Chapter Seventeen

A large tower shaped like a rocket stood about a mile from the place he now stood. Kedric had also provided him with a small plane and pilot to get him to his next location with all due speed. Since Sephiroth did not have to meet Jyleth for another week, and the plane trip was a matter of hours, Sephiroth had stayed an extra few days, sorting through Kedric's militia and selecting twenty members whom he would eventually train to the best of his ability. In order to prepare them for the training, he had given them a rigorous workout schedule set to work their bodies and minds to the edge. He hoped they would stay with it until he got back. The seven women and thirteen men had seemed to him to be very keen types; he expected they would meet his expectations and perhaps even set harder goals for themselves, depending on how soon he returned.

He turned his thoughts back to the troubling image that had been haunting him ever since he had left her. Jyleth. It had made sense at the time; some time apart would give him time to clear his mind from the lust that had constantly overshadowed his thoughts when she was around. The time he needed to understand what he was feeling about the girl – no, woman - who had been nothing but a quiet voice in his mind for so many years, one that had been a comfort especially in the last few years, but was now a very real entity. A very real, very attractive entity, he had to admit to himself. When he had first met Jyleth, all those years back, he had respected the power and ability that was so thoroughly a part of her person. That respect had led to uncontrolled lust, mainly due to the failing of his stringent SOLDIER upbringing of how to deal with feelings toward the other sex. Now faced with dealing with her in person once more, he realized he still held that deep respect for her ability, and that made her so attractive to him.

The time apart, instead of being a reprieve, had only inspired dreams from which he forced himself to wake from, sweating and shivering at the same time. The lust he had hoped would fade had manifested itself in his subconscious slumbering mind, permuting his two sexual encounters with Jyleth so perversely that the dreams remained with him all during the day, lying always at the edge of his thoughts, distracting him from the perfect concentration that used to come so easily to him. Realizing that he would be meeting up with Jyleth after so many nights of such dreams had not helped his state of mind, either. He had even considered skipping out on their rendezvous. Even now, staring at the silhouetted rocket monument, he considered the option.

“Running is a coward’s way out,” he said aloud to himself. “I am not a coward. I was a SOLDIER. I was the greatest general the world has ever seen.” He sighed deeply, wondering if the words would convince anyone. They didn’t sound convincing to his own ears. “I am not a coward,” he repeated quietly, this time, however, he told himself he believed the words. He increased his pace. There was time to deal with his own failings later. For now, there was a mission to be finished, something that he could put all of his effort and concentration into. Something that might bring welcome distractions from Jyleth and his dreams.

Rocket Town had grown much since the days when Shin-ra had ruled the world. A growing agriculture community had cultivated the fertile fields around the town and had brought in a new economy. Sephiroth had passed farms on his way in, noting the workers in the fields - and the occasional warrior type watching for monsters. Those warriors had glanced at him, but none of them seem to have taken any particular notice in the trademark long white locks and black attire. Had everyone forgot who he was?

In the town proper, he found his way to one of the many taverns. It seemed to be one of the less busy ones, and also sported an inn.

“Watcha wanting?” asked the innkeeper when Sephiroth walked in. The tavern was mostly empty this early in the day – it wouldn’t fill until the workers came in from the fields that evening. The innkeeper squinted at Sephiroth, the glare of the sunlight flooding in from the door obscuring the ex-SOLDIER’s features. Sephiroth shut the door carefully, then headed toward the bar, when the man stood, still squinting as his eyes adjusted from the sudden change of light.

“I would like a room for the night,” Sephiroth said, “and perhaps a few nights after that.”

“Alright,” the man said, stooping down to pick something up from his feet. Sephiroth involuntarily stiffened, half-expecting the man to come up with a weapon. The innkeeper brought a small clipboard instead. “Here,” he said, shoving it over the bar at Sephiroth, “It’s 75 gil a night. I just need you to sign…” His voice trailed off as he got his first real look at his prospective customer.

“You… you’re that crazy SOLDIER general, the one that tried to get us all kilt a few years back!” The man said, nervously twitching the clipboard away from Sephiroth’s outreached hand.

“I am Sephiroth,” he said softly, trying his best to not looking intimidating. He must of failed miserably, or the man had already made up his mind to be terrified. The innkeeper snatched at the clipboard again, making to perhaps use it as a shield, but only succeeded in dropping it on the floor instead. It made a horrible clatter, which served to increase the level of fear the man was already expressing. He gave a small yelp and jumped back from the board.

“You can’t stay here!” The innkeeper jerked his hand at the door, motioning at it vigorously. “I mean, you can’t, cause people will, you know, and Avalanche, they might come, and I can’t have that. Really. Um.” The innkeeper stepped several paces back, his eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape. The only other occupants of the room were two men who were so deep in their cups that they hadn’t noticed the commotion. Sephiroth took several steps back, feeling dismay and annoyance equally. He wanted desperately to shut the man up, but there was no way he could do so without risking giving the fellow a heart attack.

“I will leave, then,” Sephiroth said, giving a slight bow. “I am sorry to have bothered you.” He turned to leave, then turned back to face the man. The innkeeper let out a small squeak, raising his hands to plea for his life, which he expected Sephiroth to take at any moment. Sephiroth sighed deeply, then said, “I am not what I was.” He turned once more and fled the tavern, his inner pain clouding his features and thoughts. The townspeople took note of his passing, some calling his name in recognition, others using it as a curse. He dimly noticed that some ran to the tavern, probably expecting to find a scene of macabre death. He ran from the town at that thought, as if the speed of his departure would as quickly wipe away the pain he had felt seeing the fear and anger in their eyes.

Several days ahead of schedule, Jyleth thought to herself with satisfaction. She hadn’t given herself any time to rest up after her ordeals in Dio’s Arena, choosing instead to head straight for Nibleheim. The last challenge had far exceeded the previous two, leaving her barely standing as she finally managed to vanquish her last foe. Dio, of course, had been simply beside himself with pleasure at how the final fight had turned out. Jyleth was quite sure that he had collected quite a sum on attendance alone, not to mention from the betting. He had offered her several more days of food and lodging, free of charge, but she found she wanted out of the place as soon as she could move. She had left early the next day, carrying a pouch with several knuckle-sized glyphs carved out of a strange material that seemed too light be stone and a piece of paper with three names to show for her pointless Arena battles

She approached Rocket Town from the south, catching view of the famous Rocket monument long before she actually saw the city proper. It was a sprawling settlement, one that seemed so peaceful and quaint that she couldn’t help but smile when she took the time to look over the entire layout. So domestic. The world had truly changed since the Meteor, as people learned to live in turn with the planet rather than against it.

A motion to her right was the only warning she received before a lizard-like creature leaped at her, growling fiercely. She ducked and rolled, trying the avoid the claws as it slashed at her. A sharp pain across the side of her stomach testified to the creature’s reach. Coming up with just her staff as a weapon, Jyleth whirled to face the creature. A sound behind her alerted her that she had been attacked on both sides.

“Damnit!” She concentrated on a piece of materia embedded in the staff, directed the spell at the creature in front of her. It howled in rage as a bolt of electricity shot from the clear sky into its body. Jyleth turned her attention from the damaged creature and swung wildly at the one she had heard behind her. Her staff connected solidly with the second lizard creature’s arm, making it miss its attack. Jyleth used the momentary lull to quickly cast a healing spell on herself before she lost too much blood from the wound in her side.

Casting a quick glance behind her, which showed her that the lighting spell had not killed the monster, Jyleth lunged forward at the second monster, hoping that she might finish it before the other could get in range to attack her. At least they are slow, she noted. She feinted at the lizard’s abdomen, then quickly changed her strike to its throat, jabbing fiercely. It fell back, gasping and clutching at the now-crushed windpipe.

She didn’t turn quite quickly enough, and the first creature broad sided her in a rush of claws and teeth. She went down immediately, kicking up with both her feet and also jabbing with the staff, vaulting the creature over her before it could do much damage. It fell heavily to the ground beside its dying companion. Jyleth wrinkled her nose at the smell of singed flesh that came from creature wafted around her. Instead of waiting for it to attack again, she launched another lighting spell at it, wincing away from the heat the of strike so close to her. The brightness of the light temporarily blinded her as she got to her feet and stumbled away from where she had last seen the monsters. A sharp pain in her knee spoke of a sprained tendon. She muffled another curse and shook her head to clear the spots dancing before her eyes.

Her vision quickly returned, revealing two small, scatted piles of gil. Sighing, she cast another cure spell on herself, mentally noting that she didn’t have very many spells left in her for the day. After gathering the gil, she departed quickly and headed toward the town at a good pace, not wanting to have to fight any other of those particular creatures.

That’s what you get for daydreaming, she reprimanded herself as she hurried along, living with the planet. Right. She dodged away from the small, annoying pest monsters that really would not have been any trouble to kill. But those two were stronger than what I’ve been seeing recently. She hoped that they were not the beginning of a new trend.

She made it to the town near sundown, entering the city with a large amount of workers from the fields. They took no small notice of her, as she still wore the outfit she had received from Dio. Before she had left the Golden Saucer, she had acquired two more outfits similar the one Dio had given her. They were less flashy, one in shades of russet brown, the other in pale cream. She had also purchased a few repair kits for the outfits, as the thick threads she used on her Northern climate clothing just wouldn’t work on the lighter material. Luckily, the battle with the lizard monsters had only cause a few small tears in the chemise and pants; nothing that she could not easily sew in a single night.

A large gathering seemed to be taking place at one of the local taverns. Jyleth moved to get away from the crowd, seeking a quieter place for her lodging, until an angry voice shouted something she could not ignore.

“What Sephiroth here? That filthy bastard!”

Jyleth froze, turning to face the crowd. Sephiroth She had been trying very hard not to think too much about him, telling herself that she had no right to be thinking about him as much as she did. But that he was here, now. Regarding her hand, that only kept from shaking by gripping the staff hard, she realized that she wasn’t nearly as ready to face him again as she thought.

“Hey you!” A man shouted, pointing at her. Jyleth nearly leaped out of her skin, feeling as if the entire attention of the crowd had suddenly shifted to her. She shook of the waves of miasma she imagined coming over her and looked back at the man with careful consideration.

“You look like the fighter type,” he said. “You come here hunting Sephiroth?”

“Looks like she already was on the losing end of an encounter,” someone else remarked.

“I am looking for Sephiroth,” Jyleth answered in a quiet tone, stepping closer to the gathering. Now the entire attention of the group did turn toward her. “But I am not hunting him.” The crowd shifted quietly, waiting for her to continue. Jyleth quickly glanced about her surroundings, judging which direction would give her the fastest exit in case they became a mob after her next statement. “I am his friend; we were to meet here. Have you seen him?” She spoke in friendly tones, hoping to calm the fear and darker emotions she felt from the crowd.

“You are what?” The first man demanded, looking her up and down, as if seeing her for the first time. “Friend, right.”

“Sephiroth’s slut, more like!” A male voice shouted raucously.

“Sephiroth’s dead, you idiot,” someone else said. “This is just some sick hoax. Everyone can go home. There is no danger.” The crowd parted to reveal the speaker, who was a man with graying hair and a steady stride. He moved quickly through them toward Jyleth. She involuntarily stepped back into a ready stance, holding her staff tightly. He stopped, looking over her slowly, then turned back to the crowd.

“I said, go home,” he repeated firmly. People muttered and shuffled about, then generally began to filter off down the streets or into the tavern. The man turned his attention back to Jyleth. “We should talk,” he said.

“About what?” Jyleth eyed him suspiciously, taking in the curved sword he wore on his belt, as well as the knives she noted on several positions on his person.

“I don’t need you starting rumors about a long dead war criminal in my town,” he said gruffly, taking a few strides toward her and talking in a low tone. “I already have enough problems with Cid taking off with hardly a word. I don’t need some stupid wench causing trouble.”

“Look, I didn’t start-“

“Whatever you said, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted her. “Now you can just move right along, and out of this town, just as quickly as you came in.”

“But,” she started again, quickly growing annoyed at the man.

“Easy way or hard way?” He asked, putting his hand meaningfully the hilt of the curved sword. This time, she noticed several materia stones glittering there. Although she had little doubt she could defeat the man, she didn’t feel she was up for another hard fight that day, especially for something as pointless as a rumor. She backed off a pace, giving him a slight nod.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave. I won’t forget your town’s hospitality.” She turned on her heel and strode back out of the town quickly, wanting to reach the outskirts before dark. Sephiroth must have beat me here, she thought to herself. She reached the trail that led into the town from the south, looking around futily at the ground. It was dry and hard, not revealing any tracks to her. The sun cast a few last feeble rays over the land, then disappeared as she stood there, quietly cursing to herself. I’ll not find him today, but I better find a campsite before it is completely dark. She turned and headed away from the trail, heading toward a small copse of trees.

She had just finished gathering some stones for a small fire circle in her chosen camp area when she realized she was not alone. Whirling, she drew Kusamé, searching the darkness for the presence she had felt. There was a touch on her neck, the caress of metal against skin… she turned slowly, away from the blade, knowing what she would see but not prepared to see him.

Sephiroth lowered the Masamune away from her neck as she turned, smiling a quiet, amused smile as he did. Jyleth couldn’t help but notice the strain in his smile, the tightness at the edges, showing how forced the action was. She knelt down, unstrapped the crossed sheathes from her back, returned Kusamé to their place, then stood again, regarding him in the semi-darkness of the twilight.

“You have been to the town,” he said at last, finally dropping his eyes from hers. She swallowed hard, and nodded. “I should have known better than to expect them to all be so… accommodating… but it was very… disturbing, none the less.” He turned away from her, sheathing the Masamune so smoothly that the massive blade seemed to bend almost liquidly into the scabbard.

“They weren’t so nice to me either,” she said, trying to lighten the stiffness of the conversation. “In fact, I kinda though they were downright rude. Guess seeing that old rusty rocket monument makes them get cranky and…” Her words trailed off as he turned back to face her, his eyes ablaze with mako intensity. She felt that she could drown in the aqua-green depths. That she might have already drowned, but was too distracted to have noticed. His hand brushed her side, touched the puckered red wound from the fight earlier that day. She didn’t know how he had gotten so close without her seeing him move.

“A change of attire,” he said softly, ducking his head down so that he breathed the words against her neck. She flinched away, but found his hand against the small of her back. Raising his head, he met her eyes again, the mako glowing perhaps even more fiercely that before. A very long moment passed – she felt that he was staring into her soul – then he abruptly dropped eye contact, moving to the other side of the camp. He slammed his fist against his thigh in vexed irritation.

“This was pointless, hopeless.” His voice was strained. She wasn’t sure if he was referring to their interaction or the reaction of the people in the town.

“I have gotten several artifacts from Dio,” she said helpfully, choosing the easier option.

“That isn’t what I was referring to,” replied Sephiroth quietly. Jyleth could not repress a sigh, feeling that they had accomplished nothing in the time they were separated. She turned her attention back to her fire, wanting to get it started before it grew too dark to see.

“And I delivered the message to the Academy,” she continued.

“Jyleth,” Sephiroth said, his voice barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes, trying not to hear the pain in his voice.

“We have more important things to do,” she said, keeping her attention focused on a small piece of green fire materia she held in her hands. She concentrated on it, evoking a small fire in the middle of the pile of twigs she had gathered.

“This is very important to me now,” he continued, kneeling beside her and taking both her hands in his. “Until I learn to control myself around you, the person I know and trust most, how can I possibly learn to deal with others?”

“You trust me?” Jyleth searched his eyes, surprised to hear him make that statement. “Didn’t you say once that you would never trust anyone ever again, after all the lies and deceits you had suffered through your life?”

Sephiroth smiled that tight, forced smile again. “I think someone told me then that making such a statement was foolish and rash.” He released her hands and sat back, the smile fading from his features so quickly she wasn’t sure it had been there in the first place.

“So I did,” she acknowledged. “Sephiroth, you have dealt with others before, you know. For five years, you wandered from town to town and never had a problem.”

“Yes,” he admitted, “but I had you inside my head then, the constant voice of reason – or a nag, at times.” She smiled at that. “And, I didn’t have to deal with … my mistakes. How do I deal with people like those in this town?” He motioned off to the darkness in the direction of Rocket Town.

“Well,” she said, adjusting a few twigs to help the fire, then added a few branches as the flames strengthened. “I don’t think you should do anything at this time. At least not directly. I think we should just continue doing what we have promised we would do. Rumor spreads tales much faster than we could ourselves. They will eventually start to question their initial judgment when they hear you are doing good deeds.”

He sighed. “And what if they could care less about the Ancient’s City? I think only the people of Bone Village truly understand the importance of the ruins, and then only a few actually care to protect it.”

“Well, it’s better than trying to take over the world,” Jyleth said, giving him a rueful smile, “or, trying to destroy the world.” Sephiroth shrugged to show that she had proved her point.

“What about us?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “If you were any other person, I would say, ‘Go see a shrink.’ But…”

“A shrink?”

“A head doctor, a-“

“I know what a shrink is,” he said, cutting her off. “You think I need a shrink?”

“Well, um. Sephiroth, you yourself have admitted you don’t know how to deal with your emotions. That you didn’t get the chance to experience them in the raw like most of us do in adolescence.” She paused for a moment, considering the flames and she carefully chose her next words. “I think you are afraid of your feelings, that you think that any decision made purely from emotional response is one that is made without control. But, there, you have it wrong. Most of us make a lot of decisions purely off rash emotions – you did so when you said you would never trust again. You had been hurt, and you were determined to see that never happened again, so you made a vow based off an emotional hurt.” Jyleth looked back to him, making sure he hadn’t left the conversation in form or spirit. His eyes told her he was hanging on her every word, as if she would reveal some key that would solve everything. Right, she thought. One day, he might learn that everything is not accomplished in a split second. Life takes time.