Last Exit for the Lost Chapter 29
Hallowed Land
By Damodred
The dull drone of the engine and the occasional rumbling of the storm succeeded
in lulling Tifa to sleep. It's been a long day, and an even longer night,
fraught with discoveries, uncertainties and trusts endowed and abused. Her
sleep was uneasy and she often awoke, staring at nothing for minutes and
then falling back into fitful sleep, shivering in the chilly air. Eventually,
she felt a warmth spread throughout her body and a welcome sense of comfort
pervaded her bruised soul. She slept soundly and dreamlessly, her head on
Sephiroth's shoulder, his cloak draped over her resting body.
Aerith glanced back from the copilot's seat, raising an eyebrow. The tall
SOLDIER sensed her gaze and looked up from his bemused contemplation of Tifa.
He had been absent-mindedly playing with her hair, twirling strands of it
around one of his long, slender fingers and looking out the window occasionally.
Not that there was anything to see, even as they flew on into an early dawn.
Milky clouds moved rapidly outside the glass pane, and towards the morning
changed into a cohesive, uniform mass of white. The fog muted all sound,
and lent itself to quiet contemplation, whispered conversation or silent
companionship. Her mind's at rest now; the turmoil is gone. Aerith
informed Sephiroth, still studying his expression. He nodded once and passed
his hand over Tifa's face. She sighed softly, once, but continued sleeping.
The white-haired warrior frowned slightly, turning his gaze towards Aerith,
beginning to ask a question. He knew that the spell he'd cast on her was
designed by SOLDIER to give an easy, restful sleep that could be disrupted
at any point to bring the sleeper to full awareness in seconds. It was strange
that Tifa didn't wake right away, but in cases of extreme exhaustion he supposed
it was possible. About to ask Aerith to peek into Tifa's mind just to make
sure, he didn't see as the tall woman's eyes flew wide open, glowing an unholy
red. Quick as lightning she stood up, grasping his arm and twisting it savagely
behind his back. Her strength, and the pain drove him to his feet as Aerith
unbuckled her belt, walking towards the passenger area of the plane. His
arm gave out with a loud snap as Tifa shoved him contemptuously at the advancing
Ancient. They both went down in a heap, Aerith's head striking the metal
floor of the plane with a thud. Sephiroth's face was struggling for composure
as he tried to get up, cradling his damaged hand with his healthy one. He
threw Aerith a quick, concerned look but seeing that she was unhurt began
healing his arm. Aerith struggled to clear her vision, kneeling on one leg,
and propping herself up with her arm. She could see Tifa, but with a transparent,
demonic shape overlayed on her form, standing a few feet away from them,
not moving. The lines of force coming out of the shadowy figure led somewhere
ahead of them, disappearing into the floor of the plane. The lines pulsed
as Tifa's fists clenched and her hair streamed out from her head, pushed
away by the power she was exuding, forming a hellish halo around her head.
Her mouth opened and a raspy, inhuman, but unmistakably Chaos's voice emerged
from her throat. "I hold the Black Materia, traitors!" it spat at them, the
words chilling their hearts. "You cannot defeat me," it continued, gloating.
It made as if to speak further as Tifa's mouth opened but suddenly paused.
Her form was suddenly still, frozen in an eerie tableau, and her mouth slowly
closed, to be replaced by a slight, soft smile, contrasting sharply with
the glowing red eyes. They could hear an unearthly howl, resonating with
their minds as the presence shrunk down to a pinpoint and vanished, the howl
cut off suddenly, the lines of force shining a bright white for an instant
and then evaporating. It was as if a switch had been thrown as Tifa's hair
obeyed gravity once again, the infernal red faded from her eyes and Tifa
herself slumped to the floor, unconscious once again. Exchanging puzzled
looks, they walked warily towards her, Sephiroth's arm swinging uselessly
at his side. He ignored it as they approached, twitching a bit in startlement
as she began to stir anew. She sat up, smiling triumphantly but winced and
groaned, reaching up to her head with her hand. "I beat him," she said weakly,
still holding her head, grimacing with the residual pain. Aerith nodded,
serene once again, "Your training paid off," she observed, glancing back
to check on Shera, who has suddenly become the most vulnerable person in
the group, having no way to ward off a mental attack, if another one should
come. Even Yuffie, whose training must have included some sort of awareness
of the Planet, to make her so stealthy and strong, had some sort of protection.
Aerith moved to the front, taking the copilot's seat once again. If Chaos
decided to attack and overpower Shera and showed more guile about it, they
could fly straight into a mountain before they knew anything was wrong. The
short-haired pilot didn't believe the danger, but acquiesced to Aerith's
wishes anyway, pulling up above the cloud layer and improving visibility.
They flew on, into the growing light.
"There!" pointed Aerith. Shera squinted, making out a darker patch on the
horizon. "Looks pretty small," she said dubiously, making the slight course
correction necessary to intercept the pointed out land. She had been flying
for most of the night, letting Aerith fly when a course correction was necessary.
Stifling a discreet yawn, she wondered at the other woman's certainty in
flying; from no visible clues she simply picked the direction and changed
the course, unhesitating. Apparently it paid off, as the small island came
into focus.
.