City on the Horizon

			- by Andrew Vant -



	Aeris stood at the edge of the clearing, watching the 

forest before her. At least, her eyes looked into the

darkness. But she did not see the trees, nor the underbrush. 

Instead, she saw the forgotten capital of her people, half a world

away, and yet clear as crystal in her mind's eye. Her heiratage, 

her birthright. The City ahead, the Temple behind. Or what was 

left of it. 

	Her thoughts drifted. 

	She could no longer remain here. That much, she knew.

She had to go, to do what only she could. Alone, she thought.

I must go alone. It made her shudder, that terrible word.

Even when her mother died, she had not truly been alone. 

	Now, she would be. 

	They would follow her, of course. Especially Cloud.

There's no help for it, I guess, she thought. What could I do

about it? Leave a note, asking them not to follow? As if he

would listen...

	Damn.

	Her mind chased itself around in circles, but he was 

always at the center. Why could nothing ever be simple? It

was a relief, to leave him, but it was also a terror, not to 

have him at her side. How long, since they had met in the slums 

of Midgar? A few months? Not even. Yet he was already closer to 

her heart than her mother had ever been. Losing him would be like 

losing half of herself. Yet it must be done, and Life damn me for

it. 

	A twig cracking behind her brought her out of her reverie. 

	"Oh, it's you." she said, looking back. Red padded up next 

to her.

	"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, and for a moment

she was afraid that he knew what she planned to do. 

	"About what?" she asked weakly. 

	He stared at her, expressionless. "About what Cloud did. Or

didn't do." he said after a moment. When she showed no sign of 

responding, he laid down next to her. 

	"I know the two of you were...close. I thought you might

need someone to talk to."

	"That I do, Red," she murmured softly, "that I do."

	"He should be waking up soon." Red told her.

	"I know."

	They were silent for a few moments. Wind rustled the trees,

water ran over the rocks in the stream, animals chittered in the 

underbrush. The two of them spent a minute or so, listening to the

sounds of Life. 

	"Do you have to go?" Red asked quietly. Aeris jumped. 

	"How did you...how did you know?" she managed. 

	"I've been watching. I look, I see. The others...they don't

see. Surprising, really. I would have thought that they, being

human, could read you better than I."

	She sighed, and sat down, putting her arm around his

shoulders. On impulse, she scratched his ear. 

	"Yes," she said. "I really do have to go. You've all been 

like family to me, but I'm no longer safe here. Not so long as 

Sephiroth can take control of Cloud's mind."

	"It all comes back to that, doesn't it?" Red said sadly.

"Not even he knows what is really going on in there."

	Aeris thought a moment. "Why him, Red?" she asked, "Why not

Cid, or Vincent, or one of the others?"

	"I'm not sure, actually. Cloud has some kind of past with 

Sephiroth. Maybe it makes him more susceptible."

	"Maybe..." Aeris said doubtfully. 

	"Well?" Red asked.

	"Well, what?"

	"Where are you going?"

	"If I tell you, you'll all be right after me as soon as I 

leave."

	"True. But then, we will all be following you anyway."

	Aeris thought to herself. "Ask Cloud when he gets up."

	"He'll know?"

	"He'll know." She confirmed.

	Red looked as if he wanted to know how. He stayed silent, 

however, and Aeris was glad of it.

	"Red?" she asked, after a moment.

	"Yes?"

	Aeris fought a silent battle with herself, then blurted out:

"When Cloud wakes up...tell him I love him."

	Red stared at her, expressionless. "So," he said eventually,

"You've finally admitted it."

	"You knew?" she asked weakly.

	"We all knew." Red told her gently. "Except Cloud himself.

You never made it much of a secret."

	She waited. Then: "Well?"

	"Well, what?" Red threw her own words back at her. 

	She made a face at him. "Will you tell him?"

	Red thought, then said regretfully: "No."

	"Why not?" she demanded, angry in spite of herself.

	"You don't expect to return, do you?"

	Aeris's mind jerked to a halt. She had hoped to keep it to

herself, but...oh, well. She decided to be honest with him. 

	"Red...there's always hope, but.... You're partly right.

What I plan to do...there's always a price, you understand? But I

don't know what the price will be. I may have to die for it. But

if I do, I don't want to leave without telling him how I feel."

	Red stood up, shrugging off her arm. "I'm sorry." he said,

"but what would you have me do? Tell him that the woman who loved

him just left him, because he could not be trusted? Tell him how 

you feel, and then be forced to imform him in the same breath that

he could never speak with you again?"

	"I didn't say that." Aeris said, stung.

	"If you expected to return, you would be willing to let it

go, for now."

	"It's not that I think I'm going to die! I just..." she

trailed off.

	"You want to let him know how you feel," Red said gently, 

"but you're afraid to make the first move."

	"Approximately, yes."

	"It's not something I can help you with. If you achieve 

something without effort or sacrifice, you don't value it."

	"I...suppose so..." she conceeded.

	"If it helps any, you're not the only one caught this way."

	"Tifa, you mean." Aeris said, grimacing. Her rival, her 

friend. Why was life never simple?

	"It wouldn't be interesting if it were simple," Red said, 

grinning wolfishly. Aeris started, then realized she had spoken

her last thoughts aloud. 

	"And we would all die of boredom," Red finished.

	Aeris felt the tension run out of her. "Not you, Red." she 

said, finally able to laugh, "You have the patience of a stone! 

Not to mention a stone's stubborness."

	"A trait of my family," Red said, and they both sobered.

	"Red...I'm sorry." Aeris said sadly.

	"What for?" Red asked, looking puzzled.

	"You know...for running out on everyone like this."

	"Somehow, I think that what you'll be doing without us is 

more important than anything you can do with us." Red started to 

pad off toward the camp.

	"Red!" she called after him. He turned. 

	"Yes?"

	"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

	He looked at her. "No." he said finally. "I don't believe 

that you're in any real danger."

	"What do you mean?" she asked, confused. "I thought you just

said-"

	"I know what I said." He cut in, turning to leave again. "I 

trust your judgement in such matters. Your subconcious judgement,

if not the words you speak."

	"Wait! How do you know what I think, when I don't even know 

it myself?"

	Red was silent for a moment, then spoke. "If you really 

believed that you were going to die...you would have spoken to 

Cloud yourself."

	With that, he vanished. 

	Aeris would have stopped him again, but he was already gone. 

	"Damn." she muttered to herself. Red was right. But she

couldn't help feeling that once she left Cloud, she would never

speak to him again. She was half tempted to go back, wait for him.

They could go to the Capital together. But no. No. Much as she 

loved him, he could not be trusted. Maybe, if she succeeded, that

would change. She fingered the small, pure white sphere of materia

that she always wore in her hair. Useless, she had called it, when

she first met Cloud. Still useless. But if she could awaken the 

power in the crystal...

	She wondered, for a moment, what her price would be. What 

must I pay, to save the world? What price could possibly be too

great? None, she answered herself firmly; she stamped down hard on

the desire to speculate further. Best not to think about it at 

all. I cannot afford to lose my nerve now...

	Resolutely, the last of the Ancients placed her left foot

forward on the path to her destiny. After that, it was easier; the

one step became several, then many. Behind her was everything she

loved and cared for. Ahead was a road, straight and wide. She 

thought she could see the end from here, but she could not make 

out where it led. She vanished into the darkness of the path,

and only the faint whisper of wind in the trees, water in the 

stream, marked her passing.