Hero [Vivi/Closed]

[Eiko Carol Fabool]

Fenrir had never left her side. Phoenix had blessed her heart again. Carbuncle's gems were embedded deep in the shallows of her soul. Now there was only Mog left to find again.

Her little legs had grown thin and spindly, awkwardly carrying her in a skip so disgraceful that her mother would have rapped her hands. Her purple hair danced rhythmically in the feeling of her own exaltation and freedom. Her face seemed bright as the sun in the pale blue skies.

Anticipation made her fingers quiver but there was no trepidation to mar her confidence. An old friend would be returning to her, like a gasp from the deepest gashes of her mind. Guilt would finally be severed in a feeling of absolute forgiveness and remembrance.

She would go down by the shore - find pebbles she knew Mog would like and wash them clean in the ocean. As a child she had always found happiness by the sea, laughing and wondering what adventures might lay beyond the endless blue. As she had grown a little older and watched other children play in little saline pools, she had come realize that the sea was laughing with them. This ocean, which could swallow up cities and guzzle whole the entire world, chose instead to laugh with children and create for her little grey pebbles and swirls in the sand.

She knelt, gathering little rounded ones in her wooden bucket. She loved the sound as they rapped against the bottom. Sighing, she brushed a sliver of purple out from her face. Perhaps she should have went to Maiden Sari. Memories flashed before her green eyes, years stretched out on a plane of dust. No. No, Mog would like it here by the cool green bay where chocobos could be heard in the distance crying from Chocobo Forest.

Walking down by the waters edge, she poured her bucket of pebbles into the sea, freeing them of grimy algae. Her eyes narrowed, something strange was in the water. Raising an eyebrow, she leaned forwards, hands snatching the thing bobbing on the surface.

When she had unravelled it and washed drained out all the water that had filled it to the brim, she found her soul to be broken in two. All that confidence and happiness drained from her, and the pebbles in the sea rolled out from reach.

Childhood cried back to her, swimming in her belly and causing white hot tears to spill from her eyes. Little white gloves that quivered and faltered when she spoke to him but could find the courage to burn monsters to a crisp should they turn their fangs against her. A quiet little voice that shuddered into existence or otherwise would rage against the tides of injustice. Brilliant amber eyes that could blaze into the night or soften with the rivers of emotion. Soulless? If he was soulless, then what good was the soul. Vivi.

She held his sodding, sagging hat to her heart and lay down on the shoals, the rocks digging into her back. She didn't care. The misery and the tears poured and pounded against the shore, like the waves against the rocks. She was a little girl again, skin full of youth and eyes a blaze of intelligence. She wanted to go back then, back on the adventure that had swept up their lives before leaving them scattered and broken on the shore.

Vivi had been lost in the turmoil. A single note floating in a glass bottle had been her only means of being consoled - and her only hope. She had hoped against hope as all the little bodies of the black mages winded down to a stop. Even as the last one stood lonely by the graves of his brothers, old back broken in and legs supported by shaky steps and a wooden cane, even in the face of that sight she dreamed that Vivi might be out there.

How could the boy who had faced the Fear of Death itself be dead?

She sat up, a howling, pitiful cry echoing from her throat. Otherwise, she just rocked back and forth, hair flopping uselessly over her, mouth open in a silent cry. Her heart was trembling against it all. She had never really mourned him. She had just blamed and hated him so, so much for leaving. She had spitefully wished he was dead. All those words were swallowed now as she forced his hat into her mouth, biting onto it to quell her tears.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry"[/b] she choked out between her guttering tears, sniffing as she felt her head aching from the trauma. What dark angel has sent this hat to her? Was she supposed to feel blessed, happy even, that Vivi was definitely dead? Was that what this was supposed to mean? No. Death had no meaning. This had no...

"I'msorrysorrysorrysorry," she choked on her breath. She wanted to go home. She wanted to throw herself into her bed and forget this ever happened. She wanted the past to be here and now. She always got what she wanted why couldn't she get this?

When time drew sleepy circles round her eyes and the tears began to melt away into intense swallowing, she finally rose to her legs. The hat remained clutched to her chest as she turned back to the direction of Lindblum.

Maybe she should burn it? Or... Maybe... ?

Phoenix burned across the skies, epic wings shedding feathers of life all over the crumpled hat. Nothing came of it. "You cannot wish for all life to end its cycle. How can I revive that without a soul that has been dead for years? Good riddance to it. That which cannot be recycled upsets the balance."[/b]

She threw away her useless bird, pounding her fists against the hat in sheer frustration and anger. She just wanted him to live. Wanted her little hands back, her little voice back, her little eyes back. It was too late to feel sorry for herself.

She blinked, heart dispelling all hopelessness. Picking up the pieces of her old life, she made her way back to Lindblum. "I'll take you to see Zidane, and Garnet. They're married now, you know. You missed the wedding. It was beautiful, with fireworks and sweets everywhere. You would have loved it. I was jealous. Puck was there with all the rats of Cleyra. I even caught Steiner crying. Don't tell anyone though, I don't think that rust-bucket could handle the damage to his ego,"[/b] she paused, smiling a little. "Your children were there too... They seemed happy."[/b] She swallowed the images of the dead babies.

"I'll take you to see Amarant and Freya, and Quina and Steiner. And then we'll take you to Black Mage village, and give you the biggest grave in the whole graveyard. We'll put you with all your friends and your children, would you like that, Vivi? Then you can finally have a big party. No.288 will be so happy to see you again,"[/b] it was becoming all too much. So many friends with bright button eyes had been lost... "They'll call you a hero, Vivi, because that's what you are."[/b]

The tears were back again, "A hero."[/b][/size]

[Vivi Orunitia]

He was fire in the night. He was sea-foam and salt-breeze. He was a raging tempest and a calm still air. He was rolling green and tumbling stone. And always he was shadows and mist. And when he took his true form, he was a mage-child, no longer a child of mind, but still a child of memory.

And there she was, grown and slender, and beautiful as the soul her body held. Where had the years gone? Where had he been as Eiko grew without him? His child-love was no longer a child, though she clinged to memories of such days.

Where had his Eiko gone? Where was her fire? Her eyes filled with tears now, not defiance, or courage. Fight he found himself willing her, for she belonged to the heat of battle, to the rage of blood and the seering grace of magic. She should have flown on the winds, cutting down enemies. And healling allies. Where had she gone?

Grown, and softly so said a small voice in his mind, he pushed it away, refusing to face such a possibility. He had loved her too much in the rawness of battle to see her meek and broken.

Vivi gazed up as the great firebird circled overhead, from his position down the shore he heard words of dismissal. Were those words for him, oh mother of rebirth? He felt sure they were, but felt no defiance rise up in his gut. What was he trully? He must be a soul, he felt sure, but what was a soul? Was it his conciousness, his heart, his mind? A soul was often refered to as someones humanity, but could humanity be gained by one not human? Made of mist and magic, could the failed prototype of a weapon ever be considered human enough to have a soul.

He was a being made of raw mana, and his own conciousness now. For years he had been contended with the shadows, but now? Now she was before him, awkward and beautiful, and ever his Eiko. His Eiko, with sea-foam eyes filled with tears, was casting away her gaurdian of fire and Vivi couldn't help but give a start of shock. "No!" His lambent eyes sought the bird but it had already flown away in her banishment. "Eiko..." He found himself whispering, praying almost "They are the children of your soul, they are your ediolons. Do not discard them as childish things, I beg you, there is yet darkness in the world that you may need to fight." His voice was carried on the wind, echoing in an ethereal way. He was speaking of dark creatures he had seen, and a dangerouse dance that had yet to be concluded.

And then he saw it, clutched in her dainty fingertips as though it held every hope and dream she had. Tattered and damp, the red sash about its bring torn, his hat. A moment was spend wondering how it had found its way to these shores, when he had been so careful in its storage. Before he felt sick with grief for her, she had been driven to this by him, what had he done? He had lived, and left her behind, and now she clutched to her chest the last piece of him she thought was in existence.

He reached out with his mind, seeking her eidolons with his consciousness, Fenrir, Phoenix, Madeen, Carbuncle, he tugged at them for attention "Help her!" He begged, "You must have a way to ease her pain, I cannot speak to her, cannot touch her, yet still I plague her! You are a part of her, are you not? The children of her soul? Then help her, save her! Lock me away in the depths of her mind, take from her my hat and lead her to happiness I beg you! This greif of hers is undeserved, it is wrong. Let her grow and be happy. Do something"

[Eiko Carol Fabool]

Walking here had not taken long. Through watery eyes though, it seemed as though an epic chasm had ripped apart time and her weary legs seemed able only to walk on one spot. Thoughts rushed back through her aching mind, glorious images and ideas surrounding what she would do with the floppy hat in her hands. Memories gushed back through some ancient hole - lost bits and pieces which she now snatched hold of and refused to let go. It was funny how, at that time when nothing's maw gaped in front of her eyes, the memories that haunted her were not of the epic battles against Necron, not of being swallowed whole by Zu's, not of witnessing the incineration of Terra by the hands of a silky madman. No, the scraps she found herself lamenting over were of the sun on Zidane's face, of the trembling of Dagger's hands as she brushed them softly through her hair, and of the look of awe and happiness as Vivi walked through Black Mage Village. She remembered the taste of meat Quina had cooked from the monsters they had killed, and of the broth and porridge. She found her mind turning to he blaze of the sun as it sank into the sea as their airship fled to Lindblum, and of roots snaring her on the Conde Petie mountain path.

She found words in the vortex of her thoughts, too. Just random phrases and tones spilling out like jumbled up paper notes. She could hear Zidane's voice as clear as day in her head, a resonating feeling of confidence. She could feel Garnet's voice, a soft and mothering one that she could hear tremble in her determination. She could taste the rage of Steiner and Amarant's voices rising high like mad and wild men who pretended to know the path better. Yet all of them had remained consistent in their being. Vivi had changed. She had heard the timidness in the strings of his voice crescendo into a symphony of confidence in the face of death.

Yet all of that was just memories, memories that comforted her.

Yet they upset the guardians who were supposed to protect her. Phoenix's voice filtered through the plane of the dead, a warning issued towards the ghostly figure stalking her, "Spirit, leave her to mourn no more. She will heal with the stitches her own hands bring. We are not gods of memory and we cannot shatter you from her."[/b] Something in her voice implied she wished that was not true.

Fenrir spoke, voice loud and commanding, "Go. Spill out of this plane and show yourself to her. Walk with her and retrace the steps of your final journey. She will fill your footsteps with tears, but they will plug closure in her soul."[/b]

Phoenix screamed in response, "Are you mad, Wind-Wolf of Earth? Such interference would cause her soul to rupture, to tear in two and many pieces. Leave her be, Spirit. She walks alone and binds her tears with memories of you, and so too will both vanish when she burns the hat and throws the ash to the earth." [/b]

The wolf seemed determined, "No! The earth will reject such foreign ash and with it push up her soul, those memories will crack and rupture on her surface and ruin her being!" [/b] [/size]

[Vivi Orunitia]

Oh mother of rebirth, how many times had this young mage been revived by her fire? How many battle had dulled his eyes only to have her share her fire to relight his orbs? Too many times it would seem. Vivi felt the scorch of the phoenix's shrill cries, never had they fallen upon mortal ears but nor was Vivi mortal any longer.

And yet, and yet! Fenrir, wolf-father to his angel sweet Eiko, ever present, ever guarding, Fenrir urged him on. It surprised Vivi, but had he not spoken of a final goodbye the last time the ghost-mage had been beside her? Had he not asked for bones, for his hat, to let her grieve at last. Oh how ungrateful Vivi had been, in those days when he sought only pure white from Eiko, healing innocence, he had paid no mind to her wolf- guardian. But now he saw, Vivi saw what Fenrir truly was, Fenrir was her fire, her will to fight, her resilience. It had not left her, but retreated to its other form, ever present, ever hidden.

Vivi gazed at Eiko, her footing unsteady, almost weak. It pained him to see her like that.

He felt as though he was stood in the middle of two of her guardians, the deciding factor for two of the greatest forces ever known. He had to decide what was right. He could break her, her heart, soul, mind, it was his for the taking. The thought seemed to disarm him, any sureness he felt was gone from him, the thought of harming her winded him. She was his Eiko, his winged rebel, a wild creature put into a pretty dress, what he saw before him was surely a facade of time. He could heal her. No! No, he could not heal, his magic was black, black as the mist that had once embodied him. He was not pure enough to heal her, but perhaps, enough to wake her? To take from her the pain that dulled her senses and blurred her edge. Surely he could wake her, at least?

A decision was reached.

Vivi turned to Fenrir's manifestation.

"I beg of you one more favour in this," he said, bowing his spectre head to the great wind beast, "Guide me, I have been gone to long, Eiko's heart has always been treacherous water, but ten times the world has made its cycle, she had grown without me, how that time has changed her I cannot know."

[Eiko Carol Fabool]

So, the boy could speak again, and chose a path more suited for living. Phoenix vanished to ash on the ethereal plane, displeasure screaming in her wake, but she knew when to leave Fenrir to do as he wished. The wolf seemed to appreciate that, turning his ethereal head towards the spectre, "then let me show you. The days, the months, the years are all the rags of time, rags that I will cloak you with now."[/b]

The world of the living vanished into shades of black, leaving but the wolf and the boy on the floating plane. Then, patchworks of blurred and bloated shapes formed all around them, till finally they cleared to reveal images. "This is her joy,"[/b] the wolf stated. before fireworks singed heavens vault. A vast cry of colours became embroidered on the faces of the people staring skywards. She was there, her hair blowing softly round the giant smile on her face. Clasped in her hands were flowers for the bride. Then, soundlessly, the image morphed to when flowers were held for her own hand by ageing versions of her father and mother year upon year as birthdays past seamlessly together. Her face morphed and thinned, her hair growing longer and requiring every more dye to keep it that shining purple. Countless troops knelt before her and wealth expanded from every tip of her finger. Friends giggled past and away, each one in turn slowly becoming replaced with a different one. Her life had become so interchangeable, yet at the same time, so exciting. Piano music shakily played from her learning hands, and her voice had grown to imitate Garnets from few days and a few singing lessons. Cities turned and grew beneath her feet, buildings she used to visit often growing saggy and old as she grew out of her clothes and habits. Mechanics found its way into her brain as ships churned out into the clear blue skies.

The wolf lowered his head, "And this is her sorrow." A piano lesson gone wrong and the frustration and the anger leaking out on everyone around her till her knuckles were rapped by her mother. The rejections to the dances from boys her heart had been set on, and her lonely eyes downcast at the ball as tall and beautiful figures turned elegantly in the halls and the rejection of flowers from men whom her mother would like her to have her hand set in. The arguments and the spats with friends whose hearts she would never touch again. The hours alone in bed dreaming of an escape from all this, the guilt and the pain of leaving Maidain Sari Grandpa. Then, ultimately, the falling of all the little mage children.

"Those where your children. Those where your gifts to her. They could not last"[/b]

A dark sky spun out above them, and the little huts of black mage village rose up. Little graves for each of them found themselves beneath the shelter of No.288's shadow. Rain pounded down on their little rounded hats, filling up full before they toppled weakly on the ground - but there would always be another mage to tumble along to pick it back up again and straighten it on the wooden cross.

"Are you ready to show yourself to her, mage-child?"[/b] [/size]