Author's notes: Actually, this was an idea that had been floating around in my head for a while and wasn't about anyone in particular. It just happened to land on Cid because I was writing challenges and it suited him well enough. Done for thesandsea FFXII fanfic community on livejournal with the themes of 37. Belief, 68. Build, 72. Time, 80. Cause, and the challenge of using the word of the day:
deracinate \dee-RAS-uh-nayt\, transitive verb:
pluck up by the roots; to uproot.
2. To displace from one's native or accustomed environment.
Disclaimer: FFXII and its ideas do not belong to me.
The Beauty of Change
Cid had always thought there was something beautiful about impermanence. Foundations were laid, achievements were built, a high point was reached, the pinnacle forgotten, and the ruins worn away by the sands of time. Such was the course of history. There was something intrinsically right about ruin. It showed that things were not meant to stay as they were, that they were to grow and become, and in the end be discarded so that something else may grow in their place.
He never thought about words like forever and eternity. They were silly things. Nothing but the wishful thoughts of a people who could not accept change. There was no such thing as forever. Nothing was permanent. Even the ground on which he stood had once sat elsewhere and by the forces of wind and water would sit elsewhere still in time.
He was far from a believer in fate. Entropy, perhaps. It was not the hand of some intangible being that caused the changes he so enjoyed to observe and study. It was time and the works of people who built the new and ripped down the old. It was those thoroughly tangible things that created masterworks and the later ruins thereof. Life was a testament to change. Motion. Beauty. He thought it impossible for any chance occurrence to deracinate him from this viewpoint, even to the slightest extent.
The first time he had met the woman who was later to become his wife, it was in ruins. She too was conducting research at the time. He recalled that they had indulged in a long conversation about the composition of rocks in the area. Funny the things that spark one's interest.
He also remembered the first time their lips had touched. It was the first time he had ever truly contemplated the idea of "forever."