Chapter Text
When I awoke with Fang that day, neither of us could have predicted what would happen. But I never would have thought that together we would end up as the force that kept Cocoon itself alive. Despite my worries it seemed everything did turn out alright. Just like she promised…
‘Cocoon…it really does stick out like a sore thumb doesn’t it, Fang?’ Vanille played with a curl in her rosy coloured pigtail and stared idly up at the sky. Lying on the sparse, rocky hillside she could see the whole village of Oerba; the small schoolhouse, the railway line and the pale wind turbines turning gently with the breeze. Against the quaint little town, Cocoon seemed like a malignant blot in the sky.
‘Humph, that stupid crusty ball. To think people actually live in there…do they even realise that there are people living outside of Cocoon?’ Fang replied with her arms crossed in her usual defiant manner, her beaded bracelets brushing her tribal, blue tunic.
‘Listen.’ Vanille sat up suddenly ‘Do you think there really will be a war?' Her voice trailed off as she finished her sentence, as if to speak it would make it more likely to happen. 'I mean yes – it seems silly that people live up there shrouded in bubble wrap thanks to the Fal’Cie, but I don’t get why we should bring it down. I mean, everyone’s happy aren’t they?’ Fang sighed and turned away.
‘No Vanille, they’re not’. She began to walk away.
‘What?! Hey! Fang don’t just walk away from me.’ The pink haired girl jumped up and jogged after her friend. Turning towards Vanille, the bronze-skinned women looked into her eyes,
‘Listen. Things are going to change around here whether you like it or not. You’ve got to keep up, okay?’ her brow furrowed as her friend simply stared back with that innocent ignorance in her soft green eyes.
‘Alright, alright. I get it ok’, the small girl squirmed and sighed as she broke free of Fang’s penetrating glare and began to walk towards the village.
When they reached Oerba, the fleshy rose pink of dusk was blushing across the sky. Only a few stars twinkled in the oncoming ominous shadow of night. Despite its beauty however, Vanille still couldn’t get off her mind what Fang had said earlier. Why should things change? It was no use asking herself this though. This dark thought had been ever-growing on her conscience since the villagers on Pulse began speculating about the war. War, war, war. It wasn’t even the villagers that seemed to want it. No. It was someone else - a force that they could not disobey.
Shaking off this thought, Vanille rushed down to the beach. The sound of the waves as they calmly lapped the shore was enough to soothe the soul from any worry. As she stared out to sea Fang came to join her and sat down on the shore.
‘Hope…’ Vanille turned to Fang. ‘Hope. That’s what we can get from this; a tiny glimmer of hope’. Fang picked up a handful of ashen sand and watched the soft grains filter slowly through her sun-kissed fingers. ‘Cocoon may end as dust’, she let the last few grains blow away in the gentle breeze, ‘but we live on Pulse, and that’s what we fight for’.
The pink haired girl turned to her friend, trying to read her face. Even at a distance she could tell that Fang was serious about the whole war business.
‘Listen Fang,’ Vanille walked slowly to her friend’s side, ‘about that. Are you really going…to fight?’ The words trembled off of her rosy lips and her eyes were dewy with tears ready to fall. Fang's eyes quickly darted away to avoid the tearful eyes, looking down at the sand. For a while they waited in silence - simply listening to the steady sound of the waves as they rolled across the shore.
‘You make it seem so bad Vanille’, she spoke finally, turning around with a sad expression. Fang couldn’t work out why her friend was so against the plan. Did she not want those on Pulse to survive?
‘I don’t know’. Sighing the pink haired girl sat down hugged her knees. Looking out the waves suddenly seemed dark and empty in the fading daylight. ‘I just get a bad feeling about it. That’s all’. She shrugged and lay on the sand, looking up at the sky. It was just about dark now and the grains of sand were cold to touch compared to the warmth radiating off of her friend’s body. It seemed to Vanille as if the land was dead, and that all the life had been sucked out of Oerba; as if Fang was the only real living thing there. They continued to sit in solemn silence as the gentle waves caressed the shore, both deep in thought. Upon realising how dark it was, Fang got up and headed for the steps.
‘Are you coming for dinner or what? I’m starving’. Vanille smiled. She remembered all of a sudden simple human pleasures such as food.
‘Of course, I couldn’t forget about food!’ Yes food- maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m just hungry…and tired. Still, she could not shake the feeling of apprehension that had gripped her. It had slowly been creeping up on her, and now it finally had its sharp talons around her. She feared she would not escape it.
Vanille spent that night wet with the cold sweat of fear. She couldn’t forget about the arriving war, and although she didn’t want to die it was rather the thought of killing so many innocent people that chilled her to the bone. The girl cried out in her sleep over and over again to the gods and goddesses, praying that they would stop the war.
She woke at the peak of her nightmares and realised from the creased bed sheets that she must have been tossing and turning violently in her sleep. When her sleepy brain registered that it was dawn her hearing also begun to pick up shouts in the distance. Why are people up at this time? What's going on...Not wanting to sleep Vanille quickly pulled on some clothes and hopped outside to inspect the commotion.
‘No no! You idiot. I told you to put the flowers outside to temple…hmm so what?! Why are they down here then?!’ Vanille could see in the distance from her front door that there were several men moving objects around. Curious as to what they were doing she strolled over.
‘Umm…good morning village leader’, she tried to smile sweetly despite her fatigue.
‘Ah, Dia Vanille. Why are you up so early, did no one tell you about the celebration tomorrow? You’ll want all the rest you can get.’ The village leader was a short man, and he seemed to grow older every second; she swore several grey hairs appeared in the blink of an eye on his balding head. However, he was good at hunting the lobo that sometimes intruded on the village and killed the sheep, which –being the biggest threat to their comfy little village- meant that he was leader material.
‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sir’.
‘You don’t?’ he looked stupidly at her as if she was a ten year-old who didn’t know what a spoon was. ‘Blazin’ Barthandelus. I told everyone yesterday!’
‘I…went to bed early’, she mumbled quietly and shuffled her feet. Obviously she missed some announcement for a party or a feast.
‘We have news’, the village leader rubbed his hands eagerly and she could see his eyes were brimming with excitement, but not the kind of excitement before a party, but almost an excitement for something terrible. ‘The seeress from Paddra has had a most incredible vision - a vision from the gods!’ For a moment they both looked up to the sky. Far above the weak, rising sun splashed hues of crimson against the dormant ball in the sky. Red sky in the morning…
‘And…what did the vision show?’ Vanille didn’t want to ask. She knew what it was.
‘About the war! Oh Vanille! This is it; our time to destroy that stupid blot in the sky.’ He suddenly put his arm round her shoulder and swept his other across the sky as if it was erasing the spherical nest up there. She looked on unimpressed. ‘And the gods are on our side. Of course though…they need our help’, he cleared his throat, ‘The Fal’Cie Anima has asked for two servants from the village to be transformed into an almighty creature that will bring down Cocoon’.
‘What?!’ Vanille was startled. Yesterday there were speculations about war. Today it was finalised and now two sacrifices were needed. ‘D-d-don’t you think this is all a bit…sudden?’ The village leader was not happy at this. He tutted.
‘It’s what the gods asked for.’ He picked up a box brimming with festival decorations; colourful ribbons, woven tapestries, small drums and plastic windmills bulging over the edge. ‘The village meets at the temple tomorrow at dawn. Do not be late’. Vanille watched him waddle off into the distance with his box, her eyes widening with fear.
‘Oh…no no no no no!’ She screamed. The girl had run down to the shore, and was now clutching the railing that skirted the beach. The waves continued their calm retreat away from the shore, rushing back with the endless cycle of the tide. Somewhere in the distance a train quietly glided into the station and left again. Then all was quiet; her screams stifled by the silence. It seemed as though no one would listen to her.