Simplicity Chapter 1 - Voices

[Oerba Yun Fang [The Desperado]]

I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I found so far
Their laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me
- Snow Patrol, Set fire to the Third Bar

 

Chapter I  
To be so completely lost in thought and lost in reverie is a rare thing for anyone these days. But sometimes for Fang being lost in these thoughts was her only form of solace in this cruel world. Standing tall, a darkened silhouette against the pale silver of the moon she was static, statuesque in her form. Head bowed ever so slightly as if silently mourning a loss that was her own to face and her own to deal with.
 
One year. One year since she had fallen back into crystal slumber and awoken again. However, today marked the five hundred and one year anniversary since the loss of her village and its people to the hands of the viper forces. When she had not been able to protect what she loved and watched it torn away from her in a sort of brutality that only those whom had seen the ugly face of war rear its head would ever be remotely familiar with. It was a day like today, where she wasn’t surrounded by the warmth of her family, of her friends that she fell into this sort of pit. Where she found that even now, five hundred years later she was still as lost as she was when she was twenty one originally. That was another time though, and even though she had been lost on her journey she knew the outcome of whatever she chose. She would serve to support her village and protect it from the impending dangers of the viper forces.
 
But that was then, and this was now. And now she had no village to protect, she wasn’t lost on some wild adventure defying the fal’cie and kicking ass. No, now everything was at peace for the most part and she was now left with time to think, time to address the loss of direction she had in her life. The time of year seemed to match the mood she found herself in, the desolate winters of Gran Pulse were harsh and left many areas covered in hefty amounts of the fluffy white stuff that used to bring many smiles to her when she was a child. Now, as she stood clad in a winter styled outfit, abandoning her sari for the time she remained outside for a pair of not skin tight, but tight enough jeans, a long sleeved shirt, a jet black jacket and a sapphire colored scarf. Her jaded gaze was fixated on something that had not changed in the time she had been gone. In a glade, standing atop a small hill and surrounded by the thick evergreen foliage she looked at twin monuments that had gone untouched by the hands of time.
 
It was a rare thing for her to want to break down, even when she was alone. She was by no means a weak woman but even the strongest people break down eventually. Perhaps it was the season, the late December air chilling her straight to the core. The chill of complete solitude coupled with the season wrenched her heart in half. The monuments she continued to look at, and reflect on belonged to her parents. No, not the ‘parents’ she had in the Yun family. No, her biological parents that she remembered so vividly, and even ached to speak to again she may be the protector, the older sibling, the second in command, but even she had her moments where she missed her mother and father. Moments where she felt like a little girl again, wishing she had the arms of her parents to run back to when she felt unstable, unsure.
 
Somebody to talk to, relate to, someone who wouldn’t judge her for when she showed her humanity for what it was for what she was on the inside after all it wasn’t all the time she could be the tough go-getter huntress. Above everything, and yet despite it being above everything nobody saw it, nobody truly respected it; she was a woman. It was the holiday season; Vanille had taken it upon herself to acquaint the gang with Pulsian customs and holidays such as this one. This was the holiday that celebrated the goodwill of people towards one another, and when the fal’cie Anima would have on normal circumstances blessed the village and protected it from the wildlife outside of the village. Except it wasn’t normal circumstances anymore, it was not normal after she and Vanille awoke again in the wrong era.
 
In her silent reverie as she paid her respects to the people who meant more to her than words would have ever been able to convey, it was becoming more noticeable that she was breaking down, that she was cracking again. Her breaths were unsteady; it showed in the way the air condensed with every exhalation she took. Jaded eyes finally moved from the monuments she had painstakingly hand crafted in Oerba and then hauled to the place where she knew her parents now rested after that brutal assault on everything she loved. Now, had Fang never grown up to be the huntress she was now known to be, she would have been an artisan, as each of the monuments had been hand crafted from blocks of wood she had spent every dime she ever made when she was ten years old on. She treated them to resist weathering and carved them both with her hands. The sweet seclusion and silence however was going to eventually be interrupted. She knew that much, but what she did not expect was who decided to follow her into the glade.
 
It didn’t matter how many people were around her, how many people she was really with. What really went on inside of the huntress was something that she knew and only she needed to know. It was an empty place inside of her, the masks she had grown so familiar to wearing were fake warmth, things she had learned to act and perfect through her years. Inside it was like this glade, dark, cold and desolate, everything she was and nothing all floated within the core of this supposed concrete steadfast huntress. How wrong they were, how completely and utterly wrong they had been, and yet they had no right to be able to be right about her. Nobody truly took the time to even attempt to look past the masks she so obviously wore, or at least it was obvious to her. Their complete ignorance to what she was really had been a savior and a killer in the end. Now as she stood here staring into the sky, studded with silver spheres that glittered like the snow she stood in she had nobody to listen and know just what was going on within her mind.
 
The thoughts to just fade away from everyone else’s supposed happy lives was an all to tempting thing, the thought of just slowly dissipating like the early morning fog she walked through to get to her work. Nobody really needed her around anymore anyway, Vanille now lived with Hope and Bartholomew, Snow and Serah had each other, Sazh had found himself a woman and Dajh a new step-mother and even Lightning. Even the person that she held so dearly to her was smiling now, and her hatred for Snow ever diminishing. What place did she have in a family like that? She wasn’t sure, hell she wasn’t sure of anything anymore but she guessed that was besides the fact. She stared at the sky and sighed, watching the air she exhaled with every breath condense and fade away from her sight… She didn’t understand how it finally got this bad; she didn’t want to understand it in a sense. It hurt, to feel the way she did, this hollow place in her chest that seemed to be completely void of anything, void of emotion, of light, and it was all to often that the outgoing, jovial huntress fell into this pit. Perhaps it was the fact she refused to let go of certain things, refused to let go of the memories she held so dear to her, refused to let go of what time did to everything she knew…

Fang, if she spoke to you, she could tell you in vivid detail about the failure that was had marked its anniversary today, she could tell you just what the vipers whom had massacred everything and everyone she had ever loved looked like, what their voices sounded like down to the last detail. Why? The huntress would never reveal the secrets that caused such pain, that tore her to bits within, she would never tell you about how they took her as a prisoner at the ripe age of eight years old and did things, unspeakable things to her, defiled her, made her feel like she was the piece of shit that they kept calling her. Emerald eyes finally tore themselves from the sky and to a hollow piece of wood that sit by her feet, something she had carved many years ago by hand. A flute, and as she put the instrument to her lips, it was as if the entirety of the forest suddenly quieted to listen to the lonesome lingering notes of a lone flute in the night.

Despite being a hunter, Fang had many other not well known talents, many of which involved using her hands she created life from the seemingly dead chunks of wood you could find in the ruins of her old home, and in the shops of the town nearby that was named in honor of the old town. The flute’s lilt drifted through the night, calling out to anyone who would listen, the song melancholy, lonesome, crying out the emotions within the huntress’s soul. Nobody would ever have guessed Fang to have a talent in music, but back when she took care of people’s children (as it was a job for women in the village whom weren’t married); Fang had learned to use her voice and her flute well. Vanille hadn’t ever heard Fang sing, or even touch an instrument. This, as she played her song was a private ritual nobody dared ever invade or even ask about, when Fang said she was going out for a while nobody questioned. Part of her wished they would, anyone would, wished that they’d ask her where she was going, or what she would be doing… but they were all to busy with their own lives, to busy to notice just what was going on within her.

It was this sort of blindness that in a way drove her nuts, the way they could just sit there in ignorance while people so plainly suffered. Perhaps she was just too perceptive, to keen on other’s emotions and mental states that she expected at least the same support from someone, anyone for that matter when she ended up in these ruts. Then again perhaps it was her own fault for not so openly expressing these things, for keeping all of this within her and letting it fester like an old open wound. Standing here, she ached for someone, anyone to just give her a hug, to bring her into them; she didn’t want to be the one who was strong all the time. But she always told herself, ‘to bloody hell with my wants, they’re more important.’ However it was that train of thought that was pushing her to these thoughts to just fade away while everyone was finally happy with their lives. Fang herself was not sure how these thoughts had gone from just minor whispers into her mind to a full blown battle cry ringing in her head constantly while they were around. Eyes closed for a little while to calm herself, or at least attempt to, after all she couldn’t go back to the party with tear streaked cheeks; smile and say ‘Hey guys! How’re ya doin’?’ No, that wouldn’t do. So as she stole a last glance at the statues, the monuments she had carved on her own, the things that meant the world to her in a different sense than the family she had now. No, the child within her, the side of her she forced back, forced into purgatory until the days like these arrive and she was reminded with her failures to save even her parents when the Fang nobody sees would emerge in private, in protected solitude. The broken remains of a childhood torn to bits by war, and then haphazardly put back together and bound with the wrong sort of glue. It wasn’t worth it, to go back there; after all she didn’t want to be daisy downer during what was supposed to be a happy time. So as she stepped away from the hill Fang made sure to avoid the Farron residence and just head back to her own place for a while. It was a long trek however back to the New Oerba, and it was getting late.

She wouldn’t be lolly-gagging this time at least. As winter nasties can be worse than the nasties that appear during summer and dry months. At least during the summer months the ground was flat and open and you had a fair chance at running from whatever was chasing you, in the winter, the obscene levels of snow prevented such escape and you would be a sitting duck for anything that was nearby be it a behemoth that somehow was awoken from its normally seasonal hibernation, or an angry boss from your boring-ass job that you bitched out for being such a complete dickhead. She held what she could inside, now that she had taken the edge off of what could have been the worst mood she had ever found herself to be in inwardly. Fang spied the distant lights of New-Oerba and rolled her eyes; it may have her old home’s name, but it sure as hell was far from what the true Oerba looked like. Even now, she was walking through her old home, flute in tow letting the nostalgia buffet and assault her like the frigid winds of Gran Pulse were doing quite well.

It was crazy the way she didn’t let anything save her, let anyone reach out to her when they attempted it. Fang would never openly admit it to anyone, never admit it to even the most understanding person on the land that she was so afraid to let anyone in that she lashed out at the people she cared about the most. She cared so much for her family that when someone would ask if she was okay, she would just ignore them or change the subject to something that would pique their interest more than just her personal state of mind. Fang hated herself for it, hated the fact that she wished someone would make the effort to reach a hand out for her and yet when it happened she was to afraid to trust them, to afraid to even attempt to reach out and instead would bite the hand that fed her in a figurative sense of course. Her heart she could liken it in a poetic sense to that of a caged bird, to that of something that ached to be free, that had been confined for so many years that now as the cage door was opened was now completely afraid, completely and utterly afraid beyond what could have ever been expected.

The bitter cold held no weight when she compared it to what she felt when she passed the Farron residence and heard the laughter of everyone around, so what if she was alone this holiday? She could deal with that, it was no different than when she was a child, before Vanille that was. She existed on her own, completely shutting out those asshole kids that surrounded her, so now she drifted to her home like a ghost floating upon the wind. However what she saw she didn’t expect. Lightning Farron had invited herself into her home and had just exited the kitchen with two mugs of tea, as if she knew that Fang would have been arriving back home. Fang at first regarded the soldier with a bit of curiosity as she shed her jacket in favor of the form fitting black tee shirt she wore underneath with the longer sleeved white tee shirt under that. Then as she sat down she felt the soldier’s demeanor change, Fang must have been blessed with some sort of empathic power because as she sat down and raised the mug to her lips she paused and set it down again and turned to the soldier. Their communication could be wordless; she knew she understood Lightning’s wordless signals better than even Serah. The huntress pushed the hidden Fang away again and looked at the soldier, there were certain things Fang understood about her body language, and as she reached out and wrapped her arms about the elder Farron’s waist and pulled her in close for a hug; she knew Lightning had something on her mind.

It was beyond a rare thing to see Lightning in a state such as this, however, what was even more surprising was the words she began to speak in such a manner that even if her tone was anything but threatening, it coaxed; persuaded her into doing what she was asked. “Fang, something is very wrong, with you. It’s so plainly obvious that I couldn’t not act on it now…” A flaxen colored hand reached up and rested itself ever so gently on the huntress’ cheek that was fast heating up and not because she had drank too much of the tea, no. Blood was rushing to her cheeks in a very rapid manner, and she stared at Light without much intent to speak, and yet the steel blue eyes were much softer, far softer than what they had been around her before. She seemed to have a genuine concern for Fang that it was almost touching in a way, to see her so honestly care about another human other than her sister. Lightning’s voice was softer, and it still commanded her to do what she asked. “You can talk to me. I can’t tell you how many times I heard that from your mouth, well it applies vice versa…”

“An’ yer body’s speakin’ volumes Sunshine. There’s somethin' bothering ya as well." her voice was soft, contemplative a calm sort of fear as she tried to gracefully avoid the earlier question. Lightning looked at her with a rather unamused expression, obviously not tolerant of Fang's tendency to jump around questions that pertained to her. The sapphire gaze that she felt boring into her something that was going to drive her insane, drive her mad. Lightning wanted to know what was going on, what really made the huntress who she was. Fang hated it when relationships of any kind got this complicated. Friends, lovers, she'd left many of them in the dust the moment they tried to get into her soul. Fang was called a heartbreaker for reasons that were superficial in their grounds, her somewhat dashing smile and heroic mannerisms had many women in old Oerba swooning over her. Back then when she was young and carefree... mostly. People never understood Fang's fears, never bothered to learn them, just knew Fang as that outgoing fearless huntress that would kill a behemoth with her bare hands to keep Vanille safe. The contact that still lingered on her cheek as she felt the hand leave her face and the soldier maneuver away from the her person

The soldier now sat upon the third cushion from Fang, leaving the middle on empty, a void that maybe would eventually be closed. The separation was a bit symbolic in Fang's mind it was as close as she'd let anyone emotionally. She'd let them in until they were a hairsbreadth, on the cusp of learning about Fang for who she was. Lightning's eyes wandered to a small statue resting on the table and she picked it up. Obviously it had been carved by someone with an experienced hand, someone who's eye for detail was unrivaled, and whose touch was as delicate as the pure white flowers that now grew in fields outside of this city. It was a dragon figurine, something Lightning had found to be a common decoration around the Yun residence; perhaps to Fang her only connection to her identity she had left at this moment. Lightning admired the details carved ever-so-carefully into the wooden dragon, whom was standing in a rather majestic pose, head raised to the sky bellowing out a powerful roar, wings outstretched as it showed off not only its majesty but power. After the careful scrutiny Lightning decided to ask a question. "Did you make this?"

Fang sighed, she personally didn't wish to talk at this very moment but there was no arguing with Lightning and most of all, no lying. So she put on her best cocky smile and nodded. "Yeah, what of it? Can't a lady do a little more than just kill beasties out there?" Lightning nodded, and then leaned over; pressing her lips to the Pulsian's with a soft force, gentle pressure and pulled away only to whisper in her ear;

“Yeah Fang, they can.”

“L-Lightning?”

“..hm?”

“Don’t go.”

[Oerba Yun Fang [The Desperado]]

There's a place I like to go
where I can hear the cotton grow
Midnight train whistles blow
A dozen miles down the road
all I have to do is be still

There's a place I love to be
Momma, Daddy, my sister and me
First time I ever saw the beach
Back to 1983
And all I have to do is just be still


- Tim McGraw, Still

Chapter II

[/i]

Conflict, the voices of reason and emotion will always be fighting within you. For Fang, that was a fight that not only had been going on for far too long, but actually had evolved into an all out war. That war created rules the huntress followed without fail. But what happens when just once she breaks those rules? Perhaps when we feel it all fall apart, is when we gain the most wisdom in our lives. [/i]

Don't go, such a simple command, something that would change the course of what the two warriors perceived from each other. Lightning had drawn herself away from Fang, sitting back on her cushion, now observing the huntress who honestly looked like a she was fighting with every ounce of strength not to speak of something that her eyes screamed. Lightning heard the silent plea, and now only waited for Fang to heed it as well. The rose haired woman reached to the table and picked up her mug, and placed it to her lips. The tea had cooled down to a drinkable temperature and as she took a sip she was rather... surprised at the taste of it. The sensation that danced along her palate was something she had never experienced, it tasted spicy, like the cinnamon that was inside of the cookies Serah had baked... and sweet like the kiss that still lingered on her lips.

It warmed her, and it seemed that with a heavy sigh Fang was ready to speak. The huntress was quite uncomfortable; apparently it was something she didn't even speak to Vanille about. Perhaps, Lightning in her ignorance however never really calculated how much she knew about the huntress compared to her red-haired compatriot. " 's a losin' fight to try an' bullshit my way outta this one." Fang laughed dryly "So ya wanna know what's been tearin' me up?" Light raised a brow, but kept herself quiet withholding any speech until she found it appropriate to speak. "Today’s not jus' the holidays fer me there Sunshine. Today, five hundred an' a few years ago is the anniversary of somethin' I'll never forgive myself for." Fang's eyes lingered on Lightning's figure as the soldier silently told her to continue. "Light, I let hundreds of people die... An' killed thousands more..." So, that's what was on her mind eh? Lightning leaned over once more; even Fang had her demons that haunted her.

"It doesn't make you a monster." The soldier's voice was resolute, was completely assuring in its tone, and yet Fang pushed away the comment ignoring it. This however, didn't amuse the soldier, perhaps it was the militant side of her showing when her soft gaze turned icy, almost dangerous as she looked Fang dead in the eye, "Had you been a monster, I would have killed you long ago." The comment earned a grin from the warrior as she considered the soldier's comment. Obviously there was something humorous in the icy words and the threat that the soldier posed against her.

"An' knowin' ya, I wouldn't 'ave put it past ya t'do somethin' like that Sunshine." The soldier smirked; she was triumphant against these demons of the warrior for now at least. However she still in the long while she knew Fang was not used to the open physicality she used to express her affections for everyone. Yet unlike the jovialness of her usual banter, this was different in a weird sense. It was the same Fang, yet she got a whole different feeling when she found the arms hold her in a tight embrace. And for once, no, she didn't want to be held by the huntress, she felt no need to be held. So, without much effort she broke the embrace only to switch it. Fang was in far more need of this than her. In ways, Lightning she felt lost when approaching Fang and her demons that made the mind of the huntress so restless and weary. Fang was from a different time, different place, in a way she was someone completely alien and yet she was the closest friend she had ever come across in her life.

Trying to sort through everything that was Fang would take time, dedication and a whole lot of support to her as she tried to make sense of this new world that had risen from the ashes of her home. Lightning estimated it was probably close to eleven thirty at night by the way houses were slowly dimming their lights and normal people began to head to bed. However the twosome that resided within the Yun residence were far from tired or even considering rest. As the embrace broke, Lightning almost visibly cringed at the sudden rush of cold air on her body. Hell, why was it so cold in this house? Fang grinned a bit and chuckled, "Little chilly there Sunshine?" the grin was that all to annoying cheeky smile that drove the soldier to want to smack it right off of the Pulsian's face sometimes. Fang walked across the smooth wooden floor and proceeded to kneel down in front of an odd looking hole in one of the walls. Lightning having lived on Cocoon her entire life had no clue what a fireplace was. There was no need for it where she came from. It was with relative ease that suddenly Fang had a roaring fire going in the fireplace.

"Y'see Sunshine, 'ere in my house we keep things a lil greener than most o' ya Cocoon-types." She paused and then finally seemed to care enough to check the time, "Oi, I don't think it'd be a smart idea for you to walk home tonight. ‘S almost one in the mornin'" Lightning blinked, her estimate had been way off. Watching Fang's form glide its way back to the couch she chuckled, conceding that walking home wouldn't be a smart idea. However, Fang's rest on the couch was short lived as she walked right back towards the door and then picked up the flute she had left there. Walking back to Lightning, the jade eyed woman sat herself back down. Lightning eyed the instrument curiously; she had heard Fang play in the glade. Perhaps Fang knew it was her and that's why she brought the instrument back out. Fang then eyed the soldier and chuckled, "I knew it was you back in the wood." It earned a brow raise from the soldier as she watched the huntress hand the flute to her. She took it and examined the instrument, completely perplexed by the simplicity of the instrument and the absolute beautiful song she had heard...
Fang reclined in a relaxed manner, almost cat-like in her movements. Causing the soldier to stretch a bit herself, "I got a story to tell ya Sunshine, 'bout another time, 'nother place." Lightning could have sworn she heard Fang's accent grow thicker as suddenly she found herself in almost another world...

A young Fang now sat herself upon a flat rock that rested on the shore of the great ocean in front of Oerba, the sun beat down mercilessly and yet it was welcomed by the tanned child. Garbed in a black top and a blue robe about her waist she sat there whittling away at a small piece of wood, small being relatively speaking. The water in front of the child calmly lapped against the shore tickling her toes as it ebbed away and flowed back in a rhythmic pattern. This girl known as Fang took her attention away from the wood for a little while, looking to the nest in the sky. The source of everything happening here on Gran Pulse; It was perplexing to the child's mind, how did so many vipers escape from that nest when it was completely enclosed? She shook her head and went back to whittling away at the wood, smiling at her work.

Fang had been told to wait here, because someone wanted to speak to her without anyone else around to hear them. So she had come straight here, afraid that she may have been late to meet whoever it was that was requesting her presence. Ten minutes had passed since then and finally she could hear footsteps behind her, turning to figure out who it was that had finally arrived. She was rather surprised to see the matron of her Orphanage sitting down beside her and looking at the youth with a soft gaze. Fang always likened the matron to an aunt, unlike some of the orphans, Fang had known and loved her parents for eight years of her life before it was ripped away from her and she was left for dead by the Cocoon forces. "Fang," the voice was very soft, almost pleading in tone. "You have things that are haunting you; things that I can tell are far more painful than just the loss of your family...”

The youth stopped her crafting a small fang shaped dagger and dropped the wood and knife on the ground beside her before turning, almost looking at the matron defiantly. "Shit happened." The matron, rather taken aback by the sudden hostility sighed softly and rested a hand on her shoulder. If anything, in the two years Fang had been here in the orphanage, she'd only grown bitterer, and more hostile towards the other children. She'd healed very little in that amount of time she had resided in Oerba. Looking the girl directly in the eye, she murmured, "Just tell me one event at a time, or tell me as much as you're comfortable with." Promptly Fang removed the hand from her shoulder, turning back to the water she began to recount a story that in many ways broke the Matron's heart.

"You already know my parents were killed, they dragged the adults out of the homes and executed every single one o' them with their fancy-ass weapons. But for us kids, they had us in a separate line, and one by one they began to kill us as well. I remember the blood had to have been up to my ankles, because... all I remember was the red from it all. They didn't just kill everyone, they slaughtered everyone." The hands now were fists, clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white with the strain. "When they got to me, I remember the first one, white as the fucking snow here sayin' 'aint she a pretty one eh?' and then a second, walked over, smirking like he was Anima's right hand and agreed with 'im. After that I thought they had killed me, I blacked out or somethin' but when I woke up..." The youth trailed off, obviously becoming more uncomfortable with the story. A pit was forming in her gut, and the dread, the embarrassment, the absolute shame that she felt was returning like a tidal wave. The hand returned to its place on her shoulder, a supporting presence as Fang tried to continue the story as best as she could.

"I woke up, completely naked in some field in the plains when one o' those guys came over and told me to shush and pinned me right to the ground... He did... they all did unspeakable shit..." Fang's jade eyes met the amber ones of the matron, who suddenly knew why Fang's eyes never showed a naive light in them, "They forced 'emselves on me, and let me tell you. It hurt to even move for days after they moved on and left me for dead out there. When I told you I wasn't a child, I meant it." The matron's gut wrenched. Despite Oerba being a relatively happy village, there were values which were concrete in their standing. A woman and a man must retain their innocence until they go through the formal union of themselves and another person. Unlike many people Oerba was accepting of all relationships. So, as long as you had gone through union with another person and were loyal, your loss of innocence wasn't a big deal.

However, there were many stories of women who had lost their innocence, and men who had done the same before they were 'ready' in society's mind and ended up rather alone and ignored people. The matron grabbed Fang and pulled her into a hug, muttering apologies to the child for having brought up the subject. Fang however wasn't the typical child, she was far from it, she pushed herself away from the matron, promptly picked up her woodcarving materials and then walked away. She would leave the matron to think about her actions and her curiosities about the past of a person who wished to leave it behind...

Lightning seemed to have become starry-eyed by this point in Fang's story. Intently listening to every word the Pulsian spoke, it was like a child listening to tales about Santa Claus or hearing fantastical tales of a fairytale land that existed only in dreams. Lightning's mind drew pictures of what she though the world she now lived in looked like back in that era when People were more abundant than just the measly population that lived here now. Fang had paused in her story, amused with Light's intent on listening and grasping every word with a certain sort of vigor that only she had. Fang cracked her signature smile, a feral grin that showed every single one of those pearly whites, and made her really live up to the name of Fang.

"Y'know Sunshine, th' reason why I'm called Fang, 's 'cause in the shock of the war back then and when I got to Oerba I looked like some wild creature that had just rolled onto the path. I didn't remember my own name, so I adopted one from the elder in the village." Lightning could believe it, and she really couldn't see the huntress with any other name but Fang. She voiced it quietly, and Fang snickered a bit. Lightning could see Fang was feeling better... for the most part. The holidays bothered her for reasons that were now quite clear in Lightning's head. The village though, it was as if Lightning could have felt herself there, felt the emotions from both of the people and perhaps it was because of that story that she looked at Fang with compassion in her eyes. She would have never guessed the hell the Pulsian woman had gone through as a child. She could have guessed that war was war and well, that was that. She would end up having a hard time living, but to know that soldiers... they had done that to her was almost sickening. It made her feel sick to be a part of the military in some ways. But then again, those were different people in a different time when the fear between Pulse and Cocoon had come to a head and fighting was the only real definite way to try and eradicate that fear from either side. Fang looked back at Lightning again who was quietly waiting for her to continue. And without futher adieu Fang obliged the curious soldier.

The sixteen year old Fang never grew to worship the Fal'cie per say. No, she never worshipped the Fal'cie directly. Unlike anyone else Fang paid her respects to the six protectors and right hands of the Fal'cie. First off Odin, this protector often took the form of a white steed and roamed around the plains of Gran Pulse eradicating viper forces that posed a threat to nearby villages. Odin often also took the form of a grand knight clad in emerald armor, said to have put the jade of the grasses on the plains to shame. The second was Brynhildr. This protector lived within the great volcano deep within the mountains of Gran Pulse. She caused eruptions from the mountains that would shake Gran Pulse to its core and often destroy enemy forces from a long way away.

Third were the twins. Nix and Stiria. They lived within the depths of Sulyya springs appearing in front of unsuspecting forces and supposedly tempting them into the depths of the water with whispers of desire and siren songs from somewhere deep inside. They drowned countless forces with their hypnotic spells. They often took the form of two koi fish swimming perpetually in a circle waiting for their next victim. Fourth was the great Alexander, he became the walls and the protector of the 'capitol' of Gran Pulse. He was the one the people came to when in need of stability and needing something to lean on for just a little while. Fifth was the keeper of the subterranean habitats Hecatoncheir. He kept the forces of Cocoon out of the underground labyrinth of Atomos. Using his many arms he could decimate forces without much trouble at all. He often took the form of a large bear, tending to scare away the forces without much bloodshed at all.

Finally, the last of the living guardians; the one Fang found herself attracted to and intrigued by the most, The huge ebon scaled dragon known as Bahamut. Bahamut was the ruler of the skies and the supposed lord of the dragons, which was funny because Fang had never seen a dragon once in her life. Perhaps that was a good thing. Supposedly this guardian roamed the skies of Gran Pulse by night and its ear splitting roar would be the last thing you ever heard before it was lights out for anyone who flew into its path. The teenager found herself staring at the sky almost wondering if she’d ever catch a glimpse of the great beast. Bahamut was also the only guardian not tied down to a specific Fal’cie, where as others found themselves bound to the great beings. Bahamut was one that either was serving Anima or just didn’t have a Fal’cie to serve.

She thought for a moment of the countless adults she had seen leave the village to become l’cie and protect Oerba at whatever cost to them, it was here that Fang knew what her fate would be. She would keep Oerba safe no matter the cost, especially after they took her in when she seemingly was beyond help. The teen held a bright red spear at her side, the reward for completing her training as a huntress in this village. Fang wandered around for quite some time, finding herself sitting at the edge of a field of the pale white flowers which grew in the thousands all around Oerba. She sat there and looked hard on the horizon, maybe she could see her future from here, and see if Oerba would ever need her saving in the end. Vanille had become a huge factor in her drive to become a huntress, she wanted to keep Vanille safe, so that the young girl could live her life as peacefully as she could.

After all, the poor kid had it rough. It was only right for Fang to give her at least one thing; at least one form of support system. She would make sure Vanille would be safe and sound so that she could be the person she wanted to be without worrying whether or not she may end up dead by a surprise attack from Cocoon. Fang’s loyalty is something that often was commended; over and over Fang showed tremendous loyalty to Vanille as her older sister and turned down many requests for other less dangerous jobs. Jobs she probably may have liked in a different time and different place.

Fang laughed at the bitter irony of the last statement, different time, and different place. She was offered those jobs and she turned them down because she didn’t want to be useless if there ever came a time where Fang would have to fight tooth and nail again to keep those she loved safe and out of harm’s way. It was yet again that Lightning saw herself in the Pulsian hunter; yet again she saw the resoluteness and dedication to keeping Vanille safe and okay. But suddenly those skills aren’t needed. Lightning fortunately was quite sharp and put two and two together without much trouble at all. Fang didn’t know what to do now that there was no pressing L’cie crisis, or war going on outside. However, whatever it was she had been thinking could wait. She felt herself nodding off, and barely opened her eyes when Fang rested her hand on her shoulder and told Lightning she should head upstairs and get some rest.

“Do I bore ya that much Sunshine?” She joked as the rose haired woman found herself in Fang’s bedroom. “Oh, yeah. I apologize Sunshine, there’s only one bedroom here unless you want to sleep in Vanille’s room.” The visible cringe from Lightning earned a grin from Fang as she herself turned away from the soldier to rid herself of everything but the familiar black tank top and black shorts she tended to wear underneath everything. Lightning had already found a comfortable place to lie down and Fang soon followed suit, pulling the warm blankets over them, they both finally fell asleep as the clock blinked four in the morning.[/blockquote]