Archive of Our Own ^beta

--she's in Oerba, on the roof of the schoolhouse, staring out into the bay. The long jetty stretches out before her, dark line against the dark gold light of the setting sun.

"Fang," Light says, and Fang turns, surprised, but sure enough - there's Lightning, only a step away beside her, clad in brilliant silver armour, feathers rustling down one leg.

"Light?" Fang says, frowning, because she doesn't know what's going on, how Lightning got here, or anything. They're in Oerba, she can see that, but it feels wrong. "Where are we?"

"You always knew which were the important questions," Lightning says, taking that step forward. The feathers at her side brush Fang's ankle as Light turns to face the bay, golden light dancing across her face. "We're not actually in Oerba."

Fang turns with her. The sun has dropped another inch, jetty just touching the bottom edge. "Do you know where we are?"

"I know where we physically are," Light says. "I'm in Valhalla, and you're in chaos."

Fang shivers, abruptly cold; she can feel, all around, whispers pressing in on her, slithering touches; it's dark, suddenly, and she can't see. Can't hear anything but the whispers, just below the edge of her hearing but clear all the same, can't-

"-ng!" Light says, sharp, and all of a sudden she's back in Oerba, shaking like Steppe grass in the wind, bathed in golden light. The line of the jetty is scored now across the bottom of the sun.

Fang sinks slowly to her knees, fighting for control of her breathing. "I'm here," she manages, fingers clenching white on her own arms. "I'm here."

Light rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It can't touch you," she says. "We're - you're crystal, still. You're in crystal dreaming, and it can whisper, but it can't touch you. You're safe."

"What about you?" Fang asks, and her concern about Lightning gives her the strength to push back to her feet, straighten her shoulders and stand tall, Lightning's hand falling away. "Are you safe in Valhalla?"

Lightning looks away, an odd twist to her mouth, but turns back immediately. "Yes," she says. "I'm crystal too."

"You took a brand?" Fang asks. "Again?" but Lightning's already shaking her head.

"No," she says, "not exactly. I... took Etro's position for a while. It gave me certain... priviledges."

Fang's already doing the working in her head. Etro has the power, has always had the power, to control l'Cie, the Eidolons, the crystal sleep - the power to control Ragnarok. If Lightning was taking over for Etro... no wonder she's crystal now.

"Is it chaos where you are too?" Fang asks.

"A little," Lightning says. "Most of Valhalla is overrun. My presence contains it somewhat, crystal though it is."

Fang tries to picture it, and all of a sudden it's like she can see where Lightning really is - darkness all around, but for a single shaft of light illuminating a massive crystal throne; Lightning almost dwarfed on the seat, crosslegged with her gunblade across her lap. She blinks, and it's gone, just Lightning here in front of her, bathed in the setting sun.

"What happens now?" Fang asks. "Why are we even here?"

"We're dreaming," Lightning says. "We - I think we've both been draining ourselves, a little - I've been fightning to save the future and the past, and you've been holding up Cocoon. I think this is our last dream before we go into a deeper sleep, gathering our strength for when we wake."

Fang looks back out at the bay. The sun is completely under the jetty now, the bottom edge starting to waver on the horizon. When she looks back at Lightning, there's noticeably less light across her face.

"How long do we have?" Fang asks. "Before we're alone again? Before you're alone?"

"I think," Lightning says, and swallows. "I think we have until the sun sets."

This time, when Fang looks out at the horizon, Lightning looks with her. The bottom edge of the sun is definitely touching the horizon, light fading from the top of the sky. She stretches out a hand, and feels Lightning's fingers entwine with hers.

The wind picks up, lifting the fringe from Fang's forehead, settling Lightning's feathers rustling, brushing against Fang's leg. Lightning's shoulder bumps against Fang's, fingers squeezing together.

"We lost, didn't we?" Fang says after a while, voice soft. The sun is a half-circle, a dazzling trail of light dancing across the bay like the trail of a comet streaking toward the horizon.

"We lost the battle," Lightning says, voice just as quiet. "But it's not the end. There's still hope."

Fang swallows. "How do you know?" she says.

"Because right now, I am Etro," Lightning says, and her voice is still soft but it's like thunder all the same. "I carry the hope in my heart, and my will is absolute."

Fang's fingers are tingling where they're twined with Lightning's, but she's not letting go. She can believe that, believe in Lightning; she's always had trouble believing in herself and her own strength, but she's never doubted Lightning's strength of will.

"Okay," she says.

On the horizon, the last sliver of light vanishes below the waves.

"Will I remember, this time?" Fang asks after another few minutes, glow across the horizon fading from orange to red. She can handle the long wait alone, she can handle believing - but knowing she'll wake up a fresh slate, knowing she'll wake up and not remember Lightning - she doesn't think she can handle that.

Lightning squeezes her hand. "You will," she says, that quiet authority still ringing through her voice. "I promise."

Fang breathes out.

The red colour is fading from the sky, ambient light almost gone. Lightning's down to a dim shape beside her, and in another minute or two she won't be able to see at all.

"We were somewhere cold, and dark," Lightning murmurs beside her, voice a whisper in the darkness. "And then it was like we had a glimpse of the future. Everyone was smiling and laughing. Even Serah. Even me. You were there too, Fang. Same side. All of us. Together to the end."

"We live to make the impossible possible," Fang says.

"Exactly," Lightning says. "Believe."

The light's gone; it's impossible to see, but despite all that Fang feels anchored by nothing but the press of Lightning's fingers and the warmth of her words.

"I do," Fang says. "Light--