Freya Crescent is a Burmecian, a race of rat-like people from the nation of Burmecia. Well known for it's unending rain, Burmecia holds a proud history behind it steeped in tradition and legend. Legends of dragons, legends of warriors. Freya Crescent is one such warrior of the highest regard, a Dragoon. The youngest to ever pass the Dragoon trial, Freya was the squire of the noble Sir Fratley, a hero in his own right. Their relationship was complex, but their bond was strong. Master and student, brothers in arms, and lovebirds of great passion, the two were inseparable, always seen together in training, in leisure, and in battle whenever possible. That is, until the day that Sir Fratley left.

His goodbye was short yet heartfelt as he left on a journey of self-discovery, a mission of peace before the thundering of war. Freya promised that she would wait. And wait she did. An entire year of waiting, until rumor came of the death of Sir Fratley. The youngest Dragoon left her country, never to return for some time until she could find her lost lover. The games never touch upon what she had accomplished in-between, the things that she had seen and done, but it is known that Freya left Burmecia five years before the events of our story and had become friends with Zidane two years after that.

Freya joins with Zidane for the first time after meeting him in a seedy bar in Lindblum, claiming to be there for the Festival of the Hunt. Whether she is searching for Sir Fratley, testing her skills as she says, or has merely lost direction in her life is never clear, however she is able to convince Zidane to participate in the same festival. After such a heartwarming reunion comes a heartbreaking revelation: Burmecia came under attack from the forces of Kingdom Alexandria.

Zidane joins Freya as she travels back to Burmecia, passing through Gizamaluke's Grotto and pacifying Leviathan along the way. They find Burmecia in ruins, decimated by black mages, ground troops, and feral beasts. Freya comes to find that Queen Brahne, the Queen of Alexandria herself, is present for the slaughter along with General Beatrix, the cold-blooded knight that knows no mercy, and Kuja, a psychopathic monster of ill notoriety. Freya challenges General Beatrix and is beaten within an inch of her life, but ultimately spared an honorable death in favor of the misery of failing her people. On a lead, or maybe a hunch, Freya Crescent decides to return to the last bastion of her people: the sandstorm city of Cleyra.

Having split from the warrior nation of Burmecia long ago, Cleyra was a peaceful city of dancers, priests, and pacifists, the city itself protected by a ceaseless tornado of sand. Freya and her comrades are able to make it to Cleyra in order to warn the King of Burmecia who had taken refuge there. To protect against the incoming assault, the Cleyran High Priest decides to perform a ritual dance to strengthen the power of Cleyra's protective sandstorm. Freya is given the honors of participating and does so, but no sooner does the ritual complete than the harp used to pluck the notes of the ritual chorus snap. The sandstorm ceases, and Alexandria attacks.

Cleyra soon becomes overrun with foot soldiers from the base of Cleyra and black mage troops teleporting inside from airships, and things begin to take a grim turn. Freya and her comrades are pushed back to the cathedral to make a final stand, when another Dragoon comes to her rescue. Sir Fratley. Freya is overjoyed to finally unite with her long lost love until he reveals that he does not remember her name. He has been stricken with amnesia, and does not remember anything save for his title as a legendary Dragoon, and he disappears into the fray to rescue his fellow people from their demise. Freya is heartbroken, and it is here that General Beatrix once more enters the scene.

She steals the jewel upon the ritual harp, but Freya will not allow her to win twice. Freya challenges her to a second duel and is once more bested with little effort before teleporting back to her airship. With revenge in her heart and mind, Freya gives chase and is able to board the same ship. Just in time to witness the genocide of the last of her people. As Freya and the rest of the party board Queen Brahne's airship, she unleashes the eidelon Odin to destroy the city of Cleyra, and with it nearly the rest of Freya's race. With nothing left to lose, Freya pursues General Beatrix to Alexandria via teleportation.

While in Alexandria castle Freya, Zidane, and the rest of the party manage to save Princess Garnet after Queen Brahne's minions, Zorn and Thorn, extract her eidelons. General Beatrix, in repentance for blindly following orders, betrays Queen Brahne and offers to aid in Princess Garnet's escape. Against her better judgement, Freya joins both Beatrix and Steiner in covering Zidane's retreat with Princess Garnet in tow.

Freya spends some time in Alexandria Castle recuperating from her overwhelming battle before Zidane returns with Princess Garnet, now the last royal heir after the assassination of Queen Brahne on the Outer Continent. Eventually Freya acquaints herself with Zidane's newly gathered party, and after the coronation of Queen Garnet they head to Treno for some R&R. However, their rest is cut short when Alexandria is attacked by Kuja in a powerful airship, using eidelons as his weapons. Freya and the party in Treno board the Hilde Guarde 2 and head for Alexandria, arriving in time to witness the summon of the eidelon Alexander.

Freya retreats to Lindblum with her comrades to plan their next move. While there, she encounters a few Burmecian refugees and promises to rebuild Burmecia once Kuja has been killed. Looking for clues as to Kuja's whereabouts, the party travels to Black Mage Village where they learn of Kuja's Desert Palace. When they enter the palace, they are captured and held ransom for Zidane's cooperation. Kuja gives Zidane an ultimatum: he is to travel to a place called Oeilvert and retrieve an item for him, or his friends will die. Zidane, of course, agrees to this request. Because Oeilvert has an anti-magic barrier within it, we'll assume that he takes Freya along with him.



While in Oeilvert, Freya learns about Terra in the cryptic messages that are left behind. They retrieve the item that Kuja had asked for and make their way back to his palace to find that the others have escaped, and the party attempts to halt Zidane from giving Kuja what they want. Of course, they fail, and Kuja attempts to flee in his airship while they pursue by boat to the Lost Continent, having kidnapped the young summoner Eiko. Freya assists in saving her life along with Zidane. Kuja's plans are revealed and the party retreats back to Lindblum to plan their next move: finding clues in Ipsin Castle.

Ipsin Castle reveals the key to travelling between the two worlds, Terra and Gaia, and that one must place the mirrors that were found upon the top at the four corners of the world. Since they must be done at once, the party splits into teams to accomplish this goal. Freya is teamed with Amarant in placing the Fire Mirror within a volcano. After a tough fight against an arrogant enemy, the two are victorious and are picked up by Zidane and his crew to travel to the Shivering Island, taking the Spirit Road to the gate of Terra.

Freya arrives on Terra with the party and discovers the truth of Zidane's origins, Kuja, and the cause of the turmoil that has wracked Gaia since the war with Alexandria had started. Zidane disappears to speak to Garland, and it is obvious that his bewitching words have affected his mind. The party goes to assist him, and Freya and Amarant join forces again in an attempt to get him to snap out of his strange behavior. He ignores the two of them and presses forward, leaving them behind. Everyone will catch up with Zidane after a time, and Freya ends up chastising him for going off alone. Afterwards they confront Garland, Kuja's Silver Dragon, and Kuja himself before Kuja uses his newly found powers of Trance and decimates them.

In his power trip, Kuja's Ultima spell threatens to destroy all of Pandemonium and what remains of Terra. Ever the hero, Zidane attempts to save his Genome brothers and sisters by helping them evacuate to the airship. Freya assists Zidane in leading the evacuation effort. Freya shows concerns that Kuja is still alive and will attempt to destroy Gaia, and her fears are confirmed. Kuja attempts to cause the Lifa Tree to malfunction and floods the world with Mist, the cloudy substance that breeds monsters. Faced with Armageddon, Freya shows both melancholy and resolve in what must be done. She must fight to her last breath and enjoy the time she does have left.

Above the Lifa Tree is a large orb of pure energy, from which powerful dragons pour out of. Using Regent Cid's air fleet the party is able to annihilate all the dragons and enter into Memoria, a place not unlike Celestia. Memoria is a place of hard truths, where one is forced to live out their memories once again, both forgotten and painful. It is here that they learn about the truth of Terra and Gaia from Zidane's Genome memory and the villain Garland. After their journey through Memoria, the party arrives at the Crystal World, a land of nothing and everything. It is here where the world crystal resides that birthed all worlds. And Kuja is there, trying to destroy it and take all reality with him.

The battle with Kuja begins, and he is defeated. With his final act, Kuja destroys the world crystal. The party wakes up in Hell, and must defeat Necron, the Darkness of Eternity, the ultimate being that will return all existence to nothingness. The group is able to stave off Necron, but not truly defeat it. It claims that as long as life and death exists it will be eternal. Everyone is teleported out of Hell and to the base of the Lifa Tree, which is going berserk. Zidane attempts to to go there to save Kuja from his own demise, but he is stopped by the rest of the party. Initially Freya refuses to let Zidane go alone, until he makes it abundantly clear that this is for his sake, in which case she relents and boards the Hilda Guarde 3. This is the last time she will see him in a year.

During that year, Freya Crescent has become close again with Sir Fratley. Although he does not remember the days they had spent together, they fall in love all over again and spend their time rebuilding Burmecia to its former glory. She attends a play at Alexandria Castle upon Queen Garnet's request, I Wanna Be Your Canary performed by the Tantalus Theatre Troupe, Zidane's old thieve's guild. It comes to light at the finally of the play that Zidane is still alive when, as dramatic as ever, throws off his cloak to reveal that he had been playing the lead part all along.

And that, as they say, is all.

Lancer - The Lancer technique is often the first and most useful technique a Dragoon learns. While not nearly as powerful as a piercing strike from a spear, the Lancer technique is capable of absorbing an adversary's spirit, soothing the user's own soul. It drains enemy health and magic and gives a small difference to the user of the technique.

Reis's Wind - Named after Reis Dular, the Holy Dragon of legend, Reis's Wind is a defensive spiritual technique. By infusing one's spirit into their lance and twirling it with great force, a Dragoon can generate a pacifying wind that staves off fatigue, keeps the undead at bay, and purifies unholiness. The Reis's Wind technique can also defend against low-level black magics. Dragoons in large units often use the Reis's Wind technique to maintain their fierce battle style for long periods of time, outlasting larger and more numerous enemy units through sheer force of spirit.

Dragon Breath - All Dragoon's possess the spirit of a great dragon, manifested through their strong willpower, jumping ability, Dragon Arts, and other mysterious ways. A Dragoon is capable of using this spirit to emulate a dragon's powerful breath attack. This attack's power is directly proportional to a Dragoon's own vitality, and they use their spirit to overwhelm the spirits of their enemies. Simply speaking, the better condition a Dragoon is in, the more powerful their Dragon Breath.

White Draw - A more advanced version of the Lancer technique, the White Draw attacks an adversary's mind and spirit directly. The Dragoon performing this technique is able to feed off of this spirit to replenish their own, and since they receive this spirit in a raw form they can choose to share this spirit with their surrounding allies. Dragoons will use the White Draw when in larger units to keep their spirits strong, and Dragoons deployed with mages and summoners will use this ability to restore their Magic Potential.

Luna - Dragoons are fierce and powerful warriors but tempered with discipline and a strong resolve. However, each Dragoon will choose what they themselves will focus on: their powerful fury or flawless technique. Dragoons of both disciplines will find great use in the Luna technique, an ancient dance that ignites the passions of all who witness to a fever pitch. To the fierce, this ritual will cast off the doubts of themselves and their comrades as they fly into a blood rage and overrun an equally impassioned enemy. To the clever, they will be able to exploit the endless rage of their aggressors, striking decisively and with purpose as the enemy flails about with anger in their heart and not a thought in their head but blood lust.

Six Dragons - Through intense prayer at a desperate moment, a Dragoon can be capable of invoking a Hydra of Spirit. Although this is less of a technique and more of a trial, a Dragoon can use this to great effect in the heat of battle. When they are at their last breath, final step, and can go no longer, by reading the Dragoon's oath in one's head it is said that a Hydra of Spirit will appear to the Dragoon. The Hydra of Spirit will then pass judgement on the Dragoon and his or her company to see if they are worthy of assistance. The Hydra of Spirit is highly unpredictable, however, and its appearance can be as harmful as it can be helpful. If a Hydra of Spirit deems the Dragoon worthy, it will soothe his or her soul and restore his or her body to peak physical form. If not, it will attempt to finish off the Dragoon. The Hydra of Spirit will also do the same for any in the vicinity, either healing their body or destroying their souls. Understandably so, Dragoons do not use this technique outside of their greatest time of need.

Cherry Blossom - A more ceremonial technique, this ritual is performed through ancient dance. By infusing the soul into one's movements and performing the dance as passed down through tradition, a Dragoon may splinter their spirit and scatter it to the breeze. This spirit manifests in gentle flakes, the technique named after the appearance of these flakes, that drift gently upon the wind. These flakes of spirit are harmful to the flesh, however, and the sheer number of them can prove overwhelming. This technique is commonly used in tandem with Reis's Wind to scatter the Cherry Blossoms into enemies more effectively. A small handful of master Dragoons have learned that by modifying their steps and performing with weapon in hand that they can invoke Cherry Blossoms while attacking at the same time.

Dragon Crest - The most powerful and final technique a Dragoon can learn, the Dragon Crest ritual is not taught to Dragoon's through traditional methods. The Dragon Crest technique can only be learned by an individual when they have become strong enough to do so, and have proven as much by slaying a large number of dragons. Their soul will speak to them and show them the ritual they must perform, and this ritual will free the soul of the Dragoon in a powerful attack. This attack will focus the warrior's spirit of the Dragoon, taking the cumulative spirit of the dragons they have slain and unleash it upon the enemy. For master Dragoon's this attack can be devastating, even more destructive than the most potent black mage spell or summoner's eidelon. This comes at a cost, however. If performed prematurely, incorrectly, or without a strong enough spirit, the Dragon Crest technique can severely injure or kill the performer.

Cloud is fundamentally defined by his desire to be a hero, and how his attempts have resulted in failure or success along the way. Though his game starts at a much later point in his life, his story starts under the starry night sky, sitting next to someone who would grow up to be a beautiful, powerful woman, and yet to the young child is merely a passing acquaintance, and yet also just a little bit more. It is under the starry sky that he tells her of his ultimate ambition, to join the ranks of SOLDIER first class, to gather fame and strength within his hands. He follows in the shadow of someone who he believes to be a great man. A hero with a peculiarly long sword.

However, despite his bravado, Cloud never makes it into the SOLDIER program. For all his ambition, and indeed notable skills, something holds him back from being with the true elite. Though he interacts with several of the men who hold his coveted position through his job as an infantryman, he is seen by most of them as nobody of importance. It could be said they don’t really see him at all. Except for one. A SOLDIER with black hair, and a sword of ridiculous size at least notices the boy, who he considers to be of similar origin to himself, and they become friends. But such is not to last as eventually Cloud’s idol, Sephiroth, breaks down under his own personal demons and descends from his pedestal high above, turning from an Angel to a Monster almost overnight.

It is notable that it is not any of the SOLDIERs, even Cloud’s friend Zack, who ultimately dispose of this menace at this time, but it is instead Cloud himself. (Of course he arguably got in some lucky, cheap shots).

This experience, the trauma and the introduction of magical Mako poisoning into his system which causes Cloud to become who he is at the start of his game. An arrogant, disillusioned “Ex-SOLDIER first class,” who believes himself to have achieved something like his life’s ambition at terrible cost to himself. The rest of the game is Cloud’s journey to learn the truth of his life’s ambition, and what being a hero truly, means. By the end of his game, he’s come to the realization that saving the world, as he and his companions must, is important not for the sake of his own compensation, whether the recognition he sought as a child or the money he sought at the start of the game, but is instead important for its own sake. (One could say this revelation really shouldn’t be that hard to grasp, but it does lead us through a good eighty hour RPG).

Post VII, during the events of Advent Children, Cloud has to deal with both a terminal illness and a large degree of survivor’s guilt. Though Cloud had become the Hero he was always meant to be over the course of his game, he still regrets those he couldn’t save along the way, especially Aerith, and grows distant from his living comrades as a result of his emotional trauma. However, by the end of the movie both of these issues are resolved, leaving Cloud in the state you imagined him in at the end of the original game before Advent Children pointed out he would still have issues. He reconciles with his friends (particularly Tifa it would seem), and vows that he won’t allow his past mistakes to hold him back any longer.

Materia System: FFVII’s Materia System means that Cloud should in theory have access to nearly every ability in the game at any given time. For those curious, the Materia system is also part of the lore, in which it does pretty much exactly what it does in terms of gameplay. How much this is to be reflected in this story is pretty up in the air, but I felt it worth mentioning.

Fusion Swords: The swords Cloud wields in Advent Children, which have the unusual property of splitting into up to six different blades. These blades can be combined in various ways, or split in order to give dual wielding capabilities. When fully combined, they form a sword around the same size and with an appearance reminiscent of Cloud’s iconic Buster Sword, though with a more “industrial” looking design.

Super Strength: After recovering from the Mako Poisoning in his backstory, the process seems to have given Cloud the same strength augmentation an actual SOLDIER receives from Shinra. Notably, Cloud is shown in Advent Children to be capable of wielding his swords with one hand despite their apparent size and weight, though he still prefers to use two hands when the swords are fully assembled. Although this is perhaps less impressive than Cloud’s demonstrated ability to practically fly with his jumps, and basically perform any absurd feat of power you can imagine with a sword.

Limit Breaks: Cloud is capable of executing powerful attacks with his oversized sword, though the exact mechanism of these is unknown. These include:



Magical Power: Possibly due to his Mako infused body (seriously, it sometimes seems like we should all be so lucky as to contract “Mako Poisoning”), Cloud is actually the second strongest magic user out of all his companions, and the strongest period after Aerith dies. This is on top of his ridiculous physical strength. While his ability to cast spells still requires Materia just like anyone else in his universe, his ability to use their power to their full potential is nearly unrivaled amongst the heroes of his story.

Phantoms: These are characters from Cloud’s past who represent his memories and pieces of his own feelings and desires. Interaction with these Phantoms are the primary way Cloud regains his memories over the course of the game, but they also will give him advice or try to lead him astray. They’re not real, in the sense that they aren’t the original characters from Gaia that are transported to Celestia the way Cloud is, but they do interact with the physical environment in many ways. In crossovers with the other players, they can see the Phantoms too, they’re not just in Cloud’s head. But they do originate from all the things locked up in there.

Surrealist Environments: One goal for me in this game is to communicate symbolism through the use of strange or downright surreal setting details. If I do my job right, there will be moments in the story where it isn’t entirely clear whether what Cloud is experiencing is even actually happening. The concrete answer to that question can be decided upon on a case by case basis between myself and others who want to interact with Cloud and the types of environments he interacts with. That is to say, we can decide together whether we’d rather be telling a story where Cloud looks like he’s just insane and you don’t see what he sees, or if you want to journey through a labyrinth with him.

Heroic Ambition: Our Cloud at the start of the game is a much more pure character than the one at the start of FFVII. He is the child who grew up to become a Hero, and met none of the difficulties Cloud actually encountered along the way. He is very idealistic in ways you might not expect of Cloud Strife, but these ideals will be marred by shadows of doubt as he begins to remember more of what his life was actually like. You could compare the Cloud at the start of our game to Zack Fair.

A Hero Who Damns: One of the driving questions in Cloud’s journey to discover his past is how responsible he is, exactly, for all the bad things that will be happening around him. A lot of the bad events will be caused by the Phantoms that follow him, in an effort to torment him. These combine with the doubts created by his recovering memories to ask a simple question to our hero. Is he to blame?

Exploits of Legends: Given all the effort I put into describing all of Cloud’s physical abilities, it would be a waste for none of them to actually be used in this game. Don’t worry, not everything will be moments of navel gazing and helplessness. I intend to include plenty of scenes where Cloud gets to whack people with a ridiculously heavy chunk of steel until they stop moving.

Well to be fair, my main drive with this game is to, um, have fun? Yes, that’s it. Fun. Of course, fun to me often means characters under my control suffer. So there will be suffering in the story I intend to weave.

I’m one of those people who works best by writing as I go. I don’t plan too far ahead, at least not this early into a game. So I couldn’t possibly give an arc by arc breakdown of what this game is going to include. But here’s some idea points:
Introduction: Cloud wakes up with no idea what is happening. He takes things in stride, and goes to find civilization. He succeeds, but the people of this town need his help. He agrees.
Memories Begin: While on this new Quest Cloud begins to wonder why he recognizes certain things in his environment.
Phantoms Commence: Cloud meets his first Phantom. They speak in vague details and ominous portents, but Cloud is confident and doesn’t believe anything they predict could be a problem.
The Burning of Beginnings: Cloud’s first sign of civilization is taken from him. Possibly by being burned to the ground, but I haven’t decided yet. Might be too soon for something so similar to Nibelheim.
The Quest: Cloud’s first task leads him directly into a second task as a result of his “employer’s” sudden case of “not being here anymore”-itis. Perhaps a kidnapped child he was sent to rescue no longer has a home and Cloud has to escort him to a new town. (This kind of thing might be a repeating pattern in the game).
Ominous Reunion: Cloud realizes something is off about this new village. Isn’t it remarkably similar to the last one? The one that burned to the ground? But his companions don’t understand why he’s unsettled.
Deep beneath the Earth: We’re starting to take these out of order, we’ll be backfilling how we get to this one as we go. Cloud has to chase Phantom Sephiroth deep beneath the Earth. Hell imagery ensues. We’re going to explore this one in our sample writing below, though I’m not saying it will happen exactly that way in the game (my sample is designed to evoke as many of the Notes I gave above as possible).
Conclusion: Cloud either overcomes his Phantoms from his past, or is consumed by them.

“This is where your father is, right?”

“That’s where I saw the bad man go.”

Cloud continues his hike up the mountain at a steady, slow pace. He could have made it up the cliffs in half the time rather easily, but the boy at his side couldn’t, and the boy was the one leading Cloud. The man with a sword for giants took a moment to look down the side of the cliff to his left, down into the sheer drop off a narrow edge. The ground below seemed small from here, but the boy navigated the expanse, if not with superhuman speed, then with confidence that could only come from experience. This was the child’s mountain. And he had seen evil performed there.

“The bad man with silver hair, right?”

“He looked just like you described him,” the boy nodded his head vigorously, up and down and up more times than strictly necessary. He was nervous, so Cloud gave him a small little grin, and ruffled the kid’s dark hair.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get him back.”

“Maybe…”

They continued on, the two of them, the swordsman and his new companion up the mountain trail. The air was growing cold from the height they had scaled, but it was a summer month and Cloud did not expect a snowstorm. It wasn’t much longer before they came to the end of their path, and stumbled upon the entrance to a cave.

“This is it,” the kid said with hushed tones. His eyes refused to look within the darkness before him. “This is where the bad man took my father.”

“Well alright then!” Cloud shrugged his shoulders, loosening the assembled blade from its sheath. The smile on his face grew. Enter the dungeon, save the damsel (?) in distress, defeat the boss. These were the kinds of things heroes like him could do with their eyes closed. “You wait here. It’s dangerous for a kid.”

He took three steps forward, and only one step past the child, before the kid grabbed for his hand. Cloud’s foot was inches away from the inky blackness.

“Wait!”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t go.”

Cloud turned around to face the kid, dropping down into a squat so his eyes were on the boy’s level.

“Are you nervous?’ Cloud asked the child.

“…I’m afraid,” the child admitted.

“About walking back down the mountain alone? You can wait for me if you need to.”

“No,” he shook his head. The sky was darkening, and the false twilight cast its shadows on the terrified face. “No, I can make it on my own just fine.”

He might just be putting on a brave face, but still Cloud believed him. “Then come on bud, there’s no need to be scarred!” the SOLDIER gave the kid a light tap on the shoulder. Not enough to knock him off balance, for the ledge was still narrow and Cloud knew his own strength, but it was a friendly, brotherly gesture all the same. “…I’ll get him back for you, you know.”

“Please don’t go into the cave.”

“Hey now, come on. I’ll save him. You know I will, right?”

“My dad is already,” the child swallowed the emptiness in his mouth, “My dad is already dead. No one who goes into that cave ever comes out. Please Mr. Swordsman, don’t go out into the cave. Don’t step into the dark.”

Cloud looked over his shoulder. It certainly was dark; that was a fact. The light seemed to just end as soon as it came upon the entrance of stone. He took a moment to confirm which of the crystalline marbles were in which sword, and seeing the one he wanted he allowed crackling lightning to enter one hand. The dancing thunder cast flickering light into the cave, but it was light none the less.

“No problem. I won’t step into the dark. I can light my own way.”

With that, Cloud pulled his hand from the child’s grasp, and took one last step into the boundary. “I’ll be back soon!” he called out to the kid one last time. “You wait and see. I’ll be back, and your father will be with me.”

He turned a corner and the child disappeared behind a dark mass. A wall of stone, just a wall. Cloud’s light was a very short range, and seemed to make the darkness all the blacker with its pale light. The brave hero didn’t jump at the movement in the shadows, nor falter as he heard the sound of scraping stone and small, falling rocks. Something was moving in the darkness, but he was a SOLDIER first class, and he was not scared.

“Sephiroth!” he called into the abyss around him. “I know you’re in here! Isn’t kidnapping random civilians a little beneath you?”

The sound of metal on stone echoed in the distance, along with a spark of light.

“Thunder!” Cloud intoned, finishing his spell. The electrical light in his hand arced out towards the sparks of steel on stone, and were absorbed into the Earth. The light was gone, or so it should have been. But there was a light ahead, a faint glimmer. He felt himself drawn to it, by the curiosity of it. Light, in a cave? It had to be artificial, but it flickered like tongues of flame in the distance. A candle? He took his steps until he was closer, only to find a small crack in the wall. The light was leaking out from the other side. He tried to peak through, to see what it was, but it was too small a gap and all he could see was flickering light. He’d have to breakthrough

He unsheathed his behemoth of a sword, and brought it back behind him. A soft glow began to emerge from the blade as he prepared one of his more powerful attacks to break through the stone. He took a few steps back, and swung the blade down. A beam of searing light traveled down the path, illuminating the room for just a moment.

Out of the corner of his vision, Cloud could have sworn he saw watching eyes along the walls.

He turned about even as the stone crumbled before his attack, and the light of a thousand fires entered into the tunnel. A searing heat erupted along his back, but the light revealed nothing but smooth, pale stone. No eyes.

“You think you can mess with me?” Cloud muttered to himself, as he turned back around. He brought his arm up to shield his eyes from the intense heat. Had he stumbled into an active volcano? He felt like his very lungs were going to combust from the heat in each breath. His skin was dry, the sweat of his brow evaporating faster than he could replenish it. Such a fire as this, he had never seen the like.

He lowered his arm. It was a path ahead, a path of stone in a sea of burning fire. It led down.

“That is not a volcano,” Cloud admitted to himself, and to whoever was listening on the other sides of the walls of flame. But there was only one path forward, and he wasn’t going to back down now. He took his first step into the fire, and though the flames didn’t intrude upon his path, the heat of them was reflected in the stone which seemed as if it were waiting to melt beneath him as he walked on it. He continued forward, leaving footprints in the sold stone as it almost pooled around his feet.

“Do you remember the fire?”

His sword was instantly raised in a block, and he turned about on his heel, anticipating an attack from any direction. It was his voice. That man’s emotionless, mocking tone. But he couldn’t see him. There was smoke in the air above, and fire to either side. Cloud felt weak from the heat wearing at his body.

“Sephiroth!” he yelled out once again.

“Do you remember? The fire was your fault you know.”

“I don’t remember any fire! You know that. Stop paying games with me. Where are you?”

“I’m up ahead Cloud. Cloud. Do you remember what it feels like to burn?”

With a growl as his only answer, Cloud resolved to ignore the nonsense coming from that man’s mouth. Why did hearing it make him so angry? Why was that enough to make the fire seem cold compared to fire within? He stepped forward down the path, down the path leading deeper and deeper into the mountain below. Down, until he came upon a door in the cliff face.

“…What- no. Don’t ask questions,” Cloud muttered to himself. “He’s just playing ridiculous mind games.”

The handle on the door was red hot, so Cloud didn’t touch it. He simply kicked the door in, but it didn’t save him. A backdraft, green in contrast to the burning red of the current room, belched from the new opening, and all across his leg. He fell to his back, biting on his tongue to ease the pain as he tried to put out the fire with his hands. It wasn’t working. It burned.

“Just go,” he thought to himself, silently this time. “Ignore it. Just go. You can’t put out the flames until you escape this room.”

With a force of will, Cloud returned to his feet, his desperate lungs panting in smoking air as he tried to ignore the fact that his leg was still on fire. Ahead was a room filled with green frame, the same as the red flame of the first but this time, the path was narrower. He grit his teeth, and began to run as if he were a demon of the flame.

“Do you remember now?” the voice of that man asked, clam as ever. “Do you remember what it feels like to burn?” And for a moment, Cloud thought he could hear screams of pain, the screams of the dying.

“Not exactly hard to remember something that happened to you two seconds ago.”

It was only after his witty comeback that he realized the screams weren’t just in his head.

He looked back over his shoulder, and he could see the hand reaching out from the pit of green flamed. They were corpse fingers, burned black by the heat until there was nothing left but charred bone. And they were numerous as the burning bodies began to pull themselves up along the path behind him. And they were screaming in pain, protesting their terrible fate.

“It was your fault you know.”

“It wasn’t your fault!” the voice of a young girl, her voice again. “He did it. He was the one who burned them to their bones! Not you.”

“Oh, but he didn’t save them. And that makes it his fault. What kind of hero can’t even save people?”

He tried to ignore them as he ran upon a burning leg. Ran down deeper and deeper into the mountain. The angle of the mountain path seemed to be getting steeper. He was descending more quickly, and he could see a door ahead. Another door at the end of the path. He’d learnt his lesson last time, and even as he was running he held his sword back, and allowed a beam to charge there again. He slashed forward, and the burst of energy ran quicker along the path than he could. Yet even it was overwhelmed by the sheer explosive force of the blue flame within the next room, and down the next path. It burst into the entryway like the door were an overinflated balloon just waiting for the slightest prick to pop. And it stayed, enveloping the door relentlessly even as Cloud made it to the gap in the wall his attack had left behind. The burning men were inches behind him. Reaching for him.

Without hesitation he jumped through. He felt his body burning.

He landed on a path that was narrower still. The blue flames burned all the brighter, and he couldn’t see because he was inundated with painful, burning fire. He couldn’t even writhe, for if he were to roll even an inch on the ground he would surely fall into the hell below him. His body wouldn’t support him, he couldn’t stand up. So he grabbed at the ground in front of him, the path was so thin he could reach his entire hand around it. The angle of the path was growing ever steeper, he felt almost as if he were going to slide down into the pit deep within the mountain if were to get any worse. He pulled forward, and inched his way through the fire. He wasn’t going to die here. Not after all of this. Not with all those unanswered questions still burning in his mind.

“This is how they felt when you didn’t save them.”

A figure of shadow emerge from the smoke, the light of the blue fire absorbed by his countenance. He was upon Cloud in an instant, the fire licking at the bare skin of his exposed chest. It was like this man, this demon, didn’t even feel it. His thin, long sword swiped out like the blinking of an eye. Cloud’s sword was in front of his body just as quickly. He had to lay his other hand against the flat of his blade to counter the force of the blows. He didn’t have the strength, and the madman just kept. On. Attacking.

Sephiroth wasn’t even trying to bypass his guard. His ruthless slashes hammered against the blond swordsman’s guard with the ferocity of a monster tearing flesh from bone. Cloud could feel the stone beneath his back cracking apart from the forces Sephiroth was pushing against it. And unlike the one winged angel, he wouldn’t be able to fly to safety if he fell.

He couldn’t even spit the poison name through the smoke in his lungs.

“Do you remember now? This is what it felt like in Nibelheim.”

Cloud lowered his guard. The hand against the flat of the blade was glowing with a crackling light. He couldn’t name the spell, couldn’t speak. But he wanted this man to hurt. And that was enough. In the split instant between those attacks, it was enough. The thunder spell arced between them, and the specter was thrown back. Far away, up into the air, until he could no longer be seen. The only sign of his journey reaching a destination was a distant thud as he hit the ceiling that, though obscured by the smoke, was still there high above. And then a rumble. And then the falling stones.

Cloud grasped the next piece of the path. The cave was collapsing. A stalactite broke through the path where he had been seconds before, piercing straight through the weakened stone. And then the path began to collapse behind him, and Cloud continued to drag himself forward. Forward. Forward.

And then he began to slide down the pathway of smooth stone. The angle of his descent had grown too steep. Soon a slide turned into freefall. He was falling through the fire, and down to the bottom of the mountain, and there was a door.

His body broke upon the doorway out of this torture. And the doorway broke upon his body. There was a hiss as the fire across his flesh was instantly doused by the sheer chill of the room. Cloud found himself sliding against ice. He could barely feel it, so many of his nerves were burnt away. And yet it was cold. A cold that chilled the very bones of his body. They threatened to shatter in protests at such a sudden change in temperature.

And yet, though the burning had ceased across his physical form now, he could remember it. He remembered Nibelheim.

A trembling hand rose from the floor. It glowed with a pale blue light, and he tried to bring it to his leg. His chest. His eyes. He couldn’t see. The fire had robbed him of his eyes. But he just couldn’t make the hand move. Couldn’t bring the curative magic to the places he needed it to be. It was over. He was going to die in the fire, just as a different man who bore his name had wished those years ago. Back in Nibelheim. Back after everything…

He felt small hands wrapping around the hand he couldn’t seem to move. A flow of numb soothing traveled down his arm. He could feel it getting better. He could feel his body mending.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice.

Once his arm could finally move, he raised it to his eyes. And then finally, as the Cure spell worked its way through him, he could see again. And he saw her. A little girl with long brown hair, and a soothing touch. Her hand was glowing with the same green magic his was, and she was now working on his leg. The skin beneath her fingers was mending. And as the sensation of touch returned to him, he felt a dampness upon his shirt. Tiny droplets of water. She was crying.

“It wasn’t,” she whispered.

And he remembered, “You were there. You were older, but it was you.”

Her muscles tensed. Her eyes snapped to him, and he could see the tears on the child’s face. “Do you remember my name?” she asked, her voice hopeful, but hesitant.

He thought about it. “No.”

Her features morphed into closed eyes and a small sigh. She rubbed away the tears. Her shoulders lost their tension. It wasn’t relief she was feeling, no. Even to him it was clear this was the all-consuming disappointment one can only feel when your hopes are built up, and then torn down too fast for you to realize it wasn’t possible. “But you remember his name?” she asks, but she already knew the answer.

“He is Sephiroth.”

“You shouldn’t fixate on him so much,” she finished wiping the tears away, and favored him with a small little smile. A smile filled with many things. Pity, but tempered by a deep respect. Disappointment, but tempered by hope. Love, even, and this tempered only by her childish eyes. “You always did focus on the bad things. Try to remember my name, will you? I want you to remember pleasant things.”

“Your name…”

Cloud rose to his feet, testing his newly mended muscles. His body seemed to be working near full capacity again, though he still felt like coughing smoke from his lungs. The fire. The heat. Where had it gone? He looked about the cavern he found himself in. It was frozen over by ice colder than the blackest heart. It felt like this was the place fires and warmth went to die. Where was the door? The door he had fallen through. He looked to the ceiling but he couldn’t see it. He looked left, and right. Then, then he looked behind him, and saw the pile of rubble, chilled now by the entropic frost. It bulged within the frame of a door. But he had fallen down through the door, hadn’t he? Or was that pit of flame to his side, as he saw with his own eyes? He didn’t think of it too much. He had other things to worry about.

“Your name…” he thought aloud to himself. She leaned in towards his words, in eager anticipation. “I… your name is…”

The sound of steel against ice drew his attention like a whip to the other side of the room. Towards the darkest corner. There a single black wing protruded out from the darkness, even as the rest of the body had yet to step into the light.

“Sephiroth…”

“I believe you were looking for this.”

The man with the silver hair tossed something at Cloud’s feet with a lazy, underhand throw. It impacted against the ice with a dull, wet thud, and rolled forward slightly until it touched against Cloud’s foot and laid to rest. It was something vaguely round, tangled in dark wisps, and stained a crimson red. Cloud knelt to brush the threads away from it, and saw the face beneath. The man he was sent to save, and it seemed as if he had been dead for a while.

He stared at in silence.

“Just another one you couldn’t save, right?”

“Cloud… Cloud no. You have to ignore him Cloud. If you don’t- oh please, Cloud!” the little girl whispered as she reached out to grab him by the sleeve.

“You…”

“Cloud!” she grabbed at him more insistently now.

“YOU!”

He threw her off his arm, and she went flying back into the rubble of the burning room. She lay limp upon the frozen floor, but he didn’t see her. He didn’t see anything. He was breathing heavily now, the lifeless chilled wind betraying the gusts of his breath around his lips. He grasped his sword in hand and rushed the man with the immeasurably long sword.

“You did this! It’s your fault! Everything was your fault! Everything!”

He didn’t even see the man he was fighting. He just brought down his sword, hammering blow after blow against him. One strike, two, three in the time it takes to blink. Four, five, six, and all blocked by that blade. And yet the blade was bending now. Ever so slightly, it was almost imperceptible, but the invincible sword was failing.

“Your fault. Your fault!”

Seven, eight, nine. The blows were raining faster than the sounds of them could reach their ears. Ten, eleven, twelve. The sword they struck against was bent into a mangled mess of steel.
“No Cloud. I may have done those things, but that’s just what I do. Just what a villain does. It’s a hero’s fault when they aren’t saved. Because it’s a hero’s job to save them.”

Thirteen. The force of the blows were such that it shredded the snow beneath their feet, and cast it into the air. It was snowing. Fourteen. And the twisted, deformed metal shattered into pieces. It was snowing in a weather pattern of ice and steel.

Cloud leapt into the air, his sword was pointed towards the ground now. A feral scream tore through his throat as he plunged it down through the defenseless form in front of him. Fifteen. His breathing became calm again. And only then did he see.

It wasn’t Sephiroth that was pinned against his blade. He didn’t know her. A woman in a pink dress, with long brown hair. Her back was turned to him, and she hung limp on the blade. The massive sword was the only thing holding her in the air at all. Dead. She was dead.

It’s a hero’s fault when they aren’t saved.

Oh god, he thought to himself. What kind of hero can’t save anyone?

MEMORIA

Marche's story began upon moving to an unassuming snow filled town named St. Ivalice in an attempt to help his ailing brother with his illness. It was durning his very first day at his new school that Marche encountered the two new friends that would accompany him on his wild journey; Ritz and Mewt. The class head and school punching bag would find themselves on the same team as the quickly titled "New Kid' in a large scale snowball fight right before school begun. This game was quickly brought to an end as one of the class bullies hid a rock within a snowball and struck Mewt square in the forehead. The trio would retire to the Nurse's office which is the first place Newt would mention to them a "Book of Magic" he had found.

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully. It wasn't until after school that the trio were able to meet once more to discuss what was brought up in the Nurse's office. They eventually agreed to meet at Marche's house with his younger brother Donald and all read the book together. Upon opening the Gran Grimore, the magical book Mewt had acquired, the children all thought of worlds filled with wonder and adventure; worlds where they could take away all that brought them sadness. Without a second thought the book answered them, shattering their world as they new it and thrusting them into a world befitting that of games they had played.

Immediately after being thrust into this new magical world, Marche managed to insult one of the most irritable species that inhabited it; Calling a Bangaa a giant lizard. He was saved just in the nick of time by someone who would quickly become a fast friend in this strange land; Montblanc the Moogle. Together they would work together to build up Montblanc's clan and gain prestige in this strange nation of Ivalice. It was only when a freak occurrence showed Marche the way back to his old life.

On one of his missions for his Clan, Marche was transported to a strange dimension where a large crystal was housed. Before he could do anything more, a large being known as Famfrit appeared and quickly began to battle with Marche. After the being was defeated the crystal shattered and he heard his friend Mewt's cries. A voice then spoke to Marche and told him that he had destroyed one of the world thread's and that if all were destroyed then a new world would be born. He took that as his one chance to return home.

Marche would continue searching for the crystals that housed the world threads. Along the way he encountered many friends from his past that opposed him, wishing for him to stop his quest to return the world to the state it was in before. Rikz herself proved a fearsome adversary as the fought and only after Marche was victorious numerous times did she come to understand his way of thinking and join him.

After many more trials Marche slowly began to destroy the world threads, fighting against the forces of his good friend Mewt to do so. Each blow he struck against this magical world was a blow struck directly against his friend; his cries of anguish ringing out each time a crystal fell. The words of Mewt's caretaker Babus Swain would continuously haunt Marche as he continued his quest, "even if the world is fake, is it really worth causing Mewt so much pain to revert it?" Marche could not afford to be unsure of his path though, for only he could walk it.

Marche grew strong as he shattered all of the crystals holding the world together along with adventuring with his now incredibly powerful clan. He had become a hero in all rights and had even swayed his brother Donald back unto his side. The last battle was had in Mewt's palace, as it was revealed that Queen Remedi, the reincarnation of Mewt's deceased mother, was the last world thread to be severed. After destroying her Marche managed to convince Mewt to stop living a fantasy life and to bring them home to their real lives.

With a return to the unassuming snow filled town where the story began, Marche thought he had finally returned to a life of normality.

REPERTOIRE

The Judge Sword - The culmination of Marche's growth as a hero in Ivalice, this massive blade seemed effortlessly light to the young boy. It was a gift from Judgemaster Cid Randell after Marche defeated the Corrupt Judge. That blade itself strikes with incredible force befitting it's size and might have further unlocked potential waiting to be discovered by the young hero.

The Law/Anti-Law Cards - Magical creations from Ivalice that imposed rules upon battle, restricting the way one might fight. Though in a new world, Marche has retained the ability to alter combat using these cards. The effect of this is absolute within his own mini-world of Ivalice, but greatly diminishes when outside his domain.

Versatility - Through sheer will and determination Marche was able to fulfill all the jobs set before him in his time in Ivalce, being able to learn the ropes of many different classes. Though not a master of anything, he has the ability to be proficient at most everything. A Jack of all Trades.

NOTES

Will continuously add more to this as the world become more apparent.

Mewt Randell - Once Marche regains his memories, Mewt will become his biggest target. Mysteriously missing from anywhere Marche searches for him. Marche is convinced that Mewt caused them to return to some fantasy land and that with the power of the Gran Grimore they can return to their home once more. As with all Npc's it is unclear if they are the real people transported to Celestia or just beings drawn from Marche's own mind.

Ritz Malheur - One of the earlier allies that Marche will meet. She seems concerned about Marche and will help him in his quests. It's also unsure if she is the real Ritz or a phantom.

Montblanc - The first friend that Marche made the last time he visited the fantasy world won't show up until after St. Ivalice once again turns into the Country of Ivalice in Marche's mini-world. Depending on the Moogle's role he might not be the exact same Montblanc that Marche had met.

VISION

Vision for Myself:

There a lot of things that RP drive me to better about myself. This roleplay in particular offers a very interesting formula for me to attempt a more narratively focused style than I have done previously. I can take a character and organically grow them to not only create interesting works of literature for myself, but hopefully also create a character that you all fell is worth engaging with in your own literature. The final fantasy franchise in particular seems to thrive on the concept of compelling characters and I hope to capture that here.

Another core reason for joining this RP is to better myself as a writer. Considering that this RP offers something different and requires a different set of thought to be put into each post, I hope this variety will be to my betterment. To this end I would doubly love people to assist in both collaboration (as the shared experience of creating a piece of writing gives one insight into who others write) and criticism (It's honestly hard to grow without it.)

Vision for the Character:

More than a specific progression of events, I have included a number of themes that will both dictate and inform my chapters as I go forward. I might provide a more detailed structured list of events following the game until Marche becomes more aware of the nature of the world, even then his growth as a character will be informed by the thoughts below.

Player Antagonist - Just as in his origin game, Marche will eventually set out to destory this world as he knows it to return to his own. Also just like in his original game, other people inhabiting the world will probably not be super happy about it. In addition to cross-over moments where their goals both can be accomplished together, Marche can be used for tons of crossover where he plays as the antagonist for something you want to happen. As Marche becomes more and more knowledgeable about the nature of the world he finds himself in, the more he will seek to break himself out of it. If anyone has any neat idea about how this ties into an arc they are planning, I am super happy to collab on it to grow both of our characters.

Missing Memory - With his memories in complete disarray after finding himself in this new world, Marche will struggle to piece back together his jumbled up past. While reliving his first moments in the town of St. Ivalice, he will be confronted with a 'slightly-off' feeling that accompanies his deja vu. After beginning to collect himself, if only slightly, Marche would begin to struggle against this new world while attempting to put the pieces back into place of his old life.

Despair Builds - As his memories and knowledge of his predicament grow, so while Marche's despair. He fought long and hard against all of his friends to bring them back to the 'real' world and he has become stuck in another magical land without any hope of exiting. This will cause him to grow more and more jaded over time.

The Possibility of Hope - The Voice spoke to him when he shattered the crystal and once again he will follow it's commands in the hope that it will lead him home once again. This belief would only be shattered if The Voice told him such a dream was impossible, as that isn't a reality Marche can come to terms with.

Rescue his Friends - His dream to escape the reality he finds himself in is only matched by his need to reunite with his friends. Just like before he is prepared to do anything to bring them back to his side and he won't let anyone stop him.