Final Fantasy VII Crisis From The Sky Part Two: Story Time With Tim

Greetings and salutations, faithful reader! Welcome back to another Story Time With Tim! I’m Timothy Scott Purvis and you are reading the second part of FFVII Crisis From The Sky, a fanfiction novella I wrote in the mid 2000’s. It’s fairly long at roughly eighteen thousand words give or take a few hundred and is all about the past. I delved into the legacy of the Cetra in the tale and I think it turned out pretty alright. It isn’t the greatest, of course. And drags a little here and there. Yet, it has a lot of good visuals and ideas that I still like. And I hope you like them too.

Anyhow, I never have a whole lot to say about these stories and prefer to let them speak for themselves. I do occasionally write fanfiction which are original tales involving known properties. Such as my Mass Effect 3 ReImagined novel I wrote for my wife back in 2013 due to our mutual disdain for the ending of said game. It’s a long book and I think I’m going to sling it up on here for my Story Time With Tim moving forward so that that story can be read in all its glory!

But, that’s neither here nor there. So, stay tuned for more information on that.

If you’re looking to keep track of all that has come before, why not read the prior chapter? Just click the link below and go check it out:

Final Fantasy VII: Crisis From the Sky Part One

And now, without further adieu, part two of Final Fantasy VII Crisis From the Sky!

* * * * *

Rhythmic chantings reverberated off of the trunks of a legion of pines within the quarter mile of forestry surrounding the newly formed crater in the Northern Boundaries. Hundreds of tribal Cetra sat upon the frozen ground with their eyes closed deep in a healing trance. Their lifeforces created salve for the wound pulsing deep into the earthen clay. The Cetra could feel the cries of a world in pain. Those cries echoed throughout fresh caves far below the billowing mists covering the immediate interior of the crater.

  The shadowy creature sensed the Cetra tribes gathering around the crater and felt the power of their lifeforces pulsating outward into the air. Those lifeforces were a tangible sheet across its flesh and it hungered.

  Voices nearby its position beneath a copse of pines echoed within its ears. The new dawn was breaking yet was stilled by thick cumulus, saturated with the vapors of a coming storm. It flowed towards the voices, desiring the knowledge those voices held.

  “…They are coming. I heard it from the Elders. The Grand Council must respond…” one voice was saying.

  “They’ve become a bunch of lazy cowards. They ignore the planet until it is too late. Now they come? The Council is weak…” the other answered and walked away angrily.

  “…You shouldn’t be so angry, Enson,” a woman spoke in response to his words.

  He merely waved her off and continued through the woods to find his brothers. The young woman watched him go and turned back to her camp. It watched him too. The shadowy It remembered his name. Enson. And, the shadow memorized his features. His long, platinum blonde hair trailing down his back to his waist. He wore a brown hide tunic and leggings and wore shoes of the same material. This was a member of the tribes and It wanted to use him to its advantage.

  “There is no way the Council can do anything. Living in their lap of luxury. Dining on their fancy suppers and happy in their simple ways. What work have they done?” the young man gestured angrily to no one.

  The shadow smiled a secret smile for it had no lips. With an invisible tongue it tasted his jealousy and his tremendous lifeforce. The wildlife went silent and the young man turned, looking around the dimly lit woodland. The sun’s light filtered through the dark cloud-lines minutely and illuminated his light toned flesh, revealing his puzzled expression.

  “Hello?” he queried into the early morning air.

  The shadow came up behind him. The young man turned and stared at the thing coming for him. A shadow engulfed him and he tried to scream. However, silence thundered through the forest.

Faint chanting came on the wind as the form of the young man lay upon the snow. Slowly, he rose and smiled to himself. It was now Enson. And, Enson had work to do. The power was too fierce to consume in this state. A little bit of deception was in order. Enson walked back towards his camp. He knew instinctively where it lay. Whiffs of snow blew across the forest floor covering Enson’s tracks as he walked.

* * * * *

Fine flakes of snow formed a thick curtain in the gushing wind. The frozen vapor blew horizontally across the forest floor, miring the progression of the Choboa, and their riders, through the woodlands towards the impact site. Members of the Cetra Council covered their heads with the hoods of thick cloaks. Many blocked the fierce wind-blown snow with the sleeves of their robes.

  Not far behind the Choboa procession, were the members forced to walk through the thick, wintery accumulation. There were no complaints as they walked onward. The edge of the crater was not far ahead of them.

  It felt like the journey had taken weeks to Cierra as she and her husband sat upon their Choboa, trying to make out the distant shapes of Cetra camps through the blizzard. In fact, the journey had been but three days. She didn’t waste any energy speaking her disdain of plodding through the winter-scape. A grimace of misery crossed the features of her face. Her husband, Sion, wasn’t enjoying the journey anymore than she was.

  The procession stopped. Cierra uncovered her face and tried to look around. She held up her held to shield some of the wind. She mostly saw white, but the group had definitely exited the forest and were upon the perimeter of the northern expanse of the great Boundaries. The edge of the impact laid mere meters from their positions.

  A slight murmur ran through the Cetra members and it was apparent that camp was being made. Cierra and Sion dismounted their Choboa, ostrich sized flightless birds, and began to set up their equipment. Within a few hours, they had their Choboa covered under a massive tarp attached to their oval tent and heat delivering devices were turned on.

  “The meeting should be taking place, let’s go,” Sion spoke to Cierra and they exited their tent.

* * * * *

“We should begin the meditations immediately,” a concerned member of the council said from his position to the rear of the massive council shelter.

  The enclosure was the size of a carnival tent, except it was a complete dome, and spanned over a good portion of the clearing just beyond the forest edge. Several hundred Cetra listened intently to the debate waging amongst the Elder members of the Council.

  “The blizzard is too fierce, we should wait til the morn,” another responded drawing praise from others gathered within.

  “Tiamus needs us. We must act immediately. The other tribes are out there now giving their lifeforces to the planet. We need to join them, storm or no. Hesitation could mark our deaths,” a woman of the Grand Council spoke, walking forward.

  Cheers and jeers erupted throughout the tent. Cierra took the scene in from her place in the back of the tent. Small, fist sized heaters lined the tent walls sending a slight orange glow onto the gathered Cetra. A howling wind was hammering the side of the tent causing the heater-lanterns to bounce their light across the assembly. The light didn’t dim the dark green robes of the woman who spoke at the center of the meeting. The Supreme Chancellor sat in a seat and smoothed out his ruffled and gray robes. He raised his hands, trying to bring order to the assembly.

  “Councilor Eanon’s words ring truth. We must not spare anymore time. The wound is gaping and Mother Tiamus screams in pain,” the old man spoke to an intermittent silence.

  “Bah! I did not spend all night traveling, just to sit in the snow and chant in the middle of a blizzard! Let the savages do as they will. Tomorrow, if the weather permits, will be better suited for delivering our energies,” a tall Councilman replied harshly.

  “Stay your tongue, Edrick. The Supreme Chancellor has spoken and we ALL are required to lend our energies tonight. Grab your thickest furs, it’s going to be a long night!” the Viceroy responded ending the tirade.

  “Is this wise…” another Councilor, a statesman from the business sect, began.

  “They have us packed in here like a bottled selection of Fastitocalons. I’m going to get some air,” Cierra whispered to Sion.

  He nodded as she turned to leave the cramped confines. The Cetra stood nearly shoulder to shoulder as Cierra pardoned her way through to the exit and breathed a sigh of relief as the cold winter chill struck her cheek.

  Cierra closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. The wind had died down to some extent. She gently rubbed her stomach through the heavy clothing she wore, furs made from the hide of a great, northern Cuahl. Soon, the Council would be joining the itinerant Cetra tribes in healing the wound of Tiamus. She only hoped that the effort wouldn’t harm the child she carried within. A fact she’d been meaning to tell Sion upon the terrace when the thing from the sky had fallen.

  She exhaled and felt that she could reserve enough energy to assist in getting the job done and returning home in one piece. A moment of fear jolted Cierra from her solitude. Her eyes opened and she gazed around the silent woodland. It had suddenly gotten too quiet, save for the annoying bickering emanating from within the tent.

  Cierra could only perceive the deep shadows clinging unto the forest interior like a small child to its parent. Within those shadows, lurked an uncertainty. It was beyond her range of senses, yet lingered just at the edge of her perceptions.

A whiff of breath blew in the stilling breeze and now calmly falling snow. Now that she thought about things, the weather was a bit colder than was usual for the season. This even for the Northern Boundaries and the constant snow that linger within them. Her gaze shifted to the massive dark spot covered by an eternal mist marking the gaping wound of Tiamus. She shivered not because of the cold, but because of that something clawing at her senses.

* * * * *

“How many tribes are there anyway?” Enson inquired from his seated position next to his brother.

  They had been chanting for most of the night and day, Enson feigned his involvement knowing full well that he wasn’t offering any lifeforce to a wound he caused. Whether it was intentional or not, was beside the point. Power is what drove the possessed Enson now. He had ceased being a Cetra the second the shadow had devoured his soul and infected him with death.

  “Come on, brother, you know the answer to that. Seventeen tribes wander the Northern Boundaries, planting pines and healing the planet. Just like we’re doing. What’s with you lately? You’ve been acting weird for days,” the brother spoke to the smiling, closed eyed Enson.

  They held their hands to their sides in the meditative gesture of focus. Enson had learned much these past four days and was eager to learn more. He had discovered that these Cetra creatures were mostly an itinerant race that went around settling the land and making it habitable for the birth of life. Simplistic and archaic to Enson. He never cared for the bringing forth of life. Not when the act of power and absolute chaos was so much more enjoyable.

  Enson would need assistance, though, in his endeavors. He and his brother sat alone in the snow only a short distance from camp. The Cetra had been chanting in shifts and soon their shift would be up. They would rise up and enter the camp grounds and warm within the slumber facilities of the small skin tents. The time to move had come.

  The heavy furs around Enson’s person fluttered in the slight breeze as a creeping shadow slowly eked its way from beneath his seated position. He sat still and let his eye open a slit. Enson watched his brother’s face; saw his closed eyes. The shadow merged with the rippling snow and snaked towards the brother. Coiling around his form, the shadow struck Enson’s brother in the back and tore around into his face. The brother struggled violently and spasmed upon the snowy ground. He raised his hands to his face as the shadow entered his nose and his mouth. Screams died in silence.

  Enson watched his brother’s form go lifeless and jumped up to sit on top of him. He placed his hands to either side of his face, sinking into the snow. Fear and individuality dissipated into the cold night as Enson placed his face near his brother’s and looked into his darkening eyes.

  “Our time, is now. You and I are one and together we will be invincible. Few must know for the time being,” Enson spoke as snowflakes fluttered past his sinister gaze. “We will build our army. Our weakness… is only temporary. Once we’ve finished this pathetic little venture of futility, we will strike at the core of this… Cetra. How does that sound… brother?”

  The brother stared vacantly at Enson, and his eyes turned black under the shadow’s influence. Soon, though, a smile crossed his face and Enson knew, he was getting stronger.

* * * * *

Deep clouds slightly parted for the shining sun beyond their depths. Yet, this barely illuminated the massive wound or the thousands of Cetra gathered around the fringes of the crater. Chanting echoed deep into the crater’s recesses as invisible lifeforces surged into the fissure.

  Cierra could feel the combined energies of all the Cetra as they lent their lifeforces to Mother Tiamus. She continued to chant, ignoring the chill of the long winter. It felt like they’d been there for ages. It was tiring work, allowing once life to drain forth and be given unto another. The planet was massive and the Cetra were so few. Yet, every little bit of lifeforce energy helped heal the pain of the world.

  Life was birthing around the world and Cierra smiled, knowing that what they were doing was helping. The natural flow of life, didn’t remain hindered as it had been for days after the initial impact. Now, weeks later, the planet was drawing enough energy to recontribute to the flow of the lifeforce.

  She opened her eyes and viewed the clearing crater. A dense fog still hung over its interior, but daylight was beginning to filter through the clouds. She whispered a secret prayer and continued chanting. Soon, the Cetra would be returning to the holy city of Collust. She was eager to go, though she enjoyed these peaceful moments. She enjoyed being one with the lifeforce, having forgotten how good it felt.

  A tiny kick distracted Cierra, and she realized her child was enjoying the connection as well. She looked over at her husband, who had his eyes closed and was deep in meditation. She couldn’t help but to smile in a manner that she hadn’t done since the age of seven. Too long, she thought, too long.

  Tents started to come down and she knew, the Cetra Council was preparing to return home. She felt her smile wane, but she was part of this lifeforce again and would make sure to remain that way. Cierra smirked to herself in deep resolve, and then nudged Sion from his trance.

  “Looks like we’re leaving,” she said to Sion.

He opened his eyes and looked about. Reluctantly, he nodded and stood. He helped Cierra to her feet, not because she had informed him of her pregnancy, but because her joints had become stiff with the winter winds. Being one with nature had its tolls.

* * * * *

Thousands of Cetra tribesmen walked away from the crater, feeling that they had done all that they could. Enson stopped upon an embankment and looked outward at the traveling Cetra. Where they would go, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like they had homes. They carried hide-tents with them everywhere. He supposed they were returning to the warmer southern regions of the Northern Boundaries. That posed no difference to him. The warmer it was, the easier to spread the virus.

  Enson looked at the white tops of a thousand miles of forestry and then gazed upon the thirteen individuals he’d already infected. Several would die, he knew, but the others would be formidable warriors in his new war.

  Stomping through the snow mound, Enson led the way in the direction of the main tribes of the Cetra wanderers. The Council he would tackle when he had adequate minions. Until then, however, the uncivilized, as they were, would have to suffice.

Here we are, the end of another week of Story Time With Tim! Awesome job getting to the end of this post! I hope you’ll come back next week for the next part. I know it’s a story I’ve always got something out of. Anyhow, thanks for reading and read to you again soon!

~Timothy S Purvis

Since you’re here, why not head on over to my author’s page and check out some of my other word? Reasonably priced AND fun to read? Yes, sir, you know it. Just click on my name and the link will take you straight there–> Timothy S Purvis

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