Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ The Celestial Rise ❯ The Gift from the Three ( Chapter 6 )

The sky above her was as white as snow and yet without a definite source of light. Below her was pitch black like the center of a chasm or a moonless, starless night. The horizon was gray--dull and lifeless.

Celes stood on a circular piece of land. It was a floating island in a sea of white, gray and black emptiness. She was nowhere. It was a dream. She was very well aware of this for she had dreamt this dream before, and yet it she was unsure of how it would play out. She was neither afraid nor curious. She was relaxed and calm. She knew that she was safe. She felt that she belonged somehow.

At the center of the small island was a slab of stone with carved runes. It was a monolith, standing eerily like a gravestone. Celes moved towards it, and traced the runes with her fingers. The stone felt warm to the touch as though it was radiating heat. The symbols were ancient. She could tell just by looking at it. She did not understand what they runes meant. She couldn't read the mysterious language.

The sky above sang in gentle tones.

Fire traced the runes of the monolith. Celes drew back her hand in alarm. She didn't get hurt. The flame on the runes spread throughout the surface of the slab and dissipated as suddenly as it appeared, replacing the symbols with newer ones. From around her, a whispering voice chanted.

The slab started to grow cold. So cold that the air surrounding it chilled Celes to the bone. She could see her breath in puffs of smoke. She began to shiver slightly as she took a step back. Frost covered the slab entirely. A new set of symbols replaced the second one. Then an ominous voice from the eternal darkness below spoke in vehemence.

A powerful bolt of lightning ripped through the air and struck the monolith with a deafening clap of thunder. Celes's heart jumped, as she herself hit the ground. The monolith had split open, the top of which was vaporized into dust, debris and smoke, as a lithe, shining figure took its place.

It was a sword made of pure white substance. Her first impression was that it was ivory or maybe marble but she also had a feeling that it was neither. Whatever the substance was, it was otherworldly. It didn't look very strong; instead, it seemed very fragile. She drew closer and examined it without touching. There were no sharp edges on the blade like a kid's make-believe sword. The design, however, was clearly feminine. The sword was constructed as though it were carved from this mysterious material rather than assembled. There were no noticeable separation between the hilt and the blade. If they weren't carved then they were probably molded into shape by an unknown force.

The type of blade did not exist in the history of Terrae. The sword was definitely not in the broadsword family. The blade was narrow and elegant like a rapier's blade. But unlike the rapier, the white sword was curved and single-edged, and as mentioned before, the edge was not sharp. Also unlike normal rapiers, the white sword did not have the intricate guard. If such a sword were fashioned in the waking world, it would've been ornamental in purpose. Perhaps one could stab somebody with the white sword since the tip was pointy enough. But even then, she feared that the sword would break… even if it were made of metal.

The voices whispered together in unison, projecting the questions in her mind that she wanted to ask out loud.

The voices added more riddles. Rhetorical questions, perhaps.

Celes bravely took a step forward, obeying the voices. She feared nothing. She was as calm and serene as ever. She trusted the voices. To do otherwise seemed utter folly. She obeyed for it seemed like the most natural thing to do. As primal as survival. She gripped the sword by its hilt. It felt surprisingly comfortable to the touch. She didn't want to let go of it. She felt… protected by it. She felt invincible and impervious to the elements. She started to think that she could single-handedly defeat an army with it. The feeling wrought within her by the touch of the mystical sword was exhilarating. It gave her courage to brave the most fearsome of storms. It made her forget about the questions she had earlier. Holding the sword in her hand, the answer to the questions seemed obvious. Somehow, she knew the answers, though she could not put them into words.

The white sky, black abyss and the gray horizon suddenly started to swirl together in a dizzying display. It was like a painter mixing together the colors to produce the desired shade of gray. But with all the effort of the unknown forces of the realm, the colors would not mix as one. White stayed unblemished. Black stayed true. Gray stayed undiluted.

All around her the voices thundered their final declaration in a language that she did not understand.

As the words were recited, tendrils, wisps and vines grew from the hilt of the sword, made of the same mysterious material, wrapping around the blade in delicate patterns. Lastly, it wrapped around her hand making it impossible for her to let go. But Celes didn't fear it. She felt that she and the sword were meant to be together. Runes started to appear on the surface of the blade with symbols similar to the ones on the ruined monolith. She had the feeling that the runes spelled the previously spoken words. They were etched by fire, carved by lightning, and cooled by ice. The transformation was purely magical.

But Celes knew that the sword was not the only thing that was transformed in the process. She, too, was changed. Staring at the runes of the slender blade, she understood them all.

The ground began to tremble. She knew that the floating island was about to crumble beneath her feet and fall into… nothingness. She couldn't tell which way the pieces would fall--which way she would fall--because the colors were in constant, changing disorder. But Celes didn't care. She wasn't afraid. The aura that made her immune to fear in the realm still took its effect. Perhaps it was the sword, perhaps it was something else. But a question sparked to life in her doubtless mind.

"Who are you?"

The island broke apart into several sections. She was able to keep her balance and stay on the largest section but she knew it wouldn't stay that large for long. Still she wasn't afraid. "Who are you?" she asked again, louder this time.

The rock she was standing on shattered. She fell through the scattering debris. She felt weightless at first for she had lost her orientation of up and down. She knew she was falling, and she didn't care. She just waited patiently for an answer that did not come.

She was falling faster now. Heading to a direction that was beyond awareness. Up, down, sideways… it didn't matter. This was where the dream ended.

**********

Celes woke up with a start. She sat up abruptly, breathing rapidly as she came out of a nightmare. It was pitch black, but she knew where she was exactly. She was back in the waking world in her private quarters. She felt the pounding of her heart in her chest. She remembered the dream--the nightmare. It was all so strange. She didn't remember being afraid in the dream but she was scared now--frightened. Perspiration trickled down the side of her head and onto her cheek. She was trembling. She wanted to cry. The fear was completely irrational. Her hands were both balled to fists, clutching at the sheets of her bed. She tried to will it to relax to no avail.

A lightning flashed through her window, and thunder rolled from far away. She looked outside and saw that it was still raining. Only this time, wind, lightning and thunder joined the rhythmic ensemble. She started to calm a bit. She hoped that she wasn't coming up with a fever.

She sighed. Great! How am I going to get back to sleep now?