Gardenia (ch 2)

Fire ignited, the force causing the floor to rumble and creak. Aerith turned just in time to watch the ground beneath her break. She gasped sharply, gravity tugging her downward. Her eyes shut tightly, preparing for the landing when a strong arm wrapped around her and altered the destination.

“You alright?” A warm, though concerned, voice called.

Aerith stepped down onto firm ground and smiled up at her hero. She certainly hadn’t been expecting Firion, of all people, to swoop in during a battle to rescue her. “Yep! Thanks.” She smiled brightly.

A crackle of electricity coerced through the stagnant air with a haughty, childish cackle. “Oh ho ho ho! How cute! Sorry, but I don’t ship it!” Lightning was unleashed, snapping at the two.

Aerith quickly held up her staff, a golden light flashing just as Thundaga smashed, breaking up the hard cement beneath and around them. The force was strong enough to knock them both back, but no damage was taken. Firion drew in a quick breath, trying to regain the air lost to him. Grasping onto Aerith’s arm, he pulled them to their feet and with a hasty “Stay here” he leapt off the cliff-edge. Both hands on his swords hilt, he swung down with his reddened blade.

The jester side-swept , nearly cartwheeling out of the way. Aerith hurried over to the edge and peered down, watching as Kefka quickly dodged each of Firion’s swings. Swift glances helped her find an opening. Rushing over to another side of the cliff face, she jumped off behind their foe.

Kefka twirled around just as the air shrieked sharply. Pink flashes blinded him and, suddenly, he was frozen. Firion took this opportunity and stepped in. With wild swings, the maniac was sent flying backwards and hit into the wall hard, making an indent in the tile.

That was all he could take. Snarling as he pulled himself back to his feet, Kefka hissed and vanished in a plume of dark energy.

The tension died down. Firion let out a sigh and turned to Aerith, smiling, “Thanks.”
“We’re a team, aren’t we?” Aerith swept her hand over her skirt, then over her right shoulder, dusting off the remains of battle. “What about the others?”

Gold and green eyes turned skyward.

“I don’t hear anything.” Firion spoke quietly.

The brunette tilted her head. “Maybe they moved to a different field?”

“In any case, let’s return.”

Firion was knocked aside, a pained grunt leaving him. Aerith watched, in horror, as her ally fell. Another blast of red scorched between them as she took a step forward.

“Firion!!!” She cried out.

A shriek of laughter penetrated through the smoky air. Aerith turned, her twisted ponytail bouncing around her waist. There he stood. The enemy they thought they had defeated. He was hunched over, his slick blond hair in a disarray and his jester’s make-up running. But despite his disheveled appearance, Kefka grinned. He held out his hands, fingers rolling up and down in a wave. “Awwwwwww so sorry! Did I ruin the moment? I meant to come in sooner but, you know me. I just LOVE dramatic entrances!”

There was no way she could tend to Firion now. Not until Kefka was out of the way. The minute she would turn her back to him, she was sure it would be the end. Gripping her staff tightly, Aerith held it protectively in front of her, her brows furrowed as a rush of anger and desperation flashed over her pretty face.

Lightning crackled between the mad man’s fingers and then, in an instant, a chain of electricity was unleashed. Aerith kicked off the ground, rushing forward. With a swing, she attracted the lightning to her staff, the yellow sparks drawn up into her body. Hand thrust out, the lightning threw itself back at the sender.

Kefka danced to the side, avoiding his own attack. “Oh ho!” But he wasn’t ready for her staff knocking against his face.

He stumbled back, spun, and slashed at her with a hidden knife. The blade was coiled in fire. Aerith was not able to dodge. The searing pain rolled inside her. With a pained cry, she fell back, holding her hand to the fresh wound oozing crimson. Tears in her eyes, she started to scoot backwards. Kefka merely snickered. He crept towards her, pale blues fogged by insanity.

“Does it hurt?” He whined in a pathetic tone. “Did I hurt the pretty flower girl?”

“S-Stay away!” Aerith, with her free hand, jabbed the staff forward, catapulting a block of ice.

Kefka could only laugh as the weak spell broke in blue pieces upon impact. “That all you got, girly?”

A circle of light with intricate runes quickly wrote in the air beneath the jester. It had been so quick, Kefka hadn’t been able to react properly. Caught in tendrils of lightning, he howled.

Eyes wide, Aerith stared, the light reflecting perfectly upon the emerald surface. Heels clicked against the hard violet ground. A sway of gold caught in her peripheral and in a brief second claimed all of her gaze.

“Really, Kefka. I would’ve thought you wise enough to leave what belongs to me alone.” Emperor Mateus stood, his chin held high with an air of disapproval.

“Mateus!” Kefka snarled, turning just a little in his electric prison. “What-“

“Suffer.” Violet eyes narrowed, a graceful hand rose, his staff held horizontally above his head. Letting it go, it floated, starting to twirl mid-air. White lightning wrote runes beneath him in a flash of magenta and purple. The air gained weight, crackling with energy. His cape flapped behind him, hair billowing in all directions.

Red lightning cracked like a whip, surging above him in a blaze of hell. Kefka screamed as fire rained down from the sky, burning everything in its path. He was caught in a burning, massive star. Screaming, the surface surged like lava. In one swift threat, millions of tiny volcanoes exploded. Wind whipped past the flower girl. She held her hand up, eyes pinched shut to protect them from the hot soot.

Heaving breaths, Aerith looked up. There he stood, untouched by the fire as cinders drifted by him. He gazed to the heavens, majestic in even a stoic expression. Blinking slowly, he looked to where Kefka once was, the painted man’s body nowhere to be seen. A glance was spared for the fainted Firion, surprisingly lacking singes. Then, he looked to her. All at once, his harsh exterior lessened, his jaw relaxed. He held her gaze, and even still as he looked down to her cradled stomach, unaffected by the scarlet seeping round her pale hand.

Light steps carried him to her side. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her from the battle field. Aerith’s breath hitched in her throat, causing a hiccupped gasp. “Mateus…” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “…How…?”

“Quiet.” Mateus didn’t look to her, his eyes glued to the path. “You’ve no strength.”

Finally re-realizing her wound, Aerith rested her head to his chest, lids heavy and closed without resistance. It wasn’t long before she fell fast asleep, weary from the battle and strangely relaxed in his grasp.