Looking at that tousled little head, I could hardly believe she was related to me at all. She had a mop of shiny black, unruly hair, and huge eyes, like her father, although it was still too early to guess their color. While it would be a simple matter to check the genetic map, it was also just as easy to keep it a surprise, and let time tell us. We spent all our waking moments together, receiving visitors as if we were royalty.

When I wasn’t monopolizing her, Aerith moved from one set of arms to another, from lap to lap. It was obvious that our baby belonged to everyone, and the community interest in our kid was something very foreign to me. My twin girls had been pretty much left to me. There wasn’t a lot of help from either my husband’s family or mine, with both clans living on distant sides of the city, still busy with their own kids. This baby, on the other hand, was going to have a passel of aunties and uncles, right on the base. I was most surprised to discover that I was expected to nurse the little girl right there, with everyone in attendance, gently offering encouragement and advice.

The baby spent a significant amount of time hidden under a bed-shawl, to give her some semblance of solitude and me some little pretense of modesty. We would not even have had that if Shinju Kameko hadn’t wisely seen the need for something cozy while in the clinic. A lot of dragon wisdom, or just plain common sense, in that lady, who startled us all with the announcement that she and our little one shared the same “engendering” day. Whatever that meant, at the time I didn’t know, although she assured me she wouldn‘t celebrate a birthday for months.

We also discussed an extra name for Aerith. In the old days, a "middle" name was customary, then everyone got a little silly, piling on monikers until even the child couldn’t possibly ever use them all.

Vincent and I simply wanted to name her after our lost comrade, Aerith Gainsborough. And in doing so we encountered a minor challenge.

Aerith’s own father, Professor Gast, also worked in the Shinra labs, long ago. He had left to escape the evil experiments that released Jenova on the Planet, but was killed when Hojo tracked him down. By that time, he had contacted and fallen in love with Aerith’s mother, the last Cetra. Mother and baby were captured and imprisoned at Shinra, and they too managed to escape. (Hojo’s hubris seemed to barely cover a sloppiness that ran through all his work.) Her mother gave Aerith to Elmyra Gainsborough just before she expired at the train station in the slums of Midgar.

So, actually, she had two equally important identities to honor: Gast for a brilliant scientist and courageous battler against Shinra tyranny, and the surname Gainsborough for her sweet, loving adoptive mother, still alive and mourning in Midgar. We settled for G, no period to mark either abbreviation.

In less than three days, the birthing clinic’s regimen began to take its toll on me. Feeding, changing, exercising and testing, all were carried out on a strict schedule, no exceptions. If I were not carefully watching the clock, I could miss time with Aerith G. And while nursing was not exactly out, the baby wouldn’t be allowed to sleep with us, or even to come to the Keep before at least six weeks. By all evidence, she was a totally normal baby, but we feared she might be something different. It was only a matter of time before we would begin to notice her uniqueness.

We dreaded another monster like Sephiroth, although no experiments occurred in the womb. Still, with Jenova mutants as parents, it was almost certain we could expect something unusual to appear at any time.

So it would have been short-sighted not to permit the extended observation period. All the Doctors took turns watching our little newcomer. Andrea and Paula even flew in from Midgar to participate, as well as to begin their experiments on my own psyche, in hopes of restoring my memories.

Every day I traveled to the community clinic, and every night I reluctantly returned to the Keep. For me, the ideal would have been to remain overnight, but the doctors wanted me to get the maximum amount of sleep possible.

At all times I was constantly on alert for any changes in Aerith G’s status. This was something I did with my other daughters, too. It was common for me not only to lose sleep over their little snuffles and other noises in the night, but also to see those concerns carry over into my dreams, resulting in anxiety nightmares. After a few days under the new regime, the night terrors simply evaporated. Once when I was missing the mewling infant, Vincent consoled me by expressing his satisfaction at the results of the separation.

“You see, Josephine, you become all wrapped up in your work, whatever it happens to be. With the community crêche taking some of the responsibility from us, we can relax and enjoy time together.” I was not so thrilled, but it was good that Vincent could point up the positive aspects of our separation. Otherwise I would be very unhappy and depressed over lost time with the baby.

That first weekend, we returned to the Keep for a series of idyllic nights and even an occasional day.

That little bit of “R and R” worked wonders on my nerves. “Romping and resting,” of course: I could never take Vincent’s presence for granted. He was my entire world on those days we stayed at the Keep. We only ventured forth to find the things we would need for Aerith G and her bedroom.

In the end, we managed to add a couple of simple touches to the nursery: child-safe guards in the armory lockers and baby toys for the crib. Nothing too girlie, just some stuff that any road warrior’s baby should have. We introduced a little dragon motif and were ready to welcome Aerith G when she was deemed normal enough for home.

In the meantime, we both returned to work. Shortened hours: Vincent said we needed a little more time to practice domesticity, and I became a part-time nursemaid, part-time housewife, and part-time commander.

Strange as it seemed at the time, the world had not stood still in my absence. In many ways, the torch had passed.

Here a dragon, There a dragon

Flying Lessons

Sheol met me at the corral with the latest news. Baby told her his name.

It is Spike, which she had been casually calling him for days, as his horns were just beginning to show. At that point, he only had a couple of cute little points, to match his emerging teeth. The overall effect was adorable, and everyone was developing the habit of rubbing the little hornlets over his eyes for luck (actually I had heard it was for increased fertility). Sheol did not approve, because Spike was becoming spoiled by all the added attention. As a result, she was prone to sighing when she mentioned her little charge.

“I’d been calling him my Spikey friend whenever he was cooperative, and scolding him with Little Spikey Butt when he wasn‘t. He seemed pleased with me whenever I called him either. The other day, I was discussing his developing behavior and looks with the breeders, when he came right out of the caves, just as if I called him, and joined us for some play time. Now he answers to it as his name; when I call, he comes running."

Sheol sighed and gestured towards her little lizard.

“I just had that feeling. Spike was right. Esmerelda made her happy gurgling noise at me when I verified the name with her. I can’t quite tell if I thought up the name myself or if she or he let me know it in my mind.

“He definitely has two spikes, one growing over each eye, just like Buddy, not to mention the ridge down his back like Esmerelda. The plates are beginning to form on his belly and his muzzle is longer. His mother spends less time with him and more time away from the chamber. Our little fellow is growing up.

“And, Fini, you have to watch this! Esme is teaching Spike to fly!”

Sheol took me aside, to the edge of the corral.

“Esmé, show Fini your exercises!” The two dragons picked up their necks and looked over to me. I waved back and shouted encouragement.

“Let’s see what you can do, guys.” I had no idea what was coming next, expecting some sort of little dance between mother and baby. That expectation was confirmed. Sort of.

I was appalled to see Esmerelda charge directly at Spike, apparently ready to bowl him over on the ground. Instead they both rose together in a gyrating motion that continued in the direction of the charge. The result was a continuous intertwining like the snakes on a caduceus or a full-motion graphic representation of the DNA double helix. She was teaching Spike her signature barrel roll across the base, back and forth.

Was Spike really flying or was it similar to how she carries us? While his wings remained flat and wrinkled, we already knew that they were unnecessary for flight. At no point did she flap hers, either. In fact, their flight was so rapid and fluid, it would not allow for any motion of either wings or limbs. Only the tails showed independent motion, still generally following the undulation of the rest of the lizards’ bodies. But Esmerelda was certainly cultivating an enthusiasm for aviation in her son. Once back on earth, the kid pranced enthusiastically at his mother’s side, seemingly hopeful for more at any given moment.

By now, there was no question in my mind that our friends were training us as much as we were teaching them. In fact, the whole operation seemed to be a reciprocal effort, a joint project, in which we learned one another’s strengths and limitations.

We spoke constantly to our charges, and they understood everything we said to them. I could only hope that we were able to return the favor, but it would not surprise me if someday they explain to us that we were a little dense and slow on the uptake.

After all, Sheol and I are only human, and humans talk way too much even for my tastes.

Return of the Blue Lindworm

As I had hoped, Adrianna and Ken found solace in one another’s arms. Not only were they an “item” at the base, but they were actually cultivating some sort of conspiracy. Everyone seemed aware that our two dragon seekers knew a wonderful secret, but only Adrianna was able to tell me, and only after I had jokingly insisted on a full report of their findings in the hills. At our first meeting, Ken began to tell me about someone they found in the highlands, but after a few stuttering attempts he gave up. He was so ill at ease, I began to fear that maybe Sephiroth or Hojo had returned and were responsible for such an unusual display of discomfort.

Later, when Adrianna and I were walking back towards the base, she spilled the beans: They’d seen Buddy!

He came to them for a short visit while they were on the Northern side of Mt. Nibel, where it is sheltered, desolate and high enough to be cold even in summer. He stayed with them until they returned below the tree line. The time mage asked me a couple of times: Could it be the heat that’s keeping him away from the base? It had not been especially hot, but the dryness was unusual even for late summer. I said that seemed very likely, but I had one more question.

“Buddy comes and goes. We already know that from before, when he entered the cave to court Esmerelda. So what do you think brought him back this time?“ Adrianna took me back a few steps, and turned us away from the base, a sly smile spreading across her lovely face.

“Love! Fini, I swear he was drawn to us by our erotic activity! That’s what is upsetting Ken. Twice now we were caught in the act! Originally I had hoped to talk to you about it, but you were busy with the baby. I finally consulted with our Lady Grandmother. Nana was tickled pink and has essentially been cheering us on, very pleased to hear of the connection.” It suddenly made a lot of sense to me, and the two of us simply smiled at one another and nodded in unison, finally dissolving in knowing giggles.


Dragons don’t think nasty thoughts the way we do; their Akasha is very much tied up in sexuality and reproduction. And when we humans are under the spell of erotic love, we too, can feel the magic, even apart from any contact with dragons. For many people who are not strong-willed and sure of their life’s purpose, the pursuit of sex is a misguided attempt to find meaning. Misplaced sexuality can engulf those weaker minds, and cease to be the powerful life enhancement it is meant to be. As with any other magic, there is an art involved, and when carelessly indulged, erotic appetite becomes an all-consuming addiction.

During the last few millennia, men have recognized the sexual magic exuded by the world’s lindworms. Obviously, it’s where we get all our randy jokes about dragons relating to manhood: sometimes it is best to keep a sense of humor when the magical aspects of human reproduction can be almost overwhelming. I concluded that Adrianna must have gotten the lion’s share of Akasha from her grandmother, and wondered if poor Ken might be a little insecure in the face of all her enchantments.

“Didn’t know that you were related to the old lady. Your name the same? Are you a Kameko, too? How did I miss that?” Actually I had never asked her last name, and realized it even as I asked. Her answer was characteristically both nonchalant and almost totally incoherent to me.

“No, Fini. When I morphed the Ribbon in battle from a Master Tonberry, my parents gave me the new one, ‘Maestraeon’ as my surname. I was still very little, but my magic goes back to my early childhood. It’s not entirely from materia and lore, but rather more like an instinctual understanding of physics and their inevitable progression and possible reversal. Something like mathematics or algebraic relationships. Matter, energy, time, gravity, they are all related and understanding their control comes from the same source.”

“Huh? What are you, an Ancient or something?” My head was spinning. She looked me right in the eye and cooed, pleased that she had finally gotten my attention.

“No more an Ancient than you are, Commander Lindorm. You could be a ready student of these arts. You seem manifestly receptive to the Esoterica.”

Okay. That was way too much information for me to process at the moment. I promised her I could take her word on that, and would check in with her later for instruction. If I were not too dense a student for that sort of Arcana.

Late Summer In Nibelheim

A cool, early winter was predicted for Nibelheim, and the harvest promised to be huge. The grapes were pronounced excellent, full of flavor from the dry summer, so winemaking preparations had already begun with high aspirations for the Beaujolais Nouveau. My personal favorite of the local wines would be produced amidst the customary fanfare of harvest celebration.

Equally important, working the Fruitlands’ orchards occupied every available farm worker. While the various individual fruits were small and crisp, overall the crops were unusually abundant from the same arid conditions. Each season’s yield is different from that of the previous year, and Fruitlands adjusts its workforce accordingly. Nibelheimers tweak their schedules in accordance with the bounty offered by nature. The added work makes the resultant festivities all the sweeter.

While the general populace was willing enough to accept the occasional overload, it was necessary to pare human resources at Nora’s Pride to accommodate the additional farmwork needed to bring in the harvest. There were fewer wranglers and breeders on hand for the dragons, as all operations went on skeletal crew and minimal business hours. As a result, Sheol and I were needed more than ever to handle the exercise aspects of draconic husbandry. Furthermore, we wanted to be the ones to begin the flight training for Spike. Our bonding had proven to be rock solid: he loved us nearly as much as his own mother. And he and Sheol were fast becoming inseparable companions, the core of many activities that involved any human or bird within hearing and sight.

An Act of Faith

Esmerelda and I, on the other hand, found much less time for our own training. Desirée’s comment about the lizard being jealous was largely unfounded, but we could barely schedule our sessions. And it seemed imperative that we set the example needed to interest our little Spike in his own solo flight. The only thing preventing us was a lack of definitive communication with our allies. We were increasingly sure they understood our speech, but they could not respond in kind. We had to be able to watch for one another’s safety, comfort and health, while still making ourselves ready for any upcoming battles. After days of trying little steps towards giving and receiving commands, we were left with a sense of dissatisfaction. Our work seemed incomplete, and my emerald angel was becoming restless. Something was bothering her and an inkling was forming at the back of my mind.

“What do you want, Lady?” I would ask whenever we could not finish an exercise. It seemed impossible that she could be incapable of anything at all. Her magic had always been so strong, carrying me through the early days of our collaboration, as if on the wings of her will alone. It was time for a new tack; I had to know her better.

One late afternoon, when I was feeling well rested and contented with my husband, our baby and domestic life, I swung up onto her neck and pulled myself into a sitting position right above her wings. The world was my oyster and I wanted the air, too.

I let out a joyful shout, “Esmerelda! Take me wherever you wish; let’s see what you can do, Girl!” Once again my winged serpent shot into a perpendicular climb, making a lovely corkscrew right up into the cloud cover. Instead of my usual acrophobia and terror of speed, I was exhilarated by the bold maneuver on her part, shrieking with glee. She also began to scream, climbing ever higher as we called to the sky.

Only the Highwind, Captain Cid’s ship, had ever taken me so far above the ground. The clouds formed a lace and cotton-ball cover over the Planet, and I knew I should not have been able to breathe. The dragoness was protecting me, keeping me safely attached to her and providing whatever I needed to survive the altitude.

“Esmerelda, where are we going?” The shout was lost in the racing winds, but no sooner had I asked than it became clear we were headed northward. In a very short while we were well past the mountains, and I could see the desert below. And we were rising higher still.

The wind whistled in my ears most of the time we climbed, but as soon as my steed leveled off and hovered, other sounds were coming to me. Dragon shrieks began to envelope us, followed by the visible manifestation of many, many different lindworms from every corner of the Planet. There were hundreds, maybe a thousand of the giant winged lizards all around, above and below us, their scales a veritable rainbow sparkling in the afternoon sunlight.

Esmerelda began to scream again, only this time I discerned a certain tonal pattern, true music in their calls. All were in a group conversation with my glittering green mount. I felt humbled and privileged to be included, and relieved that we had not erased the beautiful creatures from our world. For once in my life, I remained speechless and listened to the melodic tones going out and coming in.

By the clock only a few hours passed as we swirled and communed with winged beings completely at home in the air, warmed only by one of the coldest sunsets I've ever seen and felt. However, the time we spent gliding among the other dragons remains uncountable, its reckoning lost in the thrill of the hypnotic sights and sounds. We spun up and down and around, always moving, closer and farther from the others.

The variety of dragons is almost infinite, and the colors and motion were mesmerizing. It felt like days, a long pleasant dream of magnificent flying creatures and constantly changing background music, rising and falling according to the nearness of the singers. I understood nothing, but instead got a wonderful feeling of glorious joie de vivre.

Were the flying serpents simply giving one another their status? Sort of “Hi. How are you? I am well!” conversations that came and went, each dragon checking in with every one of the others? At the time I couldn‘t absorb it all; it seemed an overwhelming swelling and diminishing, an arpeggio of music and emotion. Except for imparting the feeling of communal well being, their messages or stories were lost on me, a child too young to appreciate grownup talk.

Then I saw Buddy. Or rather Esmerelda spotted him and moved in closer, and he mirrored her motion. The Great Northern Blue circled us, and for a moment his presence seemed to confuse my steed, and she halted in mid air.

Around us the shrieking died down, and the two huge flyers simply faced one another in silence. We hovered for a small eternity, not moving or making a sound. When I could stand it no longer, I reluctantly ended the spell by speaking to Buddy, scolding him for leaving us.

“We missed you, little friend! You just about broke Ken Woods' spirit when you left.” But of course I had known all along that the Great Blue likely had other things to attend when he flew away. “When you tie up all the loose details, will you return to Nibelheim? We could use you, you know.”

How I dared to speak to such a grand creature in that manner, I’ll never know. It has always been my way to address animals as if they were family, or rather my adopted babies, and I did that with Buddy.

How did I plan to “use” these wonderful, mystical beings? Most of their magic was inaccessible to me, rarely ever seen even in those ill-fated battles on the way to the North Crater to stop Sephiroth. While it was clear that we had not wiped out the species, our need of dragons would be largely for our own benefit. All the same, I still wanted Buddy; we needed Buddy. Esmerelda needed him.

As magical as they are, dragons still must obey the laws of nature, requiring a mate to reproduce. How could I convince Buddy that he should romance my Esmerelda? I could not bring myself to voice such wishes; if we were on solid earth, I would certainly have left them by themselves, letting Nature have her way with them.

At first there was no response. The drake was politely attentive, and had let me speak. Then he moved in closer to Esmerelda. I felt no dread, even though their last meeting had resulted in disaster, nearly killing us all and laying waste to almost an entire nursery of eggs. At that moment, I feared nothing, and trusted my friends to work things out.

With a shyness completely uncharacteristic of either, the two dragons began to bring their muzzles together. It was almost too good to be true, and I felt a little like a voyeur at first. The great necks stroked one another and a lovely deep rumble came from each animal, as they began their courtship. They already knew each other, and now that the time was right, could be friends. The two dragons also knew I wanted them to be lovers. Had Fate united them, or was our human meddling the catalyst?

All my hopes were coming together in the tender caresses of the sparkling winged lizards. For a few moments I watched them, enthralled by the thought of their union. Then it hit me: Of course I wanted them to mate, but not at that very moment! I could be killed.

Grampa Lindorm had described the draconic love dance as an exquisite mutual coiling embrace that mirrored the origin and destruction of our very Universe. One tiny human lady could not possibly survive such an act of self-abandonment, the coming together of two numinous, immeasurably potent forces deliberately losing themselves in the moment.

When Buddy’s head moved down Esmerelda’s neck towards me, I reached up and began to stroke him, cooing all the while, trying to encourage, yet delay the inevitable.

“That’s right. A gentleman waits for the lady to invite him first. We tend to get a little cranky when we are overwhelmed with mothering duties, you know.” The Great Blue Northern Lindworm pulled away, returned for a quick nuzzle with Esmerelda’s elegantly short nose, then backed up and out of sight in one motion. The air around us once again swelled with the heavenly music.

Esmerelda craned her neck around to face me, and I caught a sense of peace and gratitude. They were foreign to me at that moment, and for the first time since we left ground, I felt the fear of the height. Not to mention the very strange situation in which I found myself, the only human in the middle of so many flying lizards.

I was a child who had watched while adult family members indulged in their love-making. Later, my glittering girlfriend would explain that they gave one another a rain check on a future rendezvous, what I had hoped for all along. Still, at that time I was shaky from the strange interlude and needed to go back to my own husband.

Poor Vincent was in for his own wild ride that night! My libido was jazzed by the close encounter of the two behemoths, even though I was uncomfortable with the thought of what nearly happened in my presence.

“Uh, girl? Can we go home? This has been amazing, but now I need some solid ground under my feet.” Hated to be the wet blanket, but it was time to be just an earth-bound person again. I was comforted by the certainty that she understood through a sort of silent conversation, and we were on our way earthward again. In short order my girlfriend was effecting a beautiful hovering landing in an already dark corral.

Night-time Fireworks

“Fini, where have you been all this time?” Sheol was there with the Scythe sparking and sputtering, the only light outdoors. Spike was watching her every move, fascinated by the colorful trails she was drawing in the dark.

“Spike‘s learning about Reaper.” Esmerelda took her leave and moved in next to the little one, settling down in a happy heap, ready to watch her offspring perform. For his part, Spike began to show off, circling the little soldier and her glowing weapon, moving in and out, as if to tease her into using it.

Sheol was wielding the Scythe as one would use a laser wand to lure and dazzle a kitten. Then she cautiously climbed onto the little guy, waving Reaper and throwing sparks in every direction.

While the dragonet certainly did not fear Reaper, he never took his eyes off the shimmering weapon. He moved gingerly about the corral with his head craned around, his saurian features spooky in the reflected light. Nor did he ever leave the ground, content with carrying Sheol around the enclosure, and showing off for his appreciative mother as she cheered his latest accomplishment.

“Once he gets used to the novelty of the Sparkler aspect, maybe Spike will treat me to a trip over the corral. I only wish we knew just when we could expect his first flight.”

With pretty fireworks to enchant Spike right there on the ground, the three of us feared we might never see him fly. Sheol sighed again, dismounted and wandered over to the dragoness and me.

“We were afraid he might not react well to Reaper. Its popping and crackling are fearsome, but Spike has other ideas. He’s really excited by the sputtering and sparks. I could almost swear he feeds on the electrical energy. He began to throw his weight around the corral, chattering and hissing at everyone while we fooled around with the effects, drawing patterns in the darkness.

"Spike even tried to goad the larger chocobos into his own frenzied play, but they were not interested. Our birds always wind down in the darkness, while Spike was obviously enjoying a second wind. Already he seems to be too much for them. After a while there was something of a riot; the birds were squabbling and warking, and the dragon gurgling and hissing. The other wranglers were intimidated by the increased activity, and moved the chocobos away from the whole scene.”

“In the end it was just us playing in the dark.” She sighed one last time and addressed my steed.

“Your son’s quite a handful, Lady. You missed all the fun.”

But her dragonet was visibly tuckered out, moving much more slowly and nosing under the mother’s breast, seeking out the suede-like soft spot. The great lizard looked right at me, and I knew it was time to call it a day. I, too, was exhausted.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized what had transpired. Except for the dragonet, we were all communicating very well, indeed.

Verbal communication wasn’t necessary; mental imagery was enough. Never would I have any impression of words or speech with the dragons. Pure thought worked best: it was faster and unencumbered by the need to translate or decode.

Once I let go of language, all dragons were accessible to me from any part of the Planet, at times over great distances. The music was just the beginning, the tentative knocking at the door of my mind. A sweet sort of “Psst!” or other attention getter. It makes emotions very easy to read, like when people hum the songs that best describe what they sometimes feel.

Soothing draconic music would become part of my repertory, little by little replacing the thoughts that made me so jumpy and neurotic.

All that came to me much later. It was very dark, quite late, and we all needed rest. Vincent was surely waiting for me. It was bedtime for everyone.

Poor Vincent! "Bedtime" would not translate to "rest" in the Keep that night.

Dragon magic dictated otherwise.

Little Bit of Lore

Ancient History

Around that time, I had begun to think of Lady Kameko as the Dragon Lady, but when I mentioned it, she dismissed the notion out of hand.

“This old woman has never ridden a dragon, even though we spent many years working together. When our allies were all killed in the first Technologic Wars, my heart was not strong enough to seek out the surviving non-combatants. And we didn’t want to call attention to them. They’ve been here in the hills all along, perhaps offended that we never rejoined them. It was partly my fault that the Lesser Dragons attacked your party when you entered the caves. We could have warned you--we could have warned them--and we didn’t. We were too afraid of Shinra.” Her usually shining eyes dimmed with pain at the admission.

After our soaring flight in the cold-sunset meeting skies, Shinju Kameko had appeared, as if on cue, the very next morning. She was convinced that the time was right for Nibelheim to reclaim its title as the Planet’s center for human-dragon cooperation. She continually amazed me with her limitless storehouse of lore. Or was it simply memory? She began to rant against our ignorance.

“What’s wrong with everyone these days? Does no one remember that the Nibelheim name was given to celebrate the fact that the dragons lived here in the mists of morning fog?

“This, too, may be my fault. We should have sent out our grandchildren to rebuild the alliance. Just like in the old days. When the first settlers arrived, they found the dragons outside the caves and lived along side them, as neighbors.

“The dragons loved the mists, because they believed the clouds had moved to earth to make them a home. We humans, too, were drawn to reconnect with the heavens. It used to be said that the Mists of Nibel carried the souls of all the dragoons that ever died in battle. That is the dragon in our souls, making the Akasha our birthright, too!” And I knew she meant me, the granddaughter of Dragoon Yoshikuni. It was strange to hear it said aloud, because since I was very little, I wondered if our surname meant we were actually descended from the lindworms.

One day our Lady Grandmother brought a present for Spike and her granddaughter Sheol, gifting them with cameo neck pieces. On them a squire, or very young soldier, was depicted riding a dragonet through the clouds. She announced that Spike was ready to fly, since he was willing to accept Sheol and Reaper, adding that she could feel a new era approaching.

“It has been too long since our dynasty raised our last baby. Kameko will once again know the Akasha of dragons. My friends again surround me, and I am beginning to know peace. It makes me hope that now my work is finished and I can rest.”

She also brought another ornament, in the classic Damascene style, glittering jewels against a jet black background, with both a demon and a dragon facing one another as if to intertwine.

“Yoshikuni Lindorm’s granddaughter should wear the signet of her house! Your husband worked with me on this, so his, too, is included in the design. The dynasties have been apart long enough.” I wondered what she could mean. It was common knowledge that Vincent and I occupied the Keep in the Northeastern Woods.

“Lady, we’ve been together again for some time now.”

“Bah! You don’t know. Didn’t your Grandfather tell you anything about your family?” No, he had not. This obvious omission intrigued me, yet still I felt the need to defend my family.

“My father and mother wanted us to celebrate both sides of the family equally. My mother, especially, wanted us to connect with her own clan back in the Junon forests, but when we returned, there was no one left. She always seemed a little sad about it.” It hurts even today to remember the bewildered regret expressed by my Mum over the loss of contact. I wanted to ask about that, but Lady Kameko was already on it.

“That’s probably so. Shinra cleaned out as many warriors over there as here. Only in Wutai did the traditions remain, and that was because they chose to surrender. Our people, yours and mine, never gave in, even though their efforts were rewarded with the decimation of our ranks and the annihilation of the battle dragons. Your roots are here, too, as well as around Junon. Never forget and never forgive! Stay on guard, the evil may still be lurking.”

“That’s terrible! Are my Mum’s people really gone?”

“Some should have survived, same as here. Same in all wars: many people die, but many remain. The Planet goes on.”

So it became clear to me that, for Lady Kameko, the medallion would replace the band I so often refuse to wear. Vincent would never say die. Unfortunately, it came on a chain, just like Sheol‘s cameo. I never wear chains; they don’t flatter my complexion--they itch and leave a rash--and I absolutely loathe them.

“Lady, perhaps we should commission some armor to carry it, something like an armband or vest…” Shinju cut me off, her voice all but dripping in sarcasm.

“The armor is not necessary. Neither you nor your Esmerelda need hand-crafted protection. You already know this. Wear the signet on your neck, same as the dragons. They, too, must carry the same badges. You will all belong to the same alliance now, like in a marriage.” Then there was a very uncharacteristic hesitation, but she pressed on, her eyes ever young and dark among the paling wrinkles.

“Child, you are wrong not to reconcile completely…”

“Lady, I just said…”

“No! It is not the same. Playing house is not marriage. You must also strive to be best friends in life, not just lovers. I have been married a few times in my years, so you should listen to me.” Then she closed her mouth, and for the moment, appeared to retreat. While the wisdom of a truly ancient lady is not to be taken lightly, my own world was already crowding in around me. The words came tumbling out.

“Vincent still has many unresolved issues and so do I. Our memories are not yet complete. We need to reconnect with our roots to clear things up. Until we each are fully comfortable with who we are in our current situation, we cannot pledge ourselves to one another. Not in a permanent way, not until death do us part.”

Shinju frowned, shaking her head at me all the while; no, she would not concede. Her multiple marriages had all been lifelong. As were all the marriages in my own family, until my ex-husband broke the chain, succumbing to his own grief and need for a helpmeet.

“Growing up together, even for adults, is what makes the marriage lifelong. Accept the differences and learn to live with the changes. Your first marriage must have taught you to roll with the setbacks. You did it once; you can do it again. Practice will make it easier as time goes on.”

While wedded bliss for the rest of my life sounded wonderful, I knew that that was highly unlikely with our combative personalities. We could only be glad of our current honeymoon-like existence for as long as it lasted.

Preparations for flight

My dragon was busy on her own each day, usually leaving as the wranglers were playing with Spike. I suspect I know where she went. Or more likely to whom. The weaning had begun, the baby‘s solo flight would surely soon follow.

In the back of my mind, Esmerelda was telling me such things, thus beginning our “conversations.” Sheol had been having them, too, only she accepted them as natural. Increasingly for her, dragons were a part of a proud heritage. Mine, too.

It began to seem obvious, even to me, that I really am dense, especially for a woman, unable to pick up on the conversations and relationships around me. Lady Kameko admitted she already had many visits with Sheol and her little charge. In Nibelheim, everyone does, all the time, still do; I just didn’t notice.

As for my family, my siblings still in the foothills outside Midgar, we were raised to consider other people’s comings and goings to be their business alone. We were to guard our own lives, our own behavior, and to separate ourselves from the crowd. As a result of my upbringing, I was a bit taken aback to learn that even Eleanora had brought our little Aerith G to see the old woman.

When I expressed that surprise, Nora made it clear that, as the baby's mother, of course I was invited along. It was never voiced because it was simply assumed that I knew and I would go. Indeed, one time we went together, and the vision was stunning. Was this baby even from my body? Raven-headed Eleanora, every bit as darkly beautiful as Vincent, only very feminine, holding the tiny creature nearly hidden by her own huge mop of black hair. Lady Kameko finished the picture, adding a timeless touch with her shiny white mane.

Her rich hair color now gone with age, Shinju was no longer dark, looking blonder than I, although much smaller in stature. It struck me that this woman was very likely my relation, also, only over a distance. The kinship is almost palpable, not at all abstract. Something in our blood, maybe.

Nana, Gramma, Lady Grandmother, and ShinShin to the babies. What a neat old lady! I remembered Vincent’s teasing prediction that I, too, might become the grande dame of the village, surrounded by adoring descendants.


Talking to the Lindworms

Let me backtrack a bit. Our first draconic conversations were actually when I began to muse about the lindworms and their history with Mankind. Esmerelda would plant seeds in my thought and I would ruminate on them. She must have understood that I wasn’t ready to mentally speak with her directly, although little by little I was becoming aware that we were communicating.

At one point I even experimented with simply thinking at her, and of course, she responded. That brought back the words of my Grampa, who used to say his charger could sense his mood and acted accordingly.

Shinju Kameko reacted to my timid observations with this diatribe: “Foolish people were so afraid of the dragon, when they were really too stupid to simply accept the learning that was offered. Back in Ancient North America, the entire population actually believed that dragons did not exist! They thought they were simply a myth or relegated to their own ancient pre-history.

"Elsewhere, in the lands to the South, and even more so in Ancient Asia, it was different. The people never gave up their link to the dragons, or feathered serpents, although they rarely saw them.

"Ancient Asians could still feel their presence and honored it with parades and artwork. On the other hand, the Ancient Europeans were busy trying to destroy them right up to the time they declared them a fairy tale. First they feared them, then they eradicated them, then they mythologized them.” She shook her head with disgust. “What a waste!”

“And yet, the draconic tradition persisted beyond the Great Cataclysm that destroyed the Ancient World. And the dragons rose again, to accompany men while they began to rebuild our Planet as we now know it. We are no smarter today, but perhaps it is not too late to learn.”

Even as Shinju spoke, I could sense a weariness, her need to pass the torch to someone. The lore came in a mighty unburdening, pouring out at all times. She was all but begging me to release her from that lifelong task, as guardian of the old traditions.

Was I ready to pledge my allegiance and shoulder her burden? Not quite yet. My most urgent loyalty was to my family, and for that we would need to regroup. My first-born daughters had yet to become acquainted with the Dragon Lady that was now their mother. That family had to rejoin me, maybe even in Nibelheim.

Could I reconcile the two sides of my own history?

Peril Behind Forbidden Falls

“You can’t be thinking of going into such a dangerous situation without me!” I was shouting and didn’t care. “There won’t be a decent healer among you.” Vincent refused to be goaded, his tone remaining serene and reasonable.

“I will be the healer. Not dedicated, but we can work around it, with me in the back row.

“Both parents should not be put into danger, Josephine. Someone has to stay behind. Preparations have already been set in motion, and it’s men-only this time.”

“What does that mean?”

“Only the men will set out…”

“Vincent, don’t exasperate me. You know what I’m asking. Why only the men?” At that, Vincent laughed out loud just once, exploding in a huge guffaw that irritated me no end.

“No particular reason; we were the ones in charge when the increased enemy activity was reported. Josephine, no one is deliberately trying to exclude anyone.

“Can’t you simply accept the situation?” I shook my head.

“I don’t have to accept anything anymore.” I felt it was my turn to state my side succinctly and firmly, but at that, Vincent simply froze, his patience suddenly evaporating. There was no mistaking the harsh snap of his answer.

“Please. Stay. Home.” His lips were tight, the boyish attractiveness leaving his eyes. We were done fighting about it. Time for a change of tactics. I reached up and gave him a quick peck on those angry, yet still-luscious lips.

“Okay, if you say so.” I quickly turned to leave, as if I had business elsewhere, in an attempt to salvage my self-respect.

“Josephine, what are you up to?” He narrowed his eyes and fairly growled; making my insides quail just a bit. It took all my willpower not to react, to make my response sound sweetly neutral.

“Nothing. If you say to stay home, then I will stay home.” At that point, I could feel my lip curling, and I was glad he couldn‘t see. Surrender is such a lousy feeling for me. I repeated his original request, in a parody of a subordinate's recitation.

“Sir! Orders are to stay away from the waterfall. Dryness leaving an opening where monsters are exiting. The men will make a foray into the cave beyond and I am not to quit the Keep without notifying the Quartermaster, and then only to go directly to the base. Sir!” He nodded, not convinced of my cooperation.

To this day, I suspect they were afraid they would be killing dragons, but Vincent insisted my exclusion was to protect our daughter from becoming an orphan. In fact, it has always been Nibelheim policy not to put both parents in a raid or search party unless absolutely necessary.

“Josephine, if you turn up anywhere along the way…”

“What?? Didn’t I already tell you okay?” Wide-eyed innocence was useless on him, but I tried it anyway. There would be no surprise visits from me. And as far as I was concerned, he was on notice that I did not approve of the mission.

The most frightening aspect of our separation was our inability to remain in contact. They would press deep under the planet’s surface, where the PHS could not penetrate. We would be on pins and needles the entire time, waiting for word of their safe return.

They were scheduled to come back in a day, two at the most. By the first afternoon I was feeling grumpy and edgy, tired of helplessly waiting for news. The change in weather over to the early Autumn had delivered an unusual jolt to my system, leaving me the feeling of having a slight cold. To add insult to injury, Nora gently informed me I should stay away from Aerith G for a couple days. No sense in taking a chance; she may have inherited my weaker genes. We could only hope she gained Vincent’s iron constitution instead.

The long and short of it was I felt bluesy and left out of all the fun for the next day, too. We couldn’t risk infecting the other children in the creche. But the baby was in good hands, as always, and I could watch her to my heart’s content, even a little glad to have help while I didn’t feel great.

Confusion in the Glen

The PHS chimed in the wee hours of the third morning. The guys finally reconnected and would be back in the early afternoon. There had been an awful battle with some severe injuries that prevented their moving along faster, but everyone was recovered and looking forward to daylight and fresh air.


At the sight of the returning party, my relief was almost overwhelming, so I ran up to Vincent and hugged him without speaking. He returned the embrace with a squeeze so constricting I was literally gasping for breath. Then I tried to kiss him, but he unexpectedly pushed me away, coldly looking into my eyes, his demeanor changing to that of the stern instructor from the edge of the northern woodland. He seemed inexplicably distant, even distracted, making me glad I could offer him a full meal and a comfortable night’s rest.

“When did I become so domesticated?” I purred, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a giggle. “While you were gone, I played the good little housewife. Even cooked you a full supper!” He gave me a quick smile of recognition, then turned away to talk to Walter and Hildy and Matthew.

Everyone was having a good time except Vincent. With me he was always low keyed, at least in comparison with nearly anyone else on the Planet, but at that moment he seemed moody, completely devoid of any sense of celebration. I turned to Matthew and Walter to ask what was wrong, but they were already occupied with their own families.

Forbidden Glen was noisy and busy, echoing with the sounds of happily-reunited couples and kids. Nora finally arrived with Aerith, and I indicated she should give the baby to her daddy. The little one immediately responded to his touch, and in no time, they were exchanging smiles and cooing at each other, as before.

“Aerith, you happy to have Papa back?” Vincent smiled at the little one’s bewildered expression, and pulled her close to his face. He nuzzled her, nose to nose, even whispering little nothings about how she was the prettiest girl on the Planet.

Although such a tender sight wasn’t lost on me, I knew it was time to return to finish preparations for our meal. Not wanting to intrude, I spoke softly.

“There. You can relax now and we can be a family again. Take a little time with Aerith, and I’ll finish setting out dinner.” Then I turned towards the Keep.

“Hush, Josephine. Whatever.” His impatient tone stopped me. I tried again.

“You can wash and rest, first, if you prefer. Dinner will wait; I’ll just set it aside.”

“Josephine, this reunion isn’t all about you.” I froze as the slight hit me in the gut. His voice had dropped into the low growl he used when he was angry at me for being dense. Walter was standing next to me at that point and looked inquiringly at him and back to me, just as Vincent lowered his voice deeper still.

“You are not the be-all and end-all, woman, regardless of how you may view yourself.”

Thunderstruck, I backed away and looked around; everything seemed to momentarily stop, including my heart. Then my pulse began to pound in my ears, my cheeks burning and stinging. Even my hair was beginning to raise a little, the transition had been so abrupt, somewhat spooky.

Walter had also heard the insult and looked back to him, alert and openly astounded. I could feel the shock of the cruel assertion still running through my face and chest. When I turned back to Vincent, he had just handed Aerith over to Nora, and was completely ignoring me. I had been dismissed.

Taking Vincent by the shoulders, I put my face right up to his and hissed through my teeth, “Thanks a lot, bastard! You picked a hell of a time to tell me.” He simply stared back, showing no emotion at all. I reached for Aerith, but he intercepted me, speaking almost casually.

“Let her remain here with us, Josephine. It’s been days, and I want to hold her a while.” Who was I to argue with that? Walter touched my arm but I shook him off, on the verge of retching. He tried to speak, but I stopped him.

“What in the world is wrong with me? How the Hell did I not realize that was coming? It’s like something out of the blue. I must be totally blind or something.” It seemed impossible the way everything turned bad so fast.

Walter tried again to detain me.

“Fini, wait…” but I couldn’t. No way would I stay if Vincent had so totally rejected me.

I returned to the Keep, shut off the cooking and grabbed a jacket, my weapons and some gil.

My brain was racing. I thought, Oh, well. Guess he just wanted a kid. Same as Hojo. Seems like guys do, after a certain age. It wouldn’t be the first time I learned I no longer mattered, and probably not the last. Get used to it, Girl; you’re not a spring chick anymore. Used, damaged goods.

The voice in my head babbled on and on, trying to talk sense into the whole mess, and to calm myself, as if that were possible. The worst of it was the recurring feeling that I surely missed the signals. Perhaps the whole base knew, and was laughing at me for being so stupid. It would be necessary to make a quick, dignified exit, to preserve what little self esteem remained.

A chocobo would be just the thing. A gold chocobo, that is.

Going Glitterback

When I got to the corral, I whistled up Glitter. He arrived with a rather discomfited Sebastian Cyan on his back, who was trying unsuccessfully to reign him in. When he saw me, he laughed and began to joke, exaggerating the struggle for comic effect.

“Ever try to stop a gold chocobo when he’s answering a whistle? There’s no such thing, apparently!” He looked unsettled and a little sheepish, and again it made me smile, despite my trouble.

He added, “When you summoned, Glitter simply ceased obeying my direction.”

“Sorry about that. He knows the whistle means Road Trip.” At that, the young man gave me a sidelong look and immediately dismounted.

“Where are you heading, Commander?” He seemed suddenly shy and uncertain. Gosh, could he see my distress? I slowed my breathing and composed myself, lowering my voice as I answered.

“What do you need, Mister Cyan? I’m thinking about Midgar, for one stop, anyway.” He seemed antsy yet elated.

“If you are passing through Junon area, I have a package of some value for my family. Otherwise, it will be weeks before I can deliver it myself.”

“No problem. It will give me some immediate direction. I have no real itinerary just yet.” The soldier walked over to the stables and rummaged around in a locker. Then he called out towards the rifle range.

Kulloden appeared from around the other side of the stalls. She walked right up to Sebastian and placed her hand on his hip. He quickly took it to his breast and motioned towards me.

“The Commander is going to the Eastern Continent. Where are the Chitins?” Without saying a word she ducked into the stable and came back with a very small box. She beamed and shook it. It made a healthy rattling sound.

“Irradiant chitins from the cave crustaceans. His dad makes armor ornaments with them.” Then she fell silent once again, looking shyly at her man. He indulgently returned the same intimate gaze. My face burned, and my eyes wanted to tear, but I held it back and smiled as well as I could, under the circumstances. Fortunately, Sebastian broke the spell.

“It’s all right, Kull. Commander, we are expecting our own little one in a few, likely around or some time after the Solstice. Dad and Mom also work together to make jewelry. We’ve enclosed a note about the pregnancy, fishing for a blessing to our union. A double surprise, we hope.

“Here: I even made a map, in hopes of hiring a courier to transport the chitins. Never got around to sending them after Meteorfall. The map can go inside the box with our note, so you won‘t lose it. They live in the woods just before the hills outside the fishing village.

“Fini, we really appreciate this. What’s more, my folks will feed both you and the bird. I got my chocobo fever from working in Mom's stables. You can stay there the night, too. She’s full of stories that may interest you.” He winked, patting the Gold on its neck.

The whole exchange left me feeling really good about my decision to leave. It was icing on the cake to have a mission for the first leg. First I gave my own blessing to the kids and wished them the best, then I turned towards the base, in case anyone was watching. No one else saw me leave.

I climbed on Glitter, and we jumped the fence of the corral.

Road Trip

Golds cover nearly every terrain as easily as they skitter over water. Glitter climbed the northeastern mountains as if they were no more trouble than a flight of household stairs.

In less than an hour, we were on our way through Corelle, where I had first decided we would raise chocobos for our quest. Memories of a certain sunny-yellow bird filled my thoughts, and my eyes searched the horizon for a glimpse of my Little Darling. Would she remember me and my promise to return for her?

At that point I was beginning to cool down, eagerly planning my road trip. First I would take a lovely day at Gold Coast. No need to stop in the resort area; I could handle anything we might encounter on the wilder beaches.

Besides, I had forgotten to grab the PHS, so I couldn’t call for the Chalet. There wouldn’t be any problem with just stopping in, but I really didn’t need a place to stay. What's more, someone using it might already be sacking out, and I sure as heck wouldn’t want to surprise anyone’s love nest.

We stopped on a beach just south of the resort, across the water from the little cottage where the arms maker taught lessons in zen and warfare. His place was barely visible, even in the bright sunshine. Glitter napped under the palms while I swam and surfed. The warm clear waters of the Gold Coast are unrivalled anywhere on the Planet. On either side of the resort, the beaches are pristine and largely unpopulated, leaving us bothered neither by man nor monster.

Warm-water skinny-dipping is the best experience this side of Paradise. Growing up on the edges of Midgar did not allow me many opportunities to indulge this little idiosyncrasy, but as an adult I swim in my birthday suit whenever I can arrange it. Haven’t owned any swim gear in just about forever.

Glitter could grab a bite of any arthropod on land or sea, and was eagerly grubbing for marine crabs just about the time I began to think about food. I was not quite ready to move on. At that point, I needed to rinse off the sea salt, so we cruised over to the resort and I peeked into the chalet. It was empty. I quickly showered and grabbed a change of clothes. Nothing fit. Still a tad flabby in the tummy and butt after birthing little Aerith.

The baby thoughts sent me scrambling through the various markets of Gold Coast, in search of a mobile phone. Hideously expensive, they were the most luxurious I’d ever seen, with so many doodads as to make them silly for a road warrior. I chose the barest model with the largest screen I could manage to carry on my person, then called my family.

Eleanora Valentine, that is. She immediately hooked me into the nursery, where Aerith G cooed back in all her raven-haired glory. We chattered nonsense and silly vowel sounds at each other, until she became restive and I prepared to sign off. Nora tried to interrupt with news of Vincent, but I cut it short, told her I missed them all, then disconnected.

At that point, I really began to miss my little Aerith G. The tears threatened. My whole body longed to hold her, cuddle her, and kiss her. She would surely have visibly grown by the next time we could be together.

Then the maudlin thoughts evaporated. There was no way would I ruin the phone memory with nostalgia; I had already resolved to pull myself up by the bootstraps. She was still my baby, and I would return when I felt I could face the militia and the others again. Besides, I could simply visit with her onscreen until I returned to readjust our newly-changed family configuration. By then we might be able to include some of her older half-siblings! The thought of finding and locking in my first-born girls filled me with new purpose, and I dug again through the closets of the villa.

Finally, I reluctantly stuffed myself into some jeans and a top, and prayed I didn’t look too much like an overcooked sausage. I hoped no one I knew would catch me in such an unfit condition. Oh well, there was always Junon for shopping and the rigors of the road for regimen.

“Well, Glitter, what do you say about a trip over the ocean?” The hyper bird warked excitedly, reacting to my first spoken words to him since we left Nibelheim. He pushed against me, full of energy, begging me to climb aboard. I complacently complied and he spun on his dew-claw, then waited, quivering, facing the open sea.

“Go, Glitter!” And we were off, up to full speed in no time.

Racing a chocobo is the most excitement anyone can expect from the natural world. It is as much sport for the bird as it is for the rider, and Glitter is capable of intense sprinting for long periods of time. He seems to be testing himself to the limit even when not pushed by a human. When we put him in with the rest at Dio’s Chocobo Square, he had such an unfair advantage that it ruined the gaming. By his second run, every bettor was wagering on him, making the whole thing impossible. The word soon spread that the fix was on if the Golds were included, and we were barred, except against other Golds. That meant we could only race against our own stock.

Three birds don’t make for much of a race, but there was always hope other people would raise some worthy competitors. Sparkle, Gilda and Glitter were the toast of the racing world, but we couldn’t make any money on them, except through breeding. And that was the full-time occupation of Billy and his sister Chole out at ChocoBills.

We were not expecting to remain on top forever, though. After all, it was through a certain Nick Adams, whose Manifesto is available even today on the Network, that we began to learn the easiest ways to root out the best breeding birds from the four corners of the Planet. It wasn’t really a secret, just a very expensive proposition. Breeding the best costs the most. One could beg, steal, borrow or otherwise cheat to get the most prized feeding greens, but most people simply didn’t have the time or wherewithal. We had plenty of money from all our looting, and the need for recreation to motivate us through the arduous process of racing and leveling up our birds.

Glitter was our first Gold, a real prize, and the one who took us all over the Planet to places never before seen by contemporary man.

A simple trip across the sea was nothing but sheer pleasure to him, and I let him enjoy it.

Wetting My Whistle

The passage from Gold Coast went without incident. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed the movement of the ocean waves.

To anyone who knows me, that last statement probably makes no sense at all. I get motion sickness in cars, planes, and especially carnival rides. Yet, after all the travel in the months leading up to the Battle against Sephiroth, I found the rocking of a ship calms me. Sure, my stomach usually lurches, but to me, that is simply an adjustment delay. Shoot, I can take a Remedy to settle my stomach and nerves.

Even with the nausea I enjoy the rocking of a boat on the ocean. It's soothing. In fact, I miss it when I finally set foot on land. Add to that the pleasure I derive from riding a chocobo, and the trip was a breeze for me. I slowed Glitter's pace to an easy trot over the waves, and let him do the rest. As we approached the port of Junon, my little buddy began his anticipatory warking, and woke me in time to prepare for my visit to the area. I remember thinking that it was a shame to sleep through the peaceful pleasures of the open seas. We both landed rested and ready to begin our hunt for Cyan's parents.

Only trouble was an annoying tickling in my throat from the feathers.

The Drunks in The Dive

Sebastian had made me promise to visit the Cyan family and bring them a present from the caves of Mt. Nibel. The chitin of a certain nasty cave insect had real value in the manufacture of weapons, and sometimes jewelry. Anyway, he gave me a small box to deliver to his mom. It rattled slightly when shook, and sounded like it was full of shells. He assured me it was unbreakable. Then he gave me instructions for his parents' place. Those I simply couldn't find after we alit at Junon.

I took apart my whole kit—spent at least an hour—and couldn't locate it. It shamed me to be so careless, so it wouldn't do to call him. I hoped I could wing it. Fortunately, the area is tiny, and the people all know one another. A slow walk through the fishing village brought the desired information.

There was a small place called The Dive, the local watering hole, just outside the village perimeter, but well before the outlying woodlands. We were assured that the owners knew everyone within a ten kilometer radius.

Ahh, and then some. We had stopped there a few times during our crossings. It was simply a pub to me, but now I looked it over carefully. Outsiders who ask questions are not often treated kindly by locals. We'd gotten lucky a few times, but now I was alone, and a woman entering a man‘s domain. I hoped I knew when to keep my mouth shut and my ears open.

It was a dump, just as I remembered. Dark and smoky, its atmosphere was permeated with the reek of beer and the sounds of conversations kept sotto voce. Good thing I was dressed for the road: fancy was not appropriate there. I slipped onto a stool and dropped a few gil on the bar, holding in a sudden fit of coughing. The Captain showed me a beer glass and cocked an eye. I nodded and thanked him.

When the drink arrived, I wetted my throat, and again coughed a little, trying to loosen what felt like a plug of feathers.

"You need something stronger, Ma'am?" I snorted once and tried to seem self-deprecating, without becoming whiny.

"Fell asleep on the chocobo and filled my lungs with feathers. Feels like I inhaled a pillow." The fellow nodded and held up his index finger for me to wait. Then he grabbed a bottle of Firewater and poured me a jigger-full.

Yuck. "I dunno, Captain. Sweet stuff isn't usually my thing." I didn't want to disappoint the nice guy, but the thought of drinking the syrup made me want to gag.

"I know. I remember. Scotch: neat for slamming, on the rocks for sipping, with soda for swilling, right?"

"Damn! You do remember. So what makes you think I would want that stuff?" Where was this going? He ceremoniously set the drink down in front of me.

"Just chug it. Trust me on this. Bottoms up!" I chugged it without another word. It burned right through the feathers and all the way down. I grabbed the beer and chugged that, too. Now he was smiling approvingly.

"That's right. Perfect. How do you feel?"

"It cut the fuzziness! I feel great. Thanks!" For the first time since I woke, I didn't need to clear my throat.

"Don't thank me until tomorrow. If you wake with a real cold or cough, you can drink all night on the house. Guaranteed. We swear by it." He poured me a fresh beer, and I leaned forward to ask about the Cyans. Barely whispered the name when a gruff voice came from the darkness.

"Sebastian? You his girl?" There was a lone patron at the other end of the bar. He wasn't young, but he wasn't quite my age: somewhere in between. He was planted in his seat and hunched over his drink, an obvious regular.

"Not hardly. He's attached to a lovely, silvery-blonde battle goddess right now. They work together on a chocobo ranch outside Nibelheim. Got a Green and some Blues and hope to go for the Gold. There's a package here for his folks." I pointed to Glitter, outside the window.

"Could use some directions to their home."

"Hmm. Who wants to know?" Always the challenge in pubs. Oh well, may as well give it a go.

"The name's Lindorm." I spoke quietly, but clearly.

"Lindorm! What are you doing on a Gold chocobo?" The fellow stood up and came over to the seat near me. The place fell silent. Oops. Wasn't looking for trouble. Well, if there were any leftover Shinra people, I would go down fighting.

"Josephine Lindorm. What would you have me ride?" My weapons were with Glitter, but still, I hoped the Glow wouldn't ignite. Not yet.

"No dragon?" He was being wary, not wanting to give many clues. I kept composed, speaking nonchalantly, but I could feel my face settling into a grin.

"Not yet. Working on it, though." Playing the game: Rock, Paper, Scissors with words. But the guy was already smiling, too, and stuck out his hand.

"Of course! Make your Grampa Yoshikuni Irving proud! Youshun Lovelock. Sebastian didn't mention me? Why would he leave you to work your way through these parts unaided?" Then I had to admit I'd already lost the instructions to the Cyans' place.

"I only remember that I need to aim for the woodlands. You know Sebastian. Not much of a talker. Did he leave an imprint in one of these stools?"

"Yep. These days we could use him around here. Since the Fall of Shinra, things are pretty boring. Too quiet. You really breeding dragons?" He winked an eye, as if he didn't really expect it to be true.

"Just now gathering stock. Our people lassoed a Great Northern Blue for stud. Already got a Green raising a dragonet. Just one, but we can always hope." It almost seemed too good to be true as I said it, and I hoped we wouldn't jinx the whole thing with idle talk.

"Sebastian is busy with the Chocobos at Nora's Pride. We are mixing them up to train the two species, so they can battle together. What do you know about this sort of thing?"

"Only what I pick up from the local Lore. Never seen a dragon myself, but they used to come out this way from the hills. Irving Lindorm took a few, many years ago. They were all killed in the early wars, when heavy Mako machinery was first introduced." That information was common knowledge, but I certainly hoped that my new acquaintance could provide a few leads.

Felt as if I struck the Lode Stone in the guy, and we sat back down for the long haul. We talked a while, then I ordered a quick lunch for us both, so we could continue without getting stupid from the drink. He spoke for hours about the local dragoon legends, and promised me a special token he had from my Grampa. He asked me to accompany him to his place.

We wandered off the premises to a cottage not three minute’s walk from the tavern. The top of the inn could be seen from the front porch. Lovelock would not have to go far for refreshment. His place was tiny, just a kitchen, with bed and bath. And three other rooms simply loaded with collectibles!

One partitioned area was completely lined with bookcases, filled top to bottom with magazines and old, but immaculately kept, books. There was no place to walk, just boxes and crates full of periodicals, many going back to the days of stitch binding. An elite few were proudly displayed in hermetically sealed containers.

With a wink of self-deprecating secrecy, Lovelock unlocked the next room. It contained glassed-in cases displaying small statues and miniature machinery and vehicles. Each was lovingly painted and properly marked according to description, style and date. This area was also maintained to keep the holdings pristine, climate control and all.

Finally, with a great show of ceremony, my amateur docent unlatched and opened the way into the third. This room was secured with no less than three locks, each requiring a complicated input code. Then he gallantly stepped aside to allow me to enter first, his eyes glowing with pride.

There were enough arms and weaponry to supply a small town, many times larger than the armory in the Keep. Several were obviously valuable antiques, and were permanently lit by their glowing materia.

Mental note: Yuffie must never know about Lovelock‘s place.

“See anything you like?”

Was that an offer? Or a tease? After a quick scan of the almost bewildering array that lined the walls, I decided it must be the latter. There, tucked into a corner, almost piled together as an afterthought, was a small grouping of dragon mail, ornaments, and a rider’s shield. The recognition hit my face and torso like a bolt of electricity.

“My grandfather’s dragon!”

Youshun was nodding approvingly. He began to recite the history of the gear, sounding again like a museum curator unveiling a prized acquisition.

“Yoshikuni’s dragon used to be seen everywhere around here. He met and married a local girl, a pretty bard, popular in the nightspots. The Lindorms gained one of our prized flowers when we lost her to him.

"Local legend had it that they courted in the woods where he taught her the arts of erotic love and all-out war. They disappeared on a Great Blue Dragon, and she was never seen around these parts again.

"The Lindorm dragon seal was all over their home, which in turn was completely destroyed by Shinra during the reprisals. We were only able to rescue a few items from his outbuildings.”

I nodded, relieved that some tokens of our family past were still extant. It was good to offer information in return, a sort of postscript to Lovelock’s historic details.

“Your bard went with him to just southeast of the Midgar area, and raised four boys there in the foothills. My father was one of them.” I thought about my Grammy and wondered at the recurve and arrows on the left of the dragon, which was a Nibelheim Lesser Green. Somehow, it didn't look lesser to me, and frankly, even the pink underside glowed with menace. Would my Esmerelda ever seem so fierce? Then I remembered the initial battle with our Great Blue Buddy, and decided she could give a real enemy a run for its money.

I walked through the rooms again, praising his collection and absorbing as much lore has he had to offer. Then we returned to the tavern, to finish the day among his friends as they got happier and much, much rowdier.

It is my habit to deliberately overindulge in liquor and overeat to my heart’s desire whenever I am with real drinkers. They would be insulted if a visitor were to show undue restraint at party time.

We killed many a bottle of spirits and probably at least a keg of the brewed stuff over the ensuing hours. After we’d run down and were tired from talking and imbibing, Youshun graciously filled in the gaps of my directions to the Cyans and insisted I stopped by any time I passed through. He promised a gift from the collection. Embarrassed by the unexpected largesse, I demurred.

"Um, I don't know. Don't really care to make drinking a habit. I get the feeling my associates think I'm an alcoholic already, as it is." I was just teasing, but the man took it seriously, barking back at me.

"Bah. We're not alcoholics. We're drunks!" Okay. With that, I knew I stepped in it, but I played along anyway. Just to be polite.

"Drunks? So we're not alcoholics?" Hoped I looked innocent enough…

"Nope. Just drunks, thank the gods. Alcoholics gotta go to those stupid sobriety meetings!" And everyone in the place laughed uproariously at was what obviously one of their favorite jokes. It was the least I could do for them before I teetered uncertainly back to my chocobo, my head reeling from the best drinking the Junon area had to offer.

Glitter took me out into the woods, up onto a small hill, from which I could still see the Inn, back in the distance.

It was already quite late, but I had clear directions to Cyan’s birthplace, and wanted to use them before the sun set behind the continental ridge. The road looked a little less intimidating with more information in my pack and a few names I could drop.

Including my own, it seemed. I punched Sebastian's code into my PHS and left a message that he should contact Youshun. Before I had finished, Sebastian cut in, telling me he didn't know him.

"But the guy spoke as if you were drinking buddies! And he certainly looked to be a kindred spirit. Didn't you drink in The Dive, just outside the fishing village below Junon?" Now the answer came more slowly, as if he were thinking it out again.

"Sure did. Was he a bearded fellow, really hard drinker, sitting right at the bar?" Sounded like my informant, all right.

"I just talked to a regular named Youshun Lovelock. Seemed to be a collector of local lore and historical relics and artifacts."

"Yup. That would be him. The one they call Hawk. He didn't use the name: the others must've given it to him. He answered to it, even though he insisted it wasn't right. He said it should be Falcon. Used to get all snotty when the guys would get on him about it."

"Whatever. Just so long as you know him. You should call sometimes. The regulars miss you. Youshun says the place is too quiet now." Sebastian practically choked with an explosion of laughter on the other end.

"Figures. He's the one who used to tell me to shut up! Drinking's serious business to him. Said he was training me up properly to the bar. I'll have to call early some night, before the place gets lively. I miss the old fellow."

"You, know, I hate to admit it, but I didn't get his code. Never even thought about it. I'm so sorry, Sebastian. These days, my memory‘s just plain shot."

"No problem, I remember The Dive's number. Hawk doesn't carry a PHS. He hates them. It's part of why he retired so young."

"How‘s that again? He couldn't possibly be even my age!" I tried to imagine that fellow being older than me, and it simply couldn‘t be.

"No, Ma'am. He retired on his collections: weaponry, ancient art and written lore, magic scrolls and such. He was disgusted with how Shinra was ruining all the local industry, especially the fisheries. He worked with them a short while, then quit on principle. Said he wanted to dedicate himself to his hobbies: alcoholism and bitterness." Sebastian snorted.

"I can see the alcoholism, all right, but what about the bitterness? He seemed okay to me."

"Hawk must be still cultivating that one. He might've been set back by the fall of Shinra in Midgar. Proper bitterness needs a constant influx of rationale. No matter, he'll perk up again soon, what with the economy and civil unrest in the cities and crime on the highways. Junon couldn't have escaped."

How appropriate to the drunks I met in the dive., I thought.

Sounded logical to me, in its own twisted sort of way.

Gangsters and Intimidation

It felt lifeless and eerie, the scene that met us in the hollow on the edge of the foothills. The water of the tarn was perfectly still, and there were no sounds coming from the surrounding forest. I moved in toward the shore and stopped.

On the other side, nestled into a copse of still-green leaf-bearers, was a tiny A-frame house. When I got closer I could see that it was the center of a compound of equally small stables and outbuildings and corrals, all scattered through the woods and around the pond.

“Stables?” I said the word aloud, surprising myself in the otherwise silent valley. Where were the birds? Didn’t Sebastian say they were breeders from way back? Not a chocobo in sight. Could this possibly be the Cyan ranch?

I urged Glitter over into the light of the fading sunset.

“Go on, buddy. There has to be someone here.” But the place seemed deserted. Except it wasn’t. I could hear a little movement that I finally located inside the stable. Glitter moved instinctually toward the sound, his eyes eager, and body tensed and ready for action.

“Hello? Anybody here? Mister or Missus Cyan?” At that, there was another slight rustle from the house. I dismounted and walked right up to the door.

“Hello! I’m a friend of Sebastian, from Nibelheim. He probably told you Commander Lindorm was coming.” The door cracked. And the bore of a small rifle was thrust out toward me. A gruff voice came through the opening.

“Don’t know any Lindorms around here anymore. They are all dead.”

“Well, no. I’m Josephine Lindorm, granddaughter of Yoshikuni Lindorm. Sebastian gave me a package to deliver to you both. Says it’s full of chitins for working into armor.” The rifle withdrew and the door opened a little more.

“Show it.” I returned to Glitter and pulled out the ornate package. Then I shook it a tad and opened it to show them. The darned things were covered by a handwritten paper. I groaned.

“Dammit! There are the directions he gave me…” Even the danger of the current situation couldn’t dispel the shame and disgust I felt at having forgotten about the written sheet. It was in the package all along. Just as Sebastian had said when he put it there. Well, I thought, that’s what happens when a person goes off half-cocked. I stared at the note. The Cyans were already exiting the cabin.

“Lady, looks like you really do know our son. Sorry for the poor first impression here.” The speaker was a woman just about my age. She settled the rifle on her shoulder and nudged her husband, who accepted the package with a bow. The two people were the hale and hearty sort I expected to find living out in the middle of nowhere. Which begged a question, so I asked.

“What the hell happened here? Excuse my language, Ma’am, but the place is deserted. Where are your birds? I’d been expecting a fully operational ranch. Nora’s Pride will be looking to do some business with you people.”

Now we all looked at one another’s worried expressions. The man turned slowly and contemplated their cottage. It didn’t look any worse for the wear to me, but his face told a different story. Despair and fear made him look ancient and withered, even though they were likely to be my own age. I shook my head sadly, and simply waited for his answer. It was long in coming; he was composing himself with great difficulty. Just when I was ready to repeat my questions, he sighed deeply and gave in.

“Rustlers came through earlier this afternoon. Roughed us up pretty good, and waltzed away our prize Greens. Said they’d be back for the last, the birds that are still in the barn.” The man spoke as if he were in pain. There were no other signs of injury or even a struggle.

“Tell me about it; give me some info.” I could feel my blood boiling. Gangsters already. With the fall of Shinra, it would be a good long while before any new motorized vehicles were produced. Chocobos were now worth more than money. Maybe even more than human life, to some criminals.

“Are they local?” The man brightened, I thought perhaps at the prospect of retrieving his birds.

“Maybe so. They said they’d be back, thinking we should be a little more cooperative then.” Of course. These people had no place to go, no one nearby to help. My mind wound around to guilty thoughts. All the hullabaloo must have happened while I was partying with the drunks at the Dive. Damn. Whenever I go off by myself…

“Well, what’s left?” An idea was forming for a little dustup with the bastards. No doubt I could use some practice to keep me in fighting form.

“Some really wonderful Yellows--and Jet. Our first and only Black. She’s a racer sometimes at the Gold Saucer. The Yellows, too. All high level racers. Thank heavens we keep them in the back, away from the hybrids. They are a noisy, scrappy lot.”

“Excellent! Jet and Glitter will make perfect bait. Leave the rest to me. We’re going to have us some fun. Promise!”

“You, Miss?” The fellow looked doubtful. I smiled, and walked over to Glitter to pull out my weapons. My earlier search for the Cyan’s directions had allowed me an opportunity to organize my holdings, which included plenty of ammunition. When I go off half-cocked, I still take enough precautions to protect myself.

A lone woman might look a tad vulnerable, especially during lawless times. And I expected that might work to our advantage.

“All of us can participate. Beat you down good, did they?” The man looked at the ground and spat.

“They’ve got high-powered automatic guns and some sort of electrical weapon. We didn’t stand a chance.”

“No doubt. That’s the way gangsters work. Fair play is not their long suit. Well, they’re done. By the way, do they have family or other friends around here? What I mean is: Will anyone miss them when I’ve finished?” Now the lady smiled.

“No, Miss. Never saw any of them before. There were three. They shot us with the stunner and herded up my babies. Led them all away, with us just watching, in agony.” I could see she was game for the next encounter.

So was I. We set out Jet and Glitter, placing them close to the pond. That way their iridescent feathers would shine in the moonlight against the water, and we could easily secure the others by confining them to the stables.

The Cyans would remain indoors. This time they would have my back, as well as a front row seat for the fun I was planning.

The valley took the full warmth of the afternoon sun and would likely remain quite comfortable overnight, even in the early autumn. The little cottage was still well-hidden by surrounding vegetation. I climbed up the roof and set my weapons in a nearby conifer, within easy reach. Vincent’s small sidearm I tucked into my waistband.

The cabin was styled after Alpine chalets, with a very steeply pitched roof over two, maybe even three floors of bedrooms and attic space. There was no place to stand, so I set my feet onto a heavy tree branch and kept my back against the roof itself. I was nearly upright, and leaning just enough to take the weight off my legs. It was a pose I could hold for hours, lying in wait for my victims.

The gangsters did not disappoint, showing themselves when the light of the setting sun was gone and the moon was high enough to make the tarn shimmer in the dark. Long before I could see anything, I could hear them. The fools didn’t even try to move quietly through the hollow! It was easy to detect three separate voices, all hooting and howling with laughter, obviously looking forward to their next encounter with the Cyans.

“Did ya see them shaking in the laser beam? Haw! I hope they try something stupid again, so we can see another light show tonight! Should be pretty, reflecting off the water and all.”

Frankly I was hoping the same for them. Only not just yet, I thought. Please, please don’t trigger the Glow just yet. I breathed in and out slowly, pacing my breaths to calm my nerves. It was important to catch them close enough for a good shot that would not endanger the Cyans’ chocobos.

Naturally, they were riding the best. The Greens were high-spirited and pulling against them, trying to move over to their home corral. The gangsters were poor equestrians, yanking roughly at the reins and cursing their mounts when they were uncooperative. I hoped the Cyans were practicing their deep breathing, too. But the men were impatient. The leader spoke. Or rather, shouted.

“Hey! Where the hell are you? Get your asses out here now! We know you have more than these! Don’t think we’ll be satisfied with just the Gold and Black here, either! We said all of them and we mean it. Or we’ll burn down the whole place to find them!”

His companions moved over to Glitter and Jet. One of them took out the laser-prod. I’d seen the like before, during battles with the Turks, Shinra’s elite covert operations squad. These idiots didn’t have half the class of Rude or Reno, who always issued a calm challenge, then worked in deadly silence. With these idiots, I was betting on a woeful lack of martial arts or simple melee skills, to boot.

“C’mon! Get over here! We’re going to pad our pockets at the Gold Saucer tonight!” The one jerk was already poking the unlit prod at Glitter, who watched me with a steady eye. My bird wasn’t interested in anything the thugs had to suggest. The brute began cursing the air blue, and swung his weapon over his head, as he activated the laser, lighting the corral in blinding whiteness. Every one of them was now clearly visible in black and white.

And that was enough for me. I drew and shot, aiming for the heart of the one who wielded the prod. Unfortunately I missed the mark slightly and he took it through the throat. The laser went down and out, flung reflexively out beyond the fence.

The hiss-thump of the arrow was immediately followed by the gurgling choking of the poor man. In the moonlight I could see the mist he was throwing as he coughed, creating a veritable rain cloud of his own blood.

No one deserves to die a lingering strangulation death. Not in my book. I quickly notched another arrow and properly eliminated the wretching unfortunate with my next shot. This had the effect of pointing up exactly where the arrows were coming from, and the other two were instantly looking for me.

That was a good thing. With the men facing me, I could much more easily aim for head or heart. Henchman Number Two was my next mark, while I ignored the leader for the easier, closer target.

Thwick-thupp! In less than a second, he dropped without another sound, still trying to find me in the trees. Of course, by now the Glow was lighting up the roof area better than any spotlight could. Still, we were two down, with only one to go. The leader, however, was more single-minded and better prepared. No sooner had I heard the sound of my arrow, when the air was filled with the report of a firearm, as the salvos echoed back and forth from the surrounding hills. I was lifted off my feet and away from the roof, glancing the building as I flew.

I was trying to remember to curl myself into a ball and roll before I hit the ground. But my new body was still full of surprises. The Glow did not let me either hit or roll. Rather, I bounced around inside the field, just as I had during the battles on the way to the Northern Crater. It was a spongy, squishing sort of impact. Because I was counting on hitting properly, my body was ready for rolling, but not bouncing, and especially not the head over heels sort of bounding that replaced my expected landing.

A belly full of beer and snack food is not meant to spin and bounce like a soccer ball, especially in the midst of a tense battle. Partially digested bar food littered the trail in several glops along the way, ending when I came to rest against a nearby tree. I rolled over onto my hands and knees and finished the job, forcefully heaving until my stomach felt empty. My thoughts immediately turned to my sidearm, which I hoped wasn’t nasty with vomit. Must have been quite a sight, sweating, panting, and looking all around for my assailant in the moonlight.

The gangster boss wasn’t even interested in me. He was firing wildly into the air above my head, while the Cyans were running up from behind, covering him with their own weapons. I figured he was now in good hands, so I looked straight up into the treetops.

A very solid, dark-red cloud was swirling and spinning among the branches, careening from limb to limb, creating a wooshing, flapping sound, like streamers or banners in the wind. It was all very familiar to me, and I settled back against the tree to watch it play out.

Not much of a show. Three shots cracked out in rapid succession from over my head, and the thug was thereby dispatched to his destiny.

The heavenly red, swirling pinwheel spun one more time and lit directly in front of me, the aerialist coming to a graceful, kneeling position, facing the Cyans. For their part, they did not lower their weapons, nor did they take their eyes off our new arrival. They were obviously spooked and distrustful of the latest apparition.

With an almost superhuman effort, I choked back the rising mess in my throat and spoke quickly, but calmly, hoping to diffuse a possible assault on my colleague.

“Vincent, I’d like you to meet Sebastian’s parents. Mister and Missus Cyan, this is Commander Vincent Valentine, also from Nibelheim.”

Then jerking down my head in one convulsive motion, I wretched and noisily vomited again, right at everyone’s feet.

From the Heat of Battle

Once I had evacuated my queasy stomach, the valley seemed, even felt, quieter, almost darker, in the post-battle stillness. Panting and blowing, I slowly lifted my face and was mortified to find my three allies staring at me in surprise and concern, their faces presented in stark contrasts by the light of the Glow.

“You okay?” Cyan’s father and mother both looked worried, but Vincent impishly added his own two cents.

One cent. “Heights?” He almost smiled. I nearly followed suit, but my embarrassment still stung.

“No. Just a little too much cheer before the raging storm. The local tavern was my last stop before visiting these people.”

“I know. The Dive patrons directed me here.” That caught my attention, and I cursed involuntarily.

“Goddammit! They have some nerve! What if you were an unfriendly?” It surprised me that my indignation was mixed with a marked anxiety. No one should know my whereabouts at any time. For the first time since I started on the road, I felt somewhat vulnerable: a single woman in a rough man’s world. And now very much alone.


Vincent and Josephine and Baby Aerith; it was supposed to be forever. Never wanted a new family, but managed to accrue one, anyway. It was so easy to slip into the little habits that make a family routine. No question about it, I was raised to be a wife and homemaker, and I used to be quite good at it. Until very recently, that is. Somehow I missed the cues that I used to so easily spot. It didn't matter; it was time to move on, and I did. A house doesn't need to fall on me, as they say, for me to know when I am not wanted.

Well, sir, a house did fall on me. That's exactly how it felt to be told I ceased to matter. Okay, so Vincent didn't exactly tell me my services were no longer required. I was simply not the be-all and end-all.

The way it works in my world, however, I have to be the be-all and end-all. Or it isn't worth my time and trouble. If the center of my universe falls in, I simply grab onto the periphery and clamber out. There will always be other things that need my attention.

So, in retrospect, it would have been better if the drunks in the Dive had given me away to an unfriendly. An enemy I could handle with dispatch and aplomb. As it stood, our victory over the gangsters would be clouded by the awkwardness that was sure to follow between Vincent and me.

“Josephine, all those people have encountered us before, while we were tracking Sephiroth.” I nodded and spat at the ground, almost on reflex.

“You mean being lured by him. These days I harbor no illusions about our quest.” That was unnecessarily rude; the bitterness was beginning to overwhelm me, as the Glow finally faded. The heat of combat was seeping from my jazzed nerves, and the reaction to the height of the rooftop, the explosive sounds, and the mortal danger of the fight finally got to me, as the battle itself receded into the past. Sometimes I can be quite cranky after dodging bullets, lasers, attack magic, or whatever.

The Cyans looked at the two of us and then at one another, and back again. Mrs. Cyan spoke first, almost pleading with Vincent.

“Listen. Why don’t you both stay with us tonight? The place is secure now, and we can search for our other birds at sunup. Rest and a decent breakfast in the morning is the least we can offer you.” Her husband put his hand on my shoulder.

“Maybe you would like a shower? Or a hot bath? The missus can lend you some clothes, while we launder yours.” I hung my head, at first surreptitiously scanning my front to see if I was a disgusting mess, then openly pulling out the bottom of the shirt, looking for signs of vomit.

Except for an awful lot of sweat spots all over the front, my clothes were fairly decent, with only a few tiny streaks of stomach effluent.

Actually, everyone was remarkably clean after such a fight. The rustlers took the worst of it from the very beginning. My deer-hunting strategy, combined with Vincent’s surprise arrival, pretty much sewed up the fight in mere minutes. At that point, I really just craved a dip in the tarn.

Cleaning Up the Mess

My femininity might surely be called into question; I was never much of a girlie girl. On the other hand, the entire time we were battling Shinra and Sephiroth, I availed myself of every possible opportunity to bathe. In fact, one of the lasting results of my road warrior days was a new-found ability to wash anywhere, in any and all temperatures. The moon-lit pond was inviting, and I looked forward to a bath. It would be necessary to ditch all those people. But once again, Vincent had plans.

“We are grateful for the offer, but my wife and I will sleep out under the stars.”

Wife? Stunned, I jerked my head in his direction, but there wasn’t enough light to see his expression.

Wouldn’t have helped much anyway. Vincent usually plays his cards close to the vest. As it was, he took my upper arm and pointed me towards the glittering water beyond the corral, speaking over his shoulder to the other couple.

“Once we dispatch the bodies, we can spend some time catching up. It’s been a while for the both of us.” Smiling, the Cyans waved us away, and collected their own chocobos and Glitter, shooing them toward the stables and cottage.

First we carefully picked over the corpses, hoping there would be loot for the taking. Criminals love to bedeck themselves with their ill-gotten gains. They know only too well that someone stronger would like to steal it all away. This time the prize would be the laser weapon that had illuminated the corral. Been wanting one of them since I saw it used by Reno of the Turks. It was capable of creating a field not unlike the Glow, only as an offensive weapon, it would completely disable the victim.

We found no cash. Except for weapons and ammunition, there was little else, but we gratefully collected everything we could. The Cyans would no doubt enjoy their share of the spoils. It was entirely possible that some of the swag was stolen from them, anyway. One thing, however caught my attention.

"Vincent, here's a PHS, just like ours." He knew what I meant. Who would these gangsters need to call? If there was only one phone, then they were surely not calling or coordinating with one another.

We took apart the device, reducing it to very tiny pieces. Those we shot up with as much lightning magic as we could both muster. Finally we tossed the debris into the pond.

Then it was time to get rid of the still-warm bodies themselves.

While we were returning the remains of the gangsters to the Planet, I tried to begin a discussion with Vincent. He shushed me.

“Josephine, we should have some respect for the dead.”

“Pffttt! Since when? They were criminals.” Nevertheless the enormity of the occasion often left me awed, and this time was no exception. Every living creature belongs to the Planet and should be properly returned to it.

We concentrated on the remains, reverting them to stardust, then stood watching the swirls and sparkling of the remaining energies.

I don’t believe I am alone in the satisfaction I usually derive from reverently dispatching the dead. It’s a curious feeling that somehow relieves the sadness of the loss, or any regret one might feel over a death.

Messy kills depress me, so I prefer to use magic that completely disintegrates the enemy. It’s disgusting to find a decaying corpse, and we saw many during our travels. We weren’t shy about killing anyone who hindered our quest, even those who weren’t criminals, such as our recent quarry.

And the rustlers were asking for it, just as surely as if they’d written and signed their own death warrants. I had been only too pleased to comply.

While I was thinking such morbid, bloodthirsty thoughts, I caught Vincent watching me intently.

“Well?” I growled. It was a challenge, I admit, but he had to provide some sort of explanation for his presence. He looked good, even through the despair that still clung to me, still causing a dull ache when I so much as saw him.

“Josephine, you turned down an opportunity for a hot bath. That’s not like you.” At that, I sniffed and fell to my knees at the tarn’s edge to wash my face and neck. The cold water was pristine--entirely without scent--and it seemed a shame to pollute it with my grimy sweat and bile. I shot back a disingenuous, but what I hoped was still a casual-sounding, answer.

“Yeah, well, there’s actually more privacy out here. At least, there will be when you leave.” An invitation or an order? Your call; I really didn’t want him to leave.

“You’d rather I go?” At that moment I could see his face in the light off the water. As expected, he stared back at me, expressionless. I recognized it as his own, low-key challenge, and I softened my tone to about two clicks below angry shrillness.

“Vincent, I think you know how I feel. It’s all or nothing. If I’m not the center of your universe, then move on. It hurts to look at you, and to remember the scene in the Glen.” He silently dropped to the ground next to me, again becoming almost invisible in the darkness.

“Actually, if you are going to bathe nude, I would prefer to stay. Watching you skinny-dip, especially in cold water, was an unexpected pleasure that I’m eager to repeat.” His face may have been hidden from me, but the gloating in his voice was unmistakable.

“Repeat!! You watched me bathe in the underground lake of the North Crater?” I stood straight up, incredulous. “There was no one in sight the entire time!”

“Josephine, you are relatively heedless of your surroundings when you swim. In fact, except for the schizoid behavior that followed, the sight was certainly my fondest memory from the road.” At that point he was speaking in a low, silky tone. I was mesmerized and nearly reached out to him, until I remembered.

“Then how can you simply end it? And so off-handedly?” Even through the cold water, I could feel my eyes sting with hot tears. Good thing it was too dark for him to see. The moonlight playing on the water was not strong enough to illuminate our faces, as we stood so close to the pond‘s edge.

“Your pain hurts me more than you can imagine, Josephine.” I snorted with the irony of it. He took my wet, icy hands, into his own, warm and comfortingly strong, preventing me from withdrawing, or even turning away.

“Hear me out. When we first met, a wise lady taught me that we cannot feel guilty over the consequences of negative status effects. I learned to trust and believe her. Time after time in our battles we forgave one another the injuries caused by Confuse and Muddle.” He then hesitated, but I snapped right back.

“So? Vincent, where is this going? We were at home in the Forbidden Glen. Your words were a slap in the face, when we should have been celebrating with the others.”

“And you were humiliated. I know. They told me all about it.”

“Told you? Couldn’t you see for yourself? What did you think you were saying to me? Honestly, I wanted to pop you one right there. You know, if Walter hadn’t tried to stop me, I would have belted you good, and screamed, and, and oh, I don’t know what else. So I left.” My heart was pounding again and the humiliation washed over me even as we spoke. Why torment me one more time?

“Josephine, none of this is news to me.” I moved around until I could actually see his features in the moonlight. Neither smiling nor angry, they carried a clear message just the same, at least to me.

I should just shut up. I settled back down on the bank next to him, and waited for the lecture.

This time there was no censure in Vincent’s tone. He spoke in a patient monotone, simply relating the occurrences of the past two days. He expected me to listen without interruption, so I obeyed.

After all, he had allowed me my snit with no argument or even any self defense. And he acknowledged my pain as legitimate.

Persisting Recurrent Innocuous Confusion

“Walter and Hildegarde witnessed our unfortunate interaction. Hildy was floored, as you were, by my inconsiderate--actually rude--remarks. She never said a word, watching as you reacted in kind.

“Walter was taken aback at first, but just as soon as you hissed in my face, he recognized the pattern.

“Josephine, when you said ‘Thanks a lot, bastard!’ and whatever else, he recalled the very expression he had used with me earlier. Apparently neither of you minced words with your reactions, but, while Walter attributed my aberrant behavior to Recurrent Confusion Syndrome, you interpreted it very differently.” At that I had to object.

“Vincent, you may regret it all, but frankly, back in Forbidden Glen we were well beyond the reach of any battle.”

“Josephine, the last day we were in the caverns, I was recovering from status attack, contracted in an encounter with a dragon.”

“I knew it! You were fighting dragons!” I fairly spat the words at him.

“Hush, Josephine. And don’t interrupt me again.” Then he sighed and relented. “At least until I’ve explained the situation.” At that point I could feel my face redden, both with embarrassment and righteous indignation. The whole thing sounded preposterous and concocted.

But Vincent had never lied to me before.

“Just as soon as you left, Walter called Matthew over to us. In no uncertain terms he ordered Eleanora to remove Aerith from my arms. She obeyed automatically and I responded with a barrage of invective. At that point anyone within earshot was on guard and reached for their weapons. Walter called an immediate halt to that. Then he dispersed the crowd, sending everyone back to the base on low-level alert. The party was over.

“All three of them--Walter, Hildy and Dr. Johan--escorted me back to the clinic. I was kept under guard until the situation could be properly diagnosed.

“They tell me that during the entire episode, I was rude, verbally abusive and uncooperative, but not violent. Their fear had been that the Confusion would manifest itself in attack magic or physical assault, but that never happened. Except for the fact that I would return any observation, suggestion or order, tit for tat, with a vicious insult or other snide comment, it was clear that no one was in physical danger.”

“It wasn’t until Matthew used an elixir on me that I even began to remember any of my return to Nibelheim.”

For the first time in some forty hours, I could feel the leaden weight lift off my heart. My eyes stung with tears of relief, and I began to feel remorse. Vincent saw and knew, but he shook his head dismissively.

“Persisting-Recurrent Innocuous Confusion. It is a relatively rare syndrome, one that we never saw in our entire time on the road to, or even inside, the North Crater. The Lesser Green Dragons around Nibelheim are known for it. Especially by the local militia.”

“You attacked a dragon? One of Esmerelda’s kind?” The thought left me very sad, but I supposed there was no help for it.

“We did not. We retreated as soon as possible. It was an immense, probably ancient, fellow minding his own business when we accidentally surprised him in his lair. He apparently launched a status attack, while we thought we escaped unscathed.

“As I say, directly after the encounter, I assaulted Walter, striking him with my claw. He shouted “Thanks a lot, bastard!” and whacked right back at me, even as he realized what must have happened. Of course, normally such a counter-attack would be the end of the status effect.

“That was shortly after the close call, and everyone was easily able to make the connection. It was assumed that his retort cleared up the Confusion, especially since I showed no further symptoms.

“Until we gathered in the Glen, Josephine. I am so sorry you took the brunt of the recurrence. The elixir should have resolved the problem, but we will stay on guard for now.”

“Persisting-Recurrent I can understand, but what about Innocuous? Pretty nasty of you to even verbally attack us…” Vincent looked sad and just a little sheepish, but he held my hand a little tighter.

“Innocuous is a relative term. No one would come to physical harm. The attacks are purely reactive. As you spoke to me, I spoke to you. For every positive, a negative. I am sorry.” And it was back to doom and gloom Vincent, his lovely ruby eyes clouding over as he spoke. I put my hand over his mouth.

“Stop that, please! Of course I forgive you, and I’m sure that Walter does, too. I never heard of Persisting Recurrent Confusion before, that‘s all. Vincent, you are always the model of perfect civility. An honest to goodness knight. My knight.” And I stopped, because it was all getting too effusive. Just too gushy.

Then he hugged me tightly, so I groaned and pushed him away.

“Aaack! You sure you’re cured?” And he knew I was joking. He grabbed me up into his arms and hugged me one more time.

I cuddled into his chest, looking up into his face. Then he wrinkled his nose and sniffed. I remembered that I was surely rather whiff still, and began to back away, only to be stayed by his tightened grip. Then he was smiling; it was too late to protect myself.

With no further ceremony, Vincent lifted me off the shore and tossed me into the tarn, stinky clothes and all.



Go to Josephine's Destination to continue.