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.


Please click Older Posts to continue------------------------------------------------>>>