Desert Garden

A fanfic. by pixeled

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I'm up in the clouds

I'm up in the clouds

And I can't and I can't come down

I can watch and not take part

Where I end and where you start

Where you, you left me alone

You left me alone

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Part Nineteen

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Eyes the color of sky blinked wetly. A mind weakly protested the light. All at once flashes of sky, the feathers of a white and black wing melding together, the clinical lights of scientists, and pupils went to pinpricks as mako flooded through veins. The walls, the stone walls, seemed to breathe, to shift, and the eerie silence became replaced by the sounds of waves.

Zack became aware of standing in the middle of a stark white hall, became aware that his eyes hurt, and that it hurt even more to look into the distance. At first, the roiling and twisting he could see in the far distance could be mistaken for Lifestream, but as the sound became nearly deafening in his ears, he realized that water was rushing for him, and that he had his back to a wall—that he was sealed, and as the water rushed at him with a crashing force, his eyes closed and he let the waves take him.

In his ears he could still hear the waves crashing, but the sound was quickly being drowned out by the sound of . . . flames? Zack had felt a strange sense of peace as the waves had crashed, as if everything had been cleansed, everything had been wiped out. But now as he opened his eyes he could see fire everywhere, licking at Nibelheim, licking at Banora. The rich purple of Banora Whites slowly turned black and charred just as Cloud's mother's face, so beautiful and sad, became nothing more than hollowed out blackness. In his ears the roar of fire became the screams of civilians, and eventually he could see Genesis's parents, hands linked, withering to blackened bones, their screams still echoing even as Zack stumbled and fell before a shimmering green pool. There was so much pressure in his ears that he choked out. He hadn't realized that he'd closed his eyes again until he opened them and saw the pool, the vast stone opening that dripped with liquid life force.

Something told Zack, as he looked down at his hands and slowly rose to his feet, that he could not trust his senses anymore. The strange pressure led him deeper and deeper through the maze of stone, and he felt heavy, his breath labored. There was a ringing in his ears that made him cry out, and just when his ears popped he began to hear it again, the strange crying mixed with laughter.

"Genesis!" he cried out, nearly stumbling again. His own voice echoed back to him, but the crying laughter only got louder. He felt weak, not at all like a hero, but he was here because of Angeal, because his mentor had wanted—and needed—to save his childhood friend. He continued to yell Genesis's name as he passed more radiant pools, and just as he thought he would receive no answer, the crying laughter stopped altogether.

"Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul. Pride is lost. Wings stripped away . . . the . . . the end . . . is nigh." Genesis's voice, slow and sad, filled with tears. From far away Zack could hear the beginning of the song Sephiroth had been listening to in his office that fateful day when he had decided to take the mission to Nibelheim. Zack shook his head and boldly called out to the disembodied voice.

"Genesis! Why did you kill your parents?"

The song continued to play even as the pressure in Zack's head increased, and this time it knocked him right off his feet with a force that made everything white and hot. When he opened his eyes once more he could see a flash of Genesis's face, and as a young child, he sat surrounded by books and tall bookshelves, staring out of long windows that, with ornate designs and tinted colors, reflected only shadows. There was the tide of voices yelling all around Genesis, the pile of books only growing larger, so that they buried him, crushed him.

Genesis's mother's face, cold and distant, reflected in the windows.

Genesis's father, absent, his face a mere splash among shadows.

Little monster! Little demon! I'll tell you what you are—you're not my son at all. Watch your tongue, or I'll send you away.

Genesis, lying in the apple orchard, his fingers spread, staring up at the sky. Angeal, kneeling at his side, shaking him, his words unknown. But they brought a small sad smile to Genesis's lips.

It all faded to black and Zack slowly began to sit up, realizing that he was now in a small cave opening with a high ceiling and that Genesis was kneeling just a few feet from him, hands clasped as he stared up at a statue with a benevolent woman's face, the soft glow of almost liquid light emanating from a crystal the stony hands clasped.

"They were blissfully ignorant, both of them," he whispered, his back to Zack. He wasn't sure whom he meant, not until he elaborated. "Angeal, he strove to lift everybody's burdens . . . but he couldn't lift mine. Sephiroth . . . so sheltered from everything . . . how sad they both were. But their sadness was not my sadness."

"Genesis," Zack whispered, slowly lifting himself onto his elbows.

"My soul, corrupted by vengeance," Genesis said softly, apologetically, "hath endured torment . . . to find the end of the journey . . . in my own salvation." When he turned to Zack, the younger man could see that Genesis looked weary, almost a part of the stone walls themselves. He was almost colorless, cold like stone, but there were still tears glistening on his stony cheeks. But as Zack approached, the softness that had creeped into his eyes hardened like the stone of his cheeks.

"You're late," Genesis stated.

"Loveless again?" Zack asked calmly, standing and walking toward him.

"The goddess . . . I had never heard her calling to me . . . she had never given me signs that my loyalty was appreciated . . . but Angeal . . . you . . .have succeeded Angeal's spirit," Genesis said, hurt in his eyes, "and carry a part of Sephiroth within you." The 'S' cells. Zack's eyes shifted away, feeling that something was about to snap within Genesis. But his voice was so calm now, so eerily calm. "Thus, the three friends are reunited once again. "This," Genesis continued, his hand sweeping toward Zack, "is my answer. The goddess has recognized me after all. Loveless," he nearly sobbed, the eerie calm breaking, "is reenacted."

Zack shook his head, and for the first time he truly pitied Genesis. Like Sephiroth, he was merely misguided.

"No!" he cried out. It was so obvious. "open your eyes, Genesis!" He had taken a defensive stance, feeling the hurt and confusion mixed with anger inside Genesis. He thought he could get through, but the stone wall was too great between them.

"When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end," Genesis said silkily, hand to his heart. Just as he drew a breath to continue, Zack spoke up.

"I-I've come here to help you . . ." But his words fell on deaf ears.

"The goddess descends from the skies. Wings of light and dark spread afar. She guides us to bliss . . . her gift everlasting . . ." And as he turned to face Zack, Genesis lifted his hand and with fingers outstretched, the crystal began to glow brighter.

"What is that?" Zack cried, alarmed. Genesis merely narrowed his eyes at Zack.

"The Gift of the Goddess . . . a heavenly boon found only in Banora." Now this was the gift? Zack just didn't get what was going on here. First the strange mind tricks, now this . . .

"I thought the cells were the gift!" Zack cried in frustration. Genesis shook his head and laughed as if he were speaking to a very small child.

"There are various interpretations," he explained. Zack's brows furrowed. He was trying so hard to understand what Genesis wanted, what he needed from him to be saved, but his head and his heart were hurting.

"I don't understand . . ."

"To ponder the mystery is in itself a gift," he whispered in response. It occurred briefly to Zack that this is a sentence that Genesis must have repeated to himself constantly as he grew up worshiping a goddess who did not answer his prayers; that merely to worship her and pray to her was a gift in itself. Surely it had helped him, or he would not have continued to pray to her, to worship her, and to seek meaning in his life from these words.

"We will all join the Lifestream," Genesis said softly, and as he took in a breath, he looked at Zack pointedly. "You . . . are no exception." As Zack looked around, the shining pools he had seen before, the crashing waves he had heard, and the rippling fires all came together to form the vision of the Lifestream leaking from the crystal. "The planet," Genesis whispered, "has become my guardian. The goddess . . . has finally answered my prayers." And as Genesis unfurled his black wing and channeled the energy from the crystal Zack slowly watched as Genesis's eyes flashed with a power too great to harness. He thought the goddess was accepting him, making him a part of something greater, a part of his destiny gleaned from Loveless, but Zack, though knowing little of what was truly going on, could clearly see that Genesis was dying.

"Keep talking to me," Zack cried, trying to bring Genesis out of it, out of the seductive call of the Lifestream, "Don't let it take over! You're not a monster! You're one of us."

You little monster . . . you're no good. I've never loved you. You were never my child.

Genesis, as power sang through him and life coursed away, felt his eyes well up with tears. The power drained out of him, he collapsed, resting on his sword.

"My soul," he whispered weakly, "corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment," and his voice sobbed over the word torment, "to find the end of the journey . . . in my own salvation . . . And your eternal slumber." When the light of the crystal rotted away, Zack could see that the stony white and gray had been replaced with Genesis's former self, but he was so weak now he could barely hold himself up. This was, however, not what Zack noticed the most. For the first time the words resonated in him, and he narrowed his eyes.

"Does this mean . . . you knew? From the beginning?"

Genesis, as a little boy, had known he would grow up to truly become a monster. His mother had told him everything carelessly, her heart bitter. Genesis's parents had had a loveless marriage, their son, a loveless life. The only friends he would ever know . . . had been monsters as well, and he knew, from the beginning, that they would be taken away from him.

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So here's my own little interpretation and my own little projection, based off Genesis's puzzles. Instead I wanted to do a labyrinth of the mind type of deal. Let me know what you think.