sinnatious

Title: Spurious Serpent

Summary: Sequel to Fallacious Deity. With both Chaos and Cosmos dead, the surviving warriors try to find a way home.

Author's Note: This includes a slightly edited excerpt from an old gift prompt fill. Was originally going to break this into two chapters, but if I’m going to post trash I might as well post lots of it?

Can't wait for new Dissidia game to come out and make this extra-outdated.

Chapter 1

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Chapter 2
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“Cloud! Hey, Cloud!” Onion Knight came running up behind him, pattering through the snow on light, quick steps.

Cloud stopped and waited for the short knight to catch up. It was only then he realised how far behind the others had fallen – Tidus and Terra in particular struggling in the cold. Even Cecil was lagging a good twenty steps back.

Once he was in easy speaking distance, the young knight dropped his voice. “Do you think we could stop and camp for a while? Terra’s getting tired.”

Judging by the slight tremble in his legs and the way he kept rubbing his hands, Terra wasn’t the only one in need of a break. “Sure,” Cloud said. “I can see a gateway just ahead. You tell the others, I’ll get a fire started.”

With visible relief, Onion Knight scampered back the way he came to pass the word on, earning a cheer from Tidus as he went.

Cloud eyed the sky with a sigh. It didn’t matter so much when he’d been travelling alone – he would just keep walking until exhaustion claimed him, which with mako enhancements, could take quite some time. He needed to remember to be more vigilant of his companions, who might be strong in their own rights, but were still human. There was no day and night cycle in this world to keep track of such basic needs for him.

By the time the rest of the group tromped into the gateway, covered in a fine dusting of snow, he had a small blaze going. They’d been lucky – the gateway led to a dusky sliver of forest, with a castle visible in the distance, and was thankfully free of manikins. They might have been in for a less comfortable layover if they’d wound up on top of an airship, or even worse, the crumbling centre of the Planet.

“All right!” Tidus cheered at the sight of the fire, rushing to warm his hands. Terra followed at a more sedate pace, but sank to her knees next to it just as gratefully.

Cloud moved back to give them room – he didn’t need it, and the gateway was warm enough, especially compared to the Elven Snowfields.

Onion Knight hovered near the fire, but not too close to it, lest anyone think him less tough for it. Cloud found himself surprised to be hiding a grin. He’d been like that once too, but back then he couldn’t fight like the kid did, either.

Cecil settled down next to Cloud – the cold had turned his milky white skin even paler, but it was hard to tell how he fared when his lips always held that faint blue tinge. He kept an eye on the subdued Paladin, though, and was relieved to see a faint flush rise on his cheeks after a while.

Tidus was chattering to Terra by the fire, so Onion Knight soon shifted closer to him and Cecil. “The cold doesn’t seem to bother you,” he commented, failing to hide the note of jealousy in his voice.

Cloud gave a half-shrug. “I was born in the mountains. Walking cross-country in the snow isn’t such a big deal after a while.”

“Me too! But I guess the Sasune region doesn’t get a lot of snow.” Onion Knight blinked at that.

“You remembered something new?” Cecil asked curiously.

“Yeah! I wish there was more, though.” He crossed his arms behind his head and leant back, looking up through the leafy canopy to the sky beyond. “They’re like all these separate puzzle pieces, and some of them make sense on their own, but I still can’t see where they fit into the whole picture.”

“It’ll be like that for a while,” Cloud murmured. “Once you recall enough, though, it starts getting about details, and it’s not so strange then.”

"I've remembered more as well, but it seems so little," Cecil admitted. "How long did it take you? You said it would be years, just to recognise the cycle…"

Cloud’s gaze turned dark, directed inward. "Something like that. And some of it, well... some of it no amount of time will get back."

Alarm flashed across the Paladin's features. "You mean-?"

"Sorry," Cloud interrupted. "Not what I meant. I lost them before, is all. Being summoned to this world... didn't make a difference, there."

They fell into an awkward silence. There had been an unspoken agreement between the survivors not to ask about their lives before. It would come up in conversation sometimes, and occasionally someone would volunteer a bit of history, especially if it were a new memory recently regained, but it ended there. It was out of respect, largely, for those who hadn’t gained as much back – Terra in particular, but before he left them Cloud had started to suspect that Squall had fewer memories to regain overall. Or maybe he just played them all much closer to his chest.

"Memories are precious, aren't they?" Cecil murmured. "But we don't realise how precious, until they're taken away." He dropped back into a moody silence.

The three of them sat quiet for several minutes, watching the crackling flames and listening to Tidus’s easy chatter and Terra’s shy interjections. Squall’s absence felt strangely stark, even if Cloud were rather sure he would have spent the whole time with his arms crossed in the corner, not talking to anybody.

“Why do you suppose no one has been revived this cycle?” Onion Knight suddenly wondered aloud.

That caught the group’s attention, everyone’s eyes shifting to him. “What do you mean?” Terra prompted curiously.

“Well, we saw ShinRyuu, right? If what Cloud said about the cycles is true, at least some of the warriors who fell should have been revived.” He’d obviously been chewing on this thought for a few days. “I’m not entirely sure how the rebirth process works, but it’s a little odd, isn’t it?”

Their gazes swivelled towards Cloud. For his part, he admitted, “There have been cycles where Cosmos or Chaos have waned, but this is the first time I can remember that either of them have fallen. I only have guesses. Hopefully the Mured Moogle will know more.”

An awkward silence began to descend once again, the inevitable curtain on the end of the conversation.

Then Tidus piped up, “Hey, you know, it’s a big place! Maybe some of them did revive, and we simply haven’t come across them yet?” He patted Onion Knight on the head, tousling his helmet feathers.

Onion Knight batted the hand away. “Stop that! I’m not a kid!”

Tidus held up his hands with a laugh and grin. “Sorry! You’re just such a squirt.”

Onion Knight just huffed, evidently deciding his pride was better served by ignoring him. “I guess it’s possible, but wouldn’t we have seen someone by now? We’ve been wandering around the Southern Islands for weeks.”

“Maybe they’re on the Northern Islands?” Cecil offered.

The contribution was unexpected, and Cloud found himself studying the paladin closer. Lately he’d been mostly hiding in his dark armour, but now that he wasn’t, the naked hope in his eyes was obvious.

Golbez. It had to be for Golbez.

“I doubt it,” Cloud murmured. “Most of those affiliated with Cosmos who lost were reborn last cycle. Those of Chaos weren’t as lucky.”

“What about my old man?” Tidus challenged.

Cloud shrugged. “He used to be on Harmony’s side. Maybe that was enough. But Kuja wasn’t revived, and there was no reason for him not to be. He wasn’t that spent.” The growing desolation on Cecil’s face was obvious, and he hastily amended, “…But like I said, I only have guesses. Anything is possible at this point.”

Shiva, he was bad at this. He’d been alone for so long he’d forgotten how to deal with people.

For his part, Cecil just nodded quietly. It had ignited a strange light in his eyes though – one Cloud didn’t know what to make of. So he simply busied himself feeding kindling into the flagging fire.

They sat that way for several minutes, until Onion Knight once more broke the silence with, “Hey Cloud… I just wanted to say, you know, about before… Don’t take what Squall said personally.”

“Huh?”

“You know. About not trusting you. I know you’re on our side and wouldn’t hurt us. I mean, you’re a little scary," he admitted. "You killed both Chaos and Cosmos after all."

Cloud hunched his shoulders. "Anyone here could have done it. I was just the first one who tried."

"That you tried at all says a lot," Terra remarked quietly. "It wasn't anything any of us even thought about. We were so focused on defeating the enemies in front of us, we lost sight of our goals."

"It wasn't our fault," Onion Knight retorted fervently. "We couldn't remember. How could we have known how pointless it was if it was always the first time?"

Still, it was nice to think they cared enough to reassure him. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter if you trust me or not at this point.”

Onion Knight crossed his arms. “But we’re comrades now, right? And comrades have to trust each other. That’s how we won so many battles back on my home world.” He blinked again, looking faintly distraught at the recollection. Homesickness, maybe. Another memory, Cloud guessed.

“Yeah,” was his only reply.

Comrades. Huh. After so many cycles, that was going to take some getting used to.

…………….

Onion Knight blinked awake to the gentle rustling of tree leaves in the breeze. It was still dusk, and for one strange moment he panicked, certain he’d slept the day away.

As he came back to his senses, the moment passed, as always. Even in the gateways time didn’t flow normally.

The forest was as eerily silent as the snowfields had been, and a glance around showed the fire had died at some point, leaving only coal and ashes. Had he woken early?

Something was missing.

The sensation of wrongness had him sitting up, reaching for his short sword, eyes scanning the clearing more carefully.

No, not something,

Someone.

“Cecil?” Onion Knight ventured. Cloud stirred, sitting up at the sound of his voice.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, brushing the grass from his clothes.

“Isn’t Cecil supposed to be on watch?” he asked, standing now. There was no sign of the paladin. He scooted to the edge of the clearing, peering into trees beyond. Had he gone to investigate something? Toilet break?

The sense of foreboding settling upon his shoulders suggested otherwise.

Cloud joined him. “I’ll go investigate. You wake the others, just in case.” He ventured into the dark forest.

It was a small matter to rouse Terra and Tidus – it was near the time they would have awoken anyhow. Tidus was stretching and yawning when Cloud made his way back to the clearing.

“See anything?” Onion Knight asked.

“No sign,” Cloud said. “Except for what might be some tracks, leading out the way we came in.”

Onion Knight whirled on the rest of their party, that sickening feeling solidifying in his gut. “Did anyone see or hear anything?”

They all shook their heads. “I was second last watch,” Tidus volunteered. “But nothing seemed strange when I woke him for it.”

“…He was insistent he take the last watch,” Cloud murmured.

That had been odd, now that Onion Knight thought on it. The others usually insisted he or Terra take last watch, to afford them an uninterrupted night’s sleep. He sometimes chafed under the implications – though he might be youngest, he was not a child – and had been all too eager to offer Cecil that watch instead. Hadn’t thought to wonder at the change until now.

“Um,” Terra murmured. “Is that…” She pointed towards the remains of the fire.

In the grass rested a string of familiar blue, white and gold beads.

The way it had been laid out was no accident.

Onion Knight knelt down, picking up the string of the beads. They were cool as glass in his hands. The fire had been dead for some time.

“Yesterday, when we were talking,” Terra murmured, clasping her hands to her chest. “About the Northern Islands…”

“…Golbez,” Cloud muttered.

Cecil had left them. Without even a word.

“First Squall and now…” Onion Knight choked. This world was so empty already, why had they-

“Hey,” Tidus interrupted. “We still have a mission. They just… had a different mission, you know?”

“But to leave, without even saying anything?” Onion Knight wasn’t sure if he were distraught or just angry.

Terra laid a hand on his shoulder. “We can find the Mured Moogle, and a way home, and meet up with them then, can’t we?”

That was true. Going home was their top priority. Squall’s too, he guessed, even though the gunblader was going about it like an idiot. “They’re stupid,” he muttered. But they were all he knew. They’d lost so many already, could anyone blame him for being scared about losing more?

Terra was still there with him, though. He focused on that. Terra shouldn’t have to stay in this awful place. He needed to help her get home.

He didn’t want to think about what might come after. They’d said so many goodbyes already.

…………………

Squall tugged irritably at the collar of his coat. The Onrac region was unbearably warm, the air heavy with sulphurous gases and his path broken by constant eruptions and lava streams. Not ideal for a full leather getup.

He’d been lucky to find a still-functioning teleport crystal, and had taken it without question of where it would lead – just interested in getting away. That it had led to the Northern Islands was lucky. Given that this had been Chaos’s stronghold, he thought it far more likely that he would find something relevant to returning home here. Something better than a wild moogle chase.

Cosmos hadn’t known how to return them home. Chaos might have.

The lava hissed and sputtered, the only sound to accompany the thud of his boots on the dark volcanic rock. There was no life in this world – just them. And manikins, if manikins could even be called a lifeform.

There were more manikins here in the Northern Islands – still few and far between, but the ones he did stumble across were a more satisfying challenge than those strays of Crescent Lake and the Elven Snowfields.

More unsettling were the visages. Faces he didn’t recognise, agents of Chaos, even one mirror of himself – they were no problem. Manikins of Bartz, Firion, Zidane, and Warrior of Light however… those made him uncomfortable.

In this world, the dead never had the grace to stay dead, even when they weren’t reborn.

Crystal shattered under his gunblade, crumbling to the ground in a shower of sparkling dust. Squall brushed it from his coat, sweeping his gaze across the landscape to reorient himself from the battle.

Silence. Absolute, total silence.

Loneliness.

Squall hadn’t thought it could get to him. He was fine with being alone. That was who he was. Worrying about other people all the time… that wasn’t his thing. Better to not get attached.

Besides, he was sure they were fine without him.

In the distance, a glow of red, a different shade to the flowing magma, caught his eye. He changed course, heading towards it, until it resolved into a gateway.

He could tell at only a glance that it was deep.

He hesitated then, for just one moment. Some primal instinct warned him that there would be no Mured Moogle in this one. And he didn’t have any backup.

The moment passed. Squall scoffed. He didn’t need backup.

He stepped inside.

…………………..

Tidus was being moody again.

Cloud didn’t know what to do about it. If he tried to talk to him, the bleach-blond blitzballer would be all smiles again in an instant, insisting everything was fine. But ignoring it didn’t accomplish anything either.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. Somehow, he was expected to keep their ragtag little band of survivors together and focused on the goal of finding a way home. And he was already failing so spectacularly – Squall had struck out on his own at the first hint of disagreement, and Cecil had disappeared without a word to presumably search for Golbez. He’d noticed Squall’s discontent, and Cecil’s grief, and had done nothing.

He wouldn’t make that mistake with Tidus.

As much as Cloud felt uncomfortable with it, he’d noticed that he’d somehow been unofficially elected as leader of their excursion, and the painfully distant memory of his AVALANCHE days infused him with an odd sense of responsibility for the welfare of their diminished little band.

It was a big adjustment. It had been a long time since he’d had comrades. Longer than he could count.

Which made him the worst possible candidate for this, but no one else was going to do it.

He approached Tidus on the bluff. The Elven Snowfields were just visible in the distance from the rocky overhang, the distant snow-peaked tips of the Frozen Continent’s mountain range stark against the endlessly roiling grey clouds. The icy bite to the breeze was almost refreshing after their many days of trekking through the snow. “Hey.”

The blitzballer glanced at him, and a few seconds too late a bright grin stretched across his face. “Hey, Cloud. What’s up?”

No point dancing around the topic. “You don’t have to pretend, you know.”

“Huh?”

Cloud gave him a flat stare. “Don’t play the happy-go-lucky dumb jock card. What’s been bothering you?”

Tidus rubbed the back of his neck, his grin turning into a grimace. “You really don’t waste any time getting straight to the punch, do you?”

The Buster sword was digging into his shoulder. Cloud spent a moment shifting it into a more comfortable position. “It’s been long enough that you’re obviously not going to deal with it on your own.” He paused, thinking through his next words carefully. “You might not want to talk to me about it. That’s fine. But if you need help… that’s what comrades are for.”

Pep talks felt alien on his tongue after so long. Like lying.

Tidus shook his head at that. “Nah, it’s nothing personal. It’s just… I don’t even know where to start, you know? And I don’t want to drag you guys down.”

“We’re not exactly the cheeriest bunch in the first place,” Cloud stated bluntly. “…Is it about Jecht?” Because he’d expected problems from that. Having someone jump in front of a sword for you, sacrificing themselves right before your eyes – that did things to people. He knew better than most.

Predictably, the name brought a scowl to Tidus’s lips. “That guy? No way.” He started to pace along the edge of the bluff, kicking a stone off the side, where it tumbled and skittered for what seemed like forever. “If anything, I hate him more for doing that. Just going off and dying, protecting me like I’m still some little kid.”

The anger wasn’t entirely false, but it seemed to Cloud like it was directed more at himself than his father. “You’d rather have died in his place?” That could be a problem. It wasn’t an issue Cloud really felt comfortable counselling anybody on. Maybe he should have left this to Onion Knight or Terra after all.

“Of course not!” Tidus burst out. “I like existing, you know? My stupid old man doesn’t change any of that!”

It was an odd choice of words.

Cloud stayed quiet and didn’t ask, though. Sometimes, when confronted with enough silence, other people would fill it for him.

Luckily, Tidus was no different. His mouth twisted in a forced smile. "It’s just… I'm not even sure this is all real sometimes, you know? It could all just be... a dream."

Cloud chewed on that for a moment, then commented. "Pretty messed up dream."

That startled a laugh out of the blitzballer. "Sure is!" He threaded his fingers behind his head, staring out at the view. “…But I guess I can’t help but wondering, what happens when the dream ends?”

Cloud followed his gaze. Somewhere out there, among the crags and canyons of Melmond Fens, was a moogle who might help them. It had been a long journey so far, and they didn’t even know if it would end when they found him. “I suppose... we go home.”

“Yeah.” Tidus’s voice was soft, nearly a whisper. “But what if, back home, you’re already…”

His words were whisked away by the cold breeze. “Sorry?” Cloud asked.

Tidus slanted him a grin. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I mean, you’ve been stuck in this crazy dream for too long already, right? You don’t exactly want to stick around.” He nodded to himself, though the gesture looked oddly wistful. “Stories are supposed to have endings.”

Cloud remained silent, perplexed and more than a little unnerved. Tidus just slapped him on the back and started heading back towards the campsite. “Thanks for asking, though. It’s okay, really. Come on, it looks like Terra’s got a fire going.”

Something about the words niggled at the back of his brain though. It felt unfinished. Which was why Cloud found himself saying, “Hey. Tidus.”

The blitzballer paused. “Yeah?”

“Your story. How does it end?”

Tidus stilled at that, and for one brief moment, looked oddly insubstantial.

Then he smiled – a strange, brilliantly sad smile, that shone like the sun and reminded Cloud painfully of a flower girl he once knew, long ago.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

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