Lucrecia - 1995
The town of Pinos wasn't immediately visible once they left the forest behind them, but Lucrecia lifted her eyes to the mountains, picking out its direction by the now-familiar ridgeline. She'd grown to anticipate these excursions, as anxious as they made Ifalna.
Lucrecia was the one who had convinced her of the importance of keeping tabs on Shinra. Those first few years by the river, they'd kept entirely to themselves. They'd only discovered news of the war well after it had begun, from Lucrecia's first cautious foray into Kalm.
She'd practiced for months beforehand, until she could be certain that she could make herself invisible on command, and she'd gone alone, that time. In the years since, Sephiroth had honed his own illusions, surpassing what seemed to be the limit of her ability. Unlike her, he could disguise himself, although he'd only been able to copy the appearances of those he'd seen.
Their power still unnerved Ifalna--these were the tools by which Jenova had deceived her ancestors--but she acknowledged its usefulness all the same. There was no risk in being found if no one could see them.
Still, Lucrecia never blamed her for not wanting to come on these trips. She didn't need to volunteer to put herself under that power. Lucrecia didn't like the idea of it either; it was one thing to deceive strangers, another to do it to Ifalna.
They were hundreds of miles now from Kalm and their river hideaway. As more people made their way to Midgar--convinced either that they needed its protection or that it needed theirs--she and Ifalna had made the decision to put more distance between themselves and Shinra's stronghold. They had left their first home together behind and travelled slowly south.
Pinos was the nearest civilization now, a little town outside the western entrance to the mythril mines. Kalm had claimed all rights to the mine some years ago, leaving the out-of-work men of Pinos easy prey for Shinra's war propaganda. By now, there wasn't anyone left to recruit, and on their forays into the town, the only Shinra soldiers she and Sephiroth had encountered were those home on leave.
"You really think Ifalna doesn't know?" Sephiroth asked her, picking up the thread of a conversation she'd hoped he would drop on coming out into the open. "Aeris knows."
"Aeris knows because you told her!" Lucrecia reminded him. "I'm lucky a ten-year-old is better at keeping secrets than you are."
"I just don't keep them from her," he said. "You always think she's too young to know things."
"I really don't think it's any of her business this time."
"Isn't it?"
Lucrecia threw him a look. She shouldn't have confided in him in the first place, but then, he'd noticed it on his own. "It isn't as though anything will come of it."
"Why not?"
"Well, if Ifalna knows and she hasn't said anything, then obviously she doesn't want anything to change."
Sephiroth eyed her skeptically. "Maybe she's waiting for you to be ready," he suggested.
As if she ever could be, or ought to be. Her relationships as a young woman had flared out dramatically, and her marriage had continued that pattern and dialed up its intensity. She had only ever hinted at her failures to Sephiroth, privately agonizing over what to tell him should he ever ask about his father. The longer he went without asking, the more certain she became that he already knew.
She wondered what he thought of her for it, and didn't want to know that answer either. So they both went on not asking.
"Nothing's going to come of it," Lucrecia reiterated.
"...I think it would be okay," Sephiroth said softly.
She let it lie. He was seventeen and didn't know what he was talking about.
But then, her friendship with Ifalna was unlike anything she'd ever had before. Ifalna had known her worst mistakes from the outset, they had shared the worst experiences of their life, and they had escaped them together. There were no secrets to keep, except for what this feeling had grown into.
Was it a dangerous thing? It always had been before. But maybe it was because she'd been so starved for it, she didn't know how to seek love in moderation. Now she'd lived for years on a steady diet of it from her little family. Not the same kind of love, but maybe it made her... steadier. Maybe it could make her ready.
Maybe that was a bad idea.
As the town came into view, she and Sephiroth wordlessly wrapped themselves in illusion. She became invisible, while Sephiroth took on the appearance of some woman he'd seen in the north. He hadn't yet mastered his voices, but a young man would have stood out in a place where all the young men had gone. He got by trading for the supplies they needed by gesturing, and they didn't need to speak to listen.
The woman behind the counter at the general store recognized Sephiroth--or rather the disguise he wore--and smiled warmly in welcome. Lucrecia wished it was a reaction he could experience with his own face.
The shopkeeper accepted their hides and surplus produce and counted up how much gil they were worth, knowing it would mostly be spent in her store. What they traded was never worth much, but they never needed much. Soaps and flour, a cheap sketchbook and a small bag of fudge as a treat. On the way out, Sephiroth picked over the little take-a-book-leave-a-book box by the door and swapped for a new handful.
They walked the main street slowly, listening for chatter and picking up a copy of the latest paper at the post office newsstand. Still pinned to the bulletin board nearby, half-hidden behind more recent flyers, was the old wanted poster they'd seen circulated painting her as some kind of kidnapper. Lucrecia recognized her picture as the one she'd taken for her ID badge, but the others Hojo must have taken in the lab as he catalogued his specimens. They had a copy folded up inside an old notebook, the only photos they were ever likely to have of Aeris and Sephiroth as children.
There was no one chatting at the post office, and the streets seemed emptier than usual, but Lucrecia didn't make anything of it until she spotted the trucks with the familiar logo parked outside of the town hall.
Her hand gripped Sephiroth's arm, and they both stopped. Sephiroth looked down, and Lucrecia followed his gaze, tracing tire tracks behind them west out of town, the road back towards Junon.
Sephiroth took a step forward, but Lucrecia gave his arm a tug towards the nearest alley. They slipped down it first, and Sephiroth dropped his disguise in favor of full invisibility. There were no chances to be taken with Shinra.
A few people glanced over as she and Sephiroth entered the town hall, confusion flitting across their faces as the door opened and closed without apparently admitting anyone, but the presentation on the small stage soon recaptured their attention.
A woman stood there, flanked by Shinra soldiers standing at ease. She was young, blonde, her figure accentuated by a revealing red dress that invited you to look but absolutely not to touch. Lucrecia had read about her in the papers: Scarlet, a woman who had ascended to the Directorship of Weapons Development near the start of the war. If she had worked in the department during Lucrecia's brief tenure, then their paths had never crossed.
Seeing her now in person, commanding the room with ease, Lucrecia was startled by a flash of jealousy. The first woman on Shinra's board of directors, a distinction she herself had failed to achieve. How ruthless had Scarlet had to be in claiming it? How many bodies had she stepped over?
Being a part of that monstrosity was nothing to envy, but at the same time, there was one man Lucrecia wished she had been able to put into an early grave.
Scarlet was reaching the end of her presentation. Her voice carried over the assembled townsfolk without need of a microphone. "So when your brave men secure Wutai's surrender," she was saying, "you can all rest assured they'll come home to a better life, their livelihoods guaranteed by Shinra, Inc."
As if Shinra ever guaranteed anything good.
Scarlet opened up the floor to questions. The first townsperson wanted to know if the war dragging on might cause delays in construction. Another asked for clarification on the proposed construction site and its distance from the town, citing concerns about Midgar's smog.
The smog caused by the reactors.
She and Sephiroth stood listening as the discussion went on, and Lucrecia's mind turned. A reactor for Pinos. The similarly-positioned nothing town of Nibelheim had made out all right, but that had been Shinra's first reactor, built in an era when they'd had less power to throw around. Would anyone's livelihood really be guaranteed? There would be conditions and loopholes in the fine print, and Shinra would buy the land cheap, using it as a foothold in their expansion. Someone would benefit, but it wouldn't be these people.
Scarlet and her men left the hall first, and the aging town headman quieted his people in her wake, reminding them of an upcoming meeting where the issue would be decided. They had until then to think over the proposal for themselves.
Lucrecia and Sephiroth slipped out ahead of the townsfolk and made their way quietly and swiftly back out of Pinos. All the while, Lucrecia felt the presence of the Shinra trucks at her back, as though she was being driven ahead of them. There was no sound of engines turning over, and every glance told her they hadn't moved.
They didn't speak or drop their illusions until they were safe within the cover of the trees, well out of sight.
"How long does it take to build a reactor?" Sephiroth wondered.
Lucrecia shook her head. "These days, I don't know. The Nibel reactor took years, but... It wasn't my department."
He was looking back in the direction of the town, frowning faintly. "...are we going to have to leave again?"
She didn't answer him. They both knew Ifalna would insist on it. Another migration to keep them safe from Shinra, leaving behind any familiarities. Sephiroth didn't get to walk Pinos as himself, but he had walked it, and there were people he'd come to know a little. A glimpse of a community and what it could be for people who didn't have to hide themselves.
Lucrecia curled her fingers tight. "...let's get home," she said.
They were careful not to wear any obvious paths through the forest to their camp. Lucrecia had struggled longest with finding her way, and even now she left it to Sephiroth to lead them back. She'd lived her life among roads and buildings with clear signs, maybe for too long ever to adapt as well as him. But it heartened her that he knew his way through places that weren't metal corridors.
Ifalna sat outside the lean-to, fingers busy mending one of Aeris's dresses. Her eyes were downcast, focused on her work.
She was beautiful, but Lucrecia never said it. She'd grown to hate the compliment in her younger days. When her classmates and colleagues had said it, she knew it was the beginning and end of what they thought of her.
Hojo was the only man who never seemed to care what she looked like. She'd liked that about him. When things got bad, when Vincent had called her beautiful, she'd thought for a little while that maybe it was the better compliment after all. Safer, if he only wanted what he saw, instead of all of her.
Lucrecia wanted more from Ifalna than what was on the surface.
Ifalna looked up at their approach, but her usual relief at their safe return was dampened by their expressions. "Something's happened," she observed.
Lucrecia turned to Sephiroth. "Why don't you go find Aeris?" she suggested. "Ifalna and I will talk it over."
"...I don't want to leave," he said.
"I know." Lucrecia brushed his hair back from his face, the face so few ever got to see. "We'll decide what's best."
Sephiroth studied her expression, seemed to note her resolve, and nodded. He dropped his pack outside the lean-to and walked off towards the garden.
Lucrecia sat down with Ifalna. "We haven't been discovered," she assured her first. "There was a delegation from Shinra in town, presenting a proposal to build a reactor."
Ifalna stilled, then hooked her needle into the fabric of the dress and set it aside. "A reactor in Pinos?"
"Not in the town proper. The proposed site is some miles farther south."
"I'm surprised they bothered to ask permission."
Lucrecia shrugged. "It makes them look better, and it's probably an easy win. The townspeople sound like they're going to accept."
"...then we'll have to be moving on soon," Ifalna said, predictably.
"Will we?"
"It's Shinra."
Lucrecia looked out into the trees. A recent string of dry days had browned patches of the canopy, but there weren't places this green near Midgar anymore. "What if we could convince them to turn Shinra away?"
"Convince them?" Ifalna repeated incredulously. "You mean reveal ourselves to them?"
"They don't have to know who we are. We won't risk the children, and we'll--"
"You think we won't attract notice just by speaking out against Shinra at all?" Ifalna interrupted. "That's not something people do here."
Lucrecia fell silent. With so many of the men here away at war, the townspeople might well call them Wutai sympathizers. And maybe Ifalna was right. If they did this, even if they did convince the townspeople, the attention would mean they'd need to move on again anyway.
"...do you think I'm a coward?" Ifalna asked softly.
"What?" Lucrecia looked back at her. "No, of course not."
Ifalna was staring at her lap, wringing her hands. "The Planet is crying out for help, and I... I'm only thinking about my daughter. I've let my duty as a mother supersede my duty as a Cetra."
It had taken Ifalna a long time to say much about what it meant to be a Cetra. Lucrecia had recognized early on that even free from the lab, Ifalna didn't like to be asked about it, so she'd waited for what she volunteered on her own. The treasure trove of knowledge that Gast must have unlocked, Lucrecia saw first in the way the land thrived under Ifalna's touch wherever they went.
And still, all they left in their wake were tiny oases, bound to fall back into ruin.
"...that isn't fair to you," she said.
"What?"
Lucrecia shook her head. "If the Cetra were still a thriving culture, or even a single community, it wouldn't all fall to you. You could be a mother, and others would tend to the Planet. But it's just you. Just us..."
Ifalna bit her lip. "There's no future for the Cetra," she said. "Not really. We'll dwindle into nothing..."
"But there can be a future for Aeris. We can't ever let Shinra take them back there. But... It always feels like there isn't any way to do what's best for them. Hiding them from Shinra, we cut them off from everything."
"So you want to make a stand?"
"I don't know. A small one, maybe. If Shinra doesn't take Pinos, isn't the world a little safer for them? Even if this time, we still have to leave."
Ifalna looked at her, and her brow was still furrowed with worry, but she said, "All right."
"All right?" Lucrecia repeated, brightening.
Ifalna nodded. "I don't want to run so far that there's nowhere left to run."
When it came time for the next town hall meeting, they left Sephiroth to look after Aeris. Both children understood they were to leave if their mothers didn't return, assuming capture, but Lucrecia wondered if they really would, if it came down to it. Aeris had a rebellious streak, and Sephiroth was growing confident in his abilities.
It just wouldn't come to that.
They were careful on the approach, Lucrecia cloaking them both in invisibility while Ifalna gripped her hand. It was as though she sought comfort from Lucrecia for the very thing Lucrecia was inflicting on her. They circled around to the north of the town, approaching from the direction of the mythril mines. Lucrecia dropped her illusion, and for the first time in years, they faced being seen as themselves.
The Shinra trucks were still parked outside town hall, but there were no soldiers in the street, and Scarlet was nowhere to be seen. Lucrecia gave Ifalna's hand a squeeze before they stepped into the building, but the Shinra weren't inside either. Waiting at the town's modest inn, perhaps, for the verdict.
A few people looked over as the door opened, and even the brief glances made her skin prickle. Ifalna never let go of her hand. But if anyone recognized them from that half-hidden wanted poster on the bulletin board, they didn't show it.
They took seats in the back of the hall. Lucrecia wondered if the townspeople might reject the reactor on their own, allowing them to sit through this without ever having to speak up. There was a chance of that, wasn't there?
A few more people trickled in after them, and then the town headman began the meeting. Some concerns were voiced, but the talk leaned more towards the jobs Shinra had promised, and what modernity Mako might bring to their town.
She could feel Ifalna tense beside her, her breathing measured as she tried to work up the courage to interrupt. Lucrecia stood.
"I would like to say a few words, if I may," she said. At the headman's nod, she went on, "I'm not from your town, so I know I have no say in your decision, but I do have experience with Shinra. You can't trust what they've presented you, from the contract to the environmental studies. They only want to make a show of doing this above-board."
"And what are your credentials, to discount them?" wondered the headman.
"...I used to work for them," Lucrecia said. "And I lived in Midgar for a time. I don't know if any of you have ever been to Midgar..." She glanced over the crowd, at the faces now turned in her direction. There were a few nods.
"I went once," one woman volunteered. "It was incredible, like nothing I'd ever seen."
"Incredible, maybe," Lucrecia conceded, "but at what cost? Did you see the wasteland that surrounds it? Shinra's told you that Mako energy is not only plentiful, but limitless. This is a lie. It will dry up eventually, and your land with it."
"That's just Wutain propaganda," said another woman. "We all know there's air pollution from the reactors, but it's still cleaner than coal."
Lucrecia stared at her. "You think I'm making up the wasteland?"
"I think it's got nothing to do with the reactors. They have a reactor near Junon, too, and nothing's wrong with their land."
"She's right," another woman chimed in. "I was in Junon just last month."
Lucrecia shook her head. "The Junon reactor is much newer, and there's only the one."
"They only mean to build one reactor here, you know. Even if you were right, one reactor wouldn't be the kind of drain on the land as you're saying it is in Midgar."
Ifalna got to her feet. "It isn't only about land," she said, a quaver in her voice that failed to steady as she went on. "Maybe you'll be fine for a while, decades even, before your crops start to fail. But the energy the reactors take is the lifeblood of this Planet and everything on it, including you."
The women exchanged glances. "Doesn't that make it ours to use as we see fit?"
"No, you don't understand. You're using it up. Everyone you've ever loved and lost, they become a part of that Lifestream. When it gets drawn out by the reactors, that's the end of them. They cease to exist in any form."
"Now you're just bringing old-fashioned superstition into it. We can't base a decision on what a few people think happens when we die."
"They're dead anyway," added an older man. "Reactor or no reactor, they aren't coming back."
Ifalna looked helplessly to Lucrecia.
"It isn't superstition," Lucrecia stated. "There is science supporting the cycle of the Lifestream, but Shinra won't give you the data. At the very least, consider waiting until you've had the opportunity to search it out for yourselves. Confirm what we've been telling you."
"If we reject the reactor, Shinra will take their proposal to another town. They already took our mines."
"You can survive without Shinra," said Ifalna.
"Shinra is the sign of the times," one woman said. "You say they're lying to us, but our men are sending money home. Our men are fighting for progress, and I don't want them coming back here to find it's left them all behind."
"It isn't progress," said Lucrecia. "It only looks like it."
The town headman lifted his hand, locked eyes with Lucrecia, and gestured for her to sit down. "I think you've both said your piece. Would anyone else like to speak before we put it to a vote?"
They voted by a show of hands: those against the reactor, and those in favor. At just a glance over the assembly, Lucrecia couldn't have told the difference, but when she counted...
"Then it's settled," said the headman. "We'll accept Shinra's proposal."
Lucrecia leapt to her feet. "You--"
Ifalna's fingers caught her wrist, trembling, urgent. They couldn't afford to draw any more attention to themselves.
"...you'll regret this," she muttered, and let Ifalna lead her from the hall.
A pair of Shinra soldiers loitered outside. Ifalna's grip went white-knuckle, and Lucrecia yanked invisibility around them. It would have been a stupid move, but the soldiers weren't facing them, and no one else was in the street. The door had shut behind them.
Someone's chocobo tied up outside warked in surprise, and the soldiers looked their way--looked right through them. Lucrecia exhaled silently and tugged on Ifalna's hand. They walked carefully past the soldiers, and then took the fastest route out of town.
They pressed on until they reached the cover of the forest, where Lucrecia let her illusion drop.
Ifalna stopped. "I'm sorry, I need a moment," she said, and sank to the ground.
Lucrecia let out a furious huff and set to pacing where the underbrush allowed. "Those idiots," she muttered. "They know Shinra took their mines, and they'll still trust Shinra to get them out of the situation it put them in in the first place. They could have at least delayed the vote a few days to try to do some research. They think they already know the downsides, but they're just--" She stopped herself. "...Ifalna?"
"I'll be all right."
Ifalna wasn't just resting; she had curled in on herself, still shaking all over. Lucrecia knelt down in front of her and settled her hands on Ifalna's shoulders. Unexpectedly, Ifalna pitched into her, wrapping her arms around her and burying her face in Lucrecia's shoulder.
"...we were close, though, weren't we?" she mumbled.
"We were close," Lucrecia agreed. She hesitated. "We didn't stop this one, but... maybe the next one."
"What next one?"
"I don't know where, but there's going to be a next one. But Junon will dry up, and Pinos will dry up, and then they might remember that we tried to warn them. They'll realize they should have listened. And there will be more of them than just the two of us."
"...you don't really believe that," Ifalna observed. "But it's a nice thought."
She didn't believe it. People didn't like to admit when they were wrong, so the people here would likely spend years pretending they didn't see the problems once they began. Then again, it had been far from a unanimous vote.
"I don't know. It isn't likely, but it's feasible." Many things were like that. Ifalna was beginning to relax in her arms. "Maybe I just don't want to think I put you through this for nothing."
Ifalna pulled back, shaking her head. "I don't regret trying. We were right to try."
"You're a mess," Lucrecia pointed out.
"But... I'm not a coward." Ifalna brushed tears from her face. "You're always so fearless."
Lucrecia shook her head. "I'm scared, too."
"Are you?"
She glanced away. Of course she was afraid of Shinra, but when she was angry enough, she forgot to be. For those times when she lost clarity, she was more scared of herself than anything around them.
"After all this time," Ifalna said gently, "you still think you're going to ruin things for us?"
"I put us in danger today. Shinra could have caught us."
"Or, we could have defeated them here," said Ifalna. "It was only a few hands away. That outcome would have been your doing, too, but you only ever see the negative."
"The negative result is usually what I get," Lucrecia said wryly.
"Maybe that used to be true."
"You're so sure it's changed?"
"I am." Ifalna smiled enigmatically, and Lucrecia's heart stumbled a beat. "Ask me, when you're ready to."
Sephiroth was right. She did already know.