Chapter Nineteen: "It’s Been Years"

They continued to travel the next day, following the road that they believed would take them to Rocket Town. Sabin carried Cloud as usual, Tifa walking beside them while Nadia stayed with Crono, attempting to form some kind of sign language the two of them could understand. For once Aeris was subdued and walked as if in a daze, sometimes ahead of and sometimes behind the group. She was left alone. At about noon the road joined with another coming from the sea, and they came upon a truck driver who’d stopped to eat his lunch. After much coaxing he agreed to take them to the town. Two hours later they could see it.

"Hey—what is that?" Sabin caught sight of it first: the top of some kind of tower, protruding from behind a tall hill in the road. They could see it better as they came closer.

It was a tall metal structure, cylindrical and pointed like some kind of missile supported by two more columns. But the center wasn’t quite upright; it stood at a forty degree angle away from where the axis should have been. The metal was rusted and badly in need of repair.

"That’s the ol’ Shin-ra 26," reported the driver bitterly. "Haven’t heard of it? Shin-ra’s first and last attempt at a space launch."

Sabin leaned forward to hear over the rumbling of the truck. "What happened?"

He snorted. "A mis-start. Just as they were taking off the Captain hit the abort code—flopped down and almost fell over. It’s been like that ever since. Every year it leans a little more."

"You worked on it?"

"Yeah, I was an engineer. Name’s Cid."

Rocket Town was much less busy than they imagined it would be. The people were curious and scrutinizing, constantly aware of everything but saying nothing. It almost seemed that the lengthening shadow of the rocket had an oppressive affect on them. They quickly found an inn and rented two rooms.

"Well, I’m on a mission and Crono’s coming with me," Nadia declared, snagging the youth’s sleeve—she was careful not to touch his skin while she still had things to say. "We’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t worry about us."

"That’s fine." Sabin started with Cloud toward the back room. "I’m setting this lug down and taking a nap. We’ll be back here at six for dinner, alright?"

"Sure."

They began to split up then, pairing off to explore the small town. Nadia left immediately with Crono and Sabin volunteered to stay at the inn with Cloud. Tifa was a bit anxious about leaving the two alone, but then Aeris suggested that they try to arrange some transportation to Cosmo Canyon. Reluctantly she agreed.

"We should find the leader of the town," Aeris said. "If we explain our situation, I’m sure he’ll help us."

Tifa nodded. It felt strange being alone with this woman—she was older but she often acted like a child, so optimistic one moment and so mysterious the next that it was hard to get an impression of what she was thinking. What was she trying to accomplish in attempting to make the two of them friends? It wasn’t something to be suspicious about, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious.

After asking several people of the town, they determined that the Captain was the leader of the town, and the one most likely to help them. Another interesting fact was that every man they spoke to claimed to have the name Cid. Confused, they finally came to a small house on the side of town nearest the rocket launch site. Behind it was a brightly colored airplane, seemingly in marvelous condition. "If we had a plane," Aeris said excitedly, "we’d get there in no time. Think the Captain’ll let us rent it?"

"We’ll find out."

The door was answered by a brunette woman wearing a blue casual dress, and though she was older than both women there was a youthful and very timid air about her. "May I help you?" she asked politely.

"Yes," Tifa replied, trying to be friendly but also business-like. "We’re looking for the Captain. The people in the town said he could help us."

"Please don’t say his name is Cid," Aeris added.

The woman looked puzzled a moment, then laughed. "Oh, that’s a joke everyone plays on visitors," she explained, leading them inside. "Did you know that, in Shin-ra’s history, there have been 53 employees named Cid?"*

They exchanged incredulous glances. "Really?"

"Yup. I checked. It seems to be a popular name for engineers and scientists." She grinned sheepishly. "Actually, the Captain’s name is Cid—for real. Cid Highwind. My name’s Shera."

Aeris shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. I’m Aeris, and this is Tifa." Her eyes sparked. "That wouldn’t be Shera Highwind, would it?"

"Oh no, that’s ridiculous," she said quickly, but she was also blushing. "Cid’s his own man—he’ll never settle down. We’re just living together."

"Oh, I see."

Tifa frowned, trying to remember where she’d heard the name before. "I met a Daryl Highwind in Junon," she said thoughtfully. "Know her?"

Shera’s face lit up. "You met Daryl? That’s Cid’s sister—we were good friends a while ago." She smiled with the memory. "Wow, that was a long time ago. Was she all right? I’ll bet she hasn’t changed at all."

"Well…" Tifa now wished that she hadn’t brought up the subject; the Daryl she met was hardly a charming woman. She was saved, however, when a man entered through a side door. He was dressed in a baggy pilot’s outfit, complete with thick goggles perched on his forehead. His hair, a dirty blond, was in a similar slovenly manner. A cigarette protruded from his lips. He didn’t notice them at first, moving to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

"Uh, Cid," Shera started hesitantly, and her guests noted the fact that her manner had changed when he entered the room—she was even more shy and timid in his presence than before. "Did you see we have company?"

"Company?" he snorted, glancing over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah. Guess so." He dried his hands on his pants. "Did ‘ya serve them tea?"

"No, but Miss Tifa here—"

"Well goddamnit woman, serve them some tea for Christ’s sake," he interrupted. "You keep buying the shit but we don’t drink it—might as well go to someone."

Tifa cringed—they’d entered into some kind of domestic dispute, that was certain. "Thank you, but we’re fine."

"Nonsense; drink it so I don’t have to." He puffed on his cigarette and started to leave. "Make yourselves at home."

"Uh, excuse me," she called after him, "but you’re the Captain, right?"

He stopped, turning to face her almost suspiciously. "You aren’t from Shin-ra, are you?"

"No. We’re hoping you could help us." Her answer changed his anxiety to curiosity, and he dropped heavily into a chair at the kitchen table. Tifa joined him and explained their situation. "We’re trying to get to Cosmo Canyon, and we need to get there as soon as possible. It’s a little difficult to say why, but we desperately need your help."

Cid considered a moment, then turned to Shera. "Hey, you get that damn tea yet?"

"I’m making it," she replied quietly.

"Good." He settled back in his chair, exhaling smoke. "Cosmo Canyon, eh? Pretty far. Plane could make it pretty fast, though. Half a day, maybe."

"We saw the plane you have out back," Aeris spoke up. "We wondered if we could rent it out."

His face reflected an immediate negative. "That’s my Tiny Bronco. She’s one of a kind—no way in hell I can let’er go. Sorry, girls."

Shera set out the tea, but only Aeris drank any, wanting to be polite. "Well, is there anything you could spare for us?" Tifa asked hopefully.

"Miss Tifa says she met Daryl," Shera threw in helpfully.

"Daryl?" Cid leaned forward, seemingly delighted. He put his cigarette out. "No shittin’? God damn I miss that girl." He grinned. "I bet she’s still a bossy priss. Where’d’ya meet her?"

Tifa cringed internally, as their exchange was not one she was eager to repeat. "It was in Junon," she answered hesitantly. "She’s Captain of the President’s airship."

"The Highwind." He sat back, a look of rueful nostalgia invading his eyes. "She was a beauty. Damn good ship. We’ll, I’ve made up my mind," he said abruptly. "I’ll help you."

She blinked. "You will?"

"Sure. How many you got?"

"Six, actually."

Cid lit a fresh cigarette. "Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. There’s a town ‘bout four hours form here called Porre—the old New Figaro. You know it?"

"Yes."

"Well, I got nothin’ better to do, so I’ll take you there. Got a friend who works there, and he’s got himself an airship. Kinda small, but he charters it for folks like you. Get you to Cosmo Canyon by tomorrow, I’ll bet."

"Really? Mr. Highwind, that would be incredible."

He laughed. "Damn you people—call me Cid." He got up from his chair. "I’ll borrow Will’s truck—he won’t mind. Just drag your asses over her at about seven an’ well get going nice and early."

Tifa smiled brightly and shook his hand. "I don’t know how to repay you," she said warmly.

"You can start by drinking the damn tea," he replied, utterly serious. "Save me from it. But anyway, I got a rocket to work on." He started back for the door. "See you later."

"Thanks again."

"He seems like a nice guy," Aeris said once he’d left. "Interesting, but nice."

Tifa shook her head. "Are you kidding? Weren’t you listening to him?" Then to Shera, "How can you put up with him ordering you around?"

"It’s not so bad." Shera cleaned up the dishes and set them aside. "He’s a good man, just a little excitable sometimes. He talks like that to make people listen."

"It works," Tifa admitted. "But still, he treats you like a maid. What do you owe him anyway?"

"Everything, actually." She dried off her hands and took a seat next to them. "I was the one that ruined his dreams—all of theirs. It was my fault Shin-ra 26 never launched."

Tifa knew it wasn’t any of her business, but she couldn’t help but ask. "Why is that?"

Shera could sense that question coming, and she was ready for it. "There were three of us living here once," she started. "Me, Cid, and Cid’s best friend. We all worked on the rocket together. But on the day of the final launch I found a miscalculation in one of the oxygen tanks, so I stayed in the lower level to finish my repairs. Cid didn’t know I was down there, so they started the launch sequence." She smiled grimly. "He knew that if we didn’t launch then, we wouldn’t get another chance for at least another six months. I wanted to fix the tank so he could make it—I didn’t care if the engine fried me—but at the last moment he pushed the abort. The engine went off, pushed the rocket up for a second, and then fell back. That’s when it tilted."

"And he blames you," Tifa suggested.

"He did it to save my life, and whenever I used to mention it he always said he’d do it again. We don’t talk about it anymore, because I know I ruined all his dreams. All he wanted was to be in space, and I took it from him. I deserve the way he treats me." She stood, and began to tidy up the small kitchen. "And it’s not like he’s cruel to me—like I said, he’s a good man."

"What about the friend?" Aeris inquired.

"Three months after the incident he left—off to bigger and better things, I suppose."

"I’m sorry."

Shera smiled warmly. "Oh, never mind. You both look like you’ve had problems of your own. Cosmo Canyon is a very interesting place. It must be important."

"Yes, it is." Tifa stood and shook her hand one last time. "Thank you very much for everything, Shera. We really appreciate it."

"Oh, it’s nothing. Good luck to both of you."

The two girls thanked her and went outside. "Well, that was quite a success," Aeris said cheerfully as they left. "Such nice people. It’s too bad things didn’t work out for them."

"Yeah, but everyone will be happy—we have a plan now, at least."

"Hey guys, wait up!" Nadia came running up to them, dragging along with her a young man they almost didn’t recognize at first. "Look what I was able to do!" she bragged, pushing him forward. "Not bad, huh?"

Crono ducked his head shyly. He looked like a completely different person—his hair had been cut so that it spiked in several directions from his head, held out of his eyes by a wide headband. His soldier garb had been traded for a pair of pants and a shirt, as well as a brown jacket and thick soled boots—ones that fit, for a change. He’d been cleaned of all the dirt and film from the reactor. All in all, it was a startling metamorphosis—he was actually quite handsome. "Well, you were right about one thing," said Aeris with approval. "He is a stud. How old is he?"

"Nineteen. Isn’t he just adorable?" She giggled, and Crono looked away in embarrassment. "Taking care of him was more fun than playing with paper dolls back home!"

Tifa grinned, throwing in, "Hey Nadia, what about Edgar?"

"Edgar?" She turned toward her curiously. "What about him?"

"Well…" Tifa noticed immediately that Crono was watching her, his eyes sharp and attentive. She broke off.

"Oh, I know what you’re thinking," Nadia replied, "but don’t get the wrong idea. Edgar’s…just Edgar. Besides, giving a boy a makeover is hardly a crime, right?"

"Guess so."

Crono made a pouting face, hoping they’d get the idea and explain what was going on. Nadia laughed. "Oh, poor Crono. Don’t worry—it’s nothing. Come on; we have to meet for dinner."

Tifa nodded, leading the way back to the inn. "We’ve got some good news that I’d like to share, so let’s be quick."

"Miss Chere?"

Celes turned as the little moogle walked over to her. She was sitting on the edge of one of Cosmo Canyon’s highest tiers where she could see the entire village—or at least, that which was not built into the mountain. Men and women strolled leisurely about doing normal things in their normal lives, unknowing of what may lay in their future. She envied their bliss. "Yes, Mog?"

He sat down beside her, and she couldn’t help but smile. Even in his seriousness the creature’s dwarfish form and koala-like face made him look like some large stuffed animal, making it difficult to think of him as a highly intelligent being. Be he was, as he’d proven during several long conversations during the day. He’d convinced her to be patient and wait for the rest of the group, and he had taught her many things about the canyon and the planet itself. She enjoyed his company.

Presently Mog was holding a small red materia in his chubby hands. "I’ve been saving this," he said, the light of dusk reflecting off its smooth surface. "It’s a special summons materia. You know what summons materia is?"

"The spirits of the Ancients," she replied. "Mako is spirit energy, and the spirits of certain Ancients were condensed into materia."

"Kupo." His face scrunched. "But it’s more than that. These aren’t normal Ancients—they’re Ancients that have been mutated by Jenova."

She frowned. "Mutated how?"

"I can’t explain it—we moogles aren’t allowed to interfere with fate." He handed the materia to her. "You’ll have to find out for yourself, but this will help. It’s a special summons, one that will call the spirit of a very special Ancient. But you can only use her knowledge once, so be careful."

Celes stared at the crimson sphere, wondering what power it held in its small size. "Thank you, Mog."

"Kupo." He climbed to his feet and left her with her thoughts.

The sun disappeared beneath the horizon, and night came quickly out of the lengthening shadows. She watched it, lost in a silent repose. But then she felt something—a dull nudging in her stomach. She felt as if she needed to go somewhere, to meet someone. She wanted to go. She had no choice. Without questioning she tucked the materia into the pocket of the yellow sundress she’d been given to wear, and left the ledge. She spoke to no one and exited the town. Her aimless wandering took her far away, to a stand of tall redwood trees at the base of a cliff side. She waited.

"Thank you for coming." The tall figure that was Sephiroth stepped out from behind a tree. She responded with no surprise, as if anticipating his arrival. "It’s been a long time, Chere. You look like a fine woman."

Celes returned his gaze defiantly, the spell which had drawn her there wearing off from her mind quickly. "What do you want?" she asked in a level tone. "I thought you were still in Nibelheim."

"Distance over a globe means nothing to the children of Jenova. Your children."

The general inhaled sharply. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He came forward—she took a step back. "It’s the family you always wanted," he said, his emerald eyes flashing from their place in his skull. "Cloud is the Father Angel—you guessed it, Chere. I knew you understood. And you are the Mother. But you already knew that, too." His hands cupped her face, and somehow she couldn’t turn away. The material of his gloves was cold against her skin. "With our help—his and mine—your children will live for millenniums, rule over millions of planets in hundreds of galaxies. Can you imagine how beautiful it will be?"

"You’re mad," she hissed, though still doing nothing to escape his touch. His presence comforted her oddly, and calmed the pain boiling in her abdomen. She missed him, no matter how badly she tried to deny it—he was always the only one that could grant her some effective reassurance, her best friend and partner, even if they’d grown apart over years of insecurity. Could they ever go back to that again? Or had the Sephiroth she’d trusted so dearly died in Nibelheim?

Then he did something she didn’t expect. He wrapped his arms carefully around her, with infinite tenderness as if embarrassing a tiny child, or a statue made of glass. "I’m sorry about these past years," he said in a tone that conveyed the greatest sincerity she’d ever heard in him. "I had no way to reach you, because of Hojo. I wanted to tell you, so we could start this together, like we always did. And I’m sorry I couldn’t make you understand it all sooner." His eyes, twin pools of endless depth, raised their gaze to the heavens. To the stars, so beautiful. "There were so many wonderful things I wanted to show you."

Celes bit her lip, wishing desperately that she could make sense of it all. Her fingers wound themselves in the thick fabric of his coat. She leaned her head against his chest. "Seph, I—"

And then she paused. She listened for the faint beating pulse behind his ribs, but it wasn’t there, nor did she detect the rise and fall of a steady breath. She touched his bare skin and her fingers stung with the cold. "Seph," she said quietly, "what’s going on?" Her voice quivered. "If Cloud is the Father Angel, and I am the Mother, what does that make you?"

"It makes me…" A twisted smile curled his lips, and his hand tightened on her shoulder. "…a god."

The pain was so intense that Celes couldn’t help but cry out, and Sephiroth held her still so that her legs would not buckle beneath her. She gripped his coat in a desperate attempt to remain upright. She could feel the sickening sensation of blood flowing from a wound in her torso, but she couldn’t see it as she was still trapped against his larger body.

"I know it hurts," Sephiroth said quietly, and with horror she realized that it was his bare hand that had gored so deep a wound in her gut. "It will for a while, but then never again. Never again."

The enraged cry rang thunderingly in the general’s ears, and the next thing she knew she was thrown onto her back. She yelped as her injury jarred, spilling more of her blood over the dusty earth. She could hear a struggle overhead. A moment later the combatants broke apart and moved away, both breathing heavily, but she couldn’t see as her eyes were squeezed shut in agony. She could hear Sephiroth, though, as he was nearby and his voice loud. "So, it’s you. I’ve been waiting to meet you face to face. It’s been years."

She heard no reply, but then a man was beside her. One of his hands took hers while the other laid over her wound, then pulled back. "It’s all right, Mother," the voice of a young man said. "You won’t die. We won’t let you."

The general opened her eyes and gazed up at the youthful face. It was one she recognized: one of her SOLDIERs. "R…Ramza?"

Glenn shifted his focus, and his eyes widened in shock. Ramza held a deformed mass of flesh, which undulated and twitched as if it were excited. He knew immediately what the being was by the swirling tenticles and one, bloodshot eye: Jenova. Ramza placed the creature gently over Celes’ stomach.

"General Celes!" Glenn started forward but Sephiroth intercepted him—the blade of his seven foot long sword gleamed in his right hand, forcing him to retreat a step. "Sephiroth," he demanded, "what are you doing to her?"

"Fulfilling her destiny," he replied coldly. "And yours." In a movement too quick to be avoided his arm shot forward and impaled the SOLDIER Hunter on his steel, the entire length slicing through the abdomen’s tender flesh. His enemy’s blood warmed his hands. It was a satisfying feeling, one that lasted long after he’d cast the body into the dust. He laughed darkly.

Celes, oblivious to their battle, reached up, touching the young man’s face. "Ramza, what…?"

"Hush, mother." His voice was empty, and it frightened her. "It won’t hurt."

"But what…" She felt a dull pressure on her stomach, and heat that spread gradually into the wound she’d been dealt earlier. It was a pleasant kind of sensation, one her weary body welcomed. She couldn’t see what he’d done. All she knew was that it comforted her with its warmth, and soothed the fiery pain that had once threatened to claim her consciousness. The world seemed very insignificant all of a sudden compared to the peace she felt now.

Glenn struggled onto his hands and knees, and blood oozed from his lips. It had been a long time since he’d felt pain as intense as he felt it now, a fact that was more profound in its shock than anything else. He’d never lost to a SOLDIER before, and he couldn’t now.

Sephiroth loomed over him, and a heavy boot slammed into his side. "You’re pathetic," his assailant hissed as Glenn collapsed once more. "You don’t understand what you’re dealing with. You never did. I’ve waited for this chance." He kicked him again. "I’ll teach you the fear you gave us: the fear of death."

Glenn climbed to his feet with the help of his own blade. "Go to Hell."

Sephiroth laughed. "You first."

Ramza helped the general to her feet; by now her injury had miraculously healed, but she was too confused to question how. Her gaze landed on the spectacle of the two men, gauging each other carefully. Glenn was bleeding profusely and was dependant on the support of his sword to remain upright—Sephiroth’s blade still trailed out behind him, lodged in his torso. He was close to exhaustion. Their eyes met.

Sephiroth charged suddenly, tackling his opponent head on. He lifted him clearly off the ground by the collar and threw him into the closest tree. The impact caused the thick trunk to quiver. With a strangled cry Glenn flopped to the ground, and he didn’t attempt to stand again.

The three SOLDIER members stared down at Glenn’s body, silent and inert, and felt a kind of appreciation for the deed that had been done—especially Celes. She watched the blood slowly creep along the rocks and, just barely, the edge of her lip curled.

"Glenn? Celes!" Locke came running over one of the rocky hills, Nanaki beside him and Lucca bringing up the rear. "Celes, are you okay?" he demanded urgently, taking her shoulders. She realized with a start that both Sephiroth and Ramza were gone. "What happened? We tried to follow Glenn, but—"

"Locke," Nanaki and Lucca were beside Glenn, carefully rolling him onto his side. "You’d better come over here."

The treasure hunter turned his head, and his face became pale. He took a quick check over Celes before running to join his other two friends. "Wha…what the hell happened? This…" He shook his head. "This isn’t possible."

Lucca inspected the wound carefully, then said, "Help me get the sword out. Then maybe we can use some magic to heal him."

Locke nodded, wrapping his hands around the handle. Lucca joined him while Nanaki held the man still under his paws. Slowly, the metal began to slide out of its human sheath.

Glenn gritted his teeth, trying not to cry out, but he couldn’t help it. The sound of his voice startled them all, and they stopped pulling. He hissed for them to continue. "Bring my sword," he said weakly.

They wrenched the blade free, and Lucca quickly covered the wounds in his stomach and back with his cape. Locke dragged the sword over, and to their surprise it began to glow a dull green. The blood flow began to slow. The trio relaxed somewhat, and it was then that Lucca realized Celes wasn’t with them. She frowned, and called, "Celes, what’s wrong? What happened?"

The general was watching them from several feet away, her face blank and emotionless. "It was Sephiroth," she said quietly. "He did that to him."

"What about you?" Lucca asked. "Your dress’ torn. Were you bleeding?"

"I’m find. Let’s go back."

Locke frowned, detecting something that wasn’t quite right about her. "Alright, but will you help me carry Glenn? He needs help."

"I’ll do no such thing," she snapped back, startling them with her callousness. She turned her back on them. "That man is a murderer. I won’t help him."

Lucca was about to say something, but Locke motioned for her silence. "Celes," he stated firmly, "this man is my friend, and he needs help. Please just help me take him back and I’ll handle it myself." And when she didn’t respond, "I’m going to do this with or without your help. Celes, stop acting selfish."

"Selfish?" she exclaimed, spinning around. "I’m acting selfish?"

But now he was ignoring her, instructing Lucca on how they would go about carrying the injured man. She nodded and, casting glances back at the general, pulled Glenn’s arm over her shoulder. Locke did likewise, and they hoisted the man to his feet.

Celes glared as they went past her, but she didn’t say anything, nor did she attempt to help them in any way. Her hand drifted unconsciously to her stomach. She didn’t feel bad about not lending assistance—the man was a murderer, and deserved much worse punishment than what he’d been given. He deserved much more pain. For she had a special Hell waiting inside her for those that harmed her children.

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