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The agonizing scream that filled the air cut through the young man’s heart like a knife. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Couldn’t stand seeing the woman he loved in so much pain. Wit tears streaming down his face he left the room.
The memory was still clear in his mind. It had been over two years still every smell and vision lingered in his mind, forever framing the beautiful time. Wutai had been such a perfect place to fall in love in. So different from the grey and evil Midgar.
The moment he’d laid eyes on her he knew she would eternally hold his heart in her keeping. He gave the gods his undying gratitude when he found out that her feelings were the same.; those were the gods he now cursed for holding her in their grip, slowly squeezing the life out of her. But on that day, when he met her for the first time, he could not even imagine pain. There would be nothing but them, forever.Deep within him a voice was telling him that his family would never accept her, nor would her’s accept him. But somehow he managed to keep that voice from surfacing, from making him see the reality. They married in secret two days later.She brought him to see her father the day after the marriage. He didn’t even look at his daughter’s new husband. Gently he took her hands in his and kissed her forehead.There was no anger in his voice as he told her to leave Wutai and never come back. Tears rolled down her face as she left her family and everything she knew for a new life in Midgar with her husband. He came from a wealthy family. All of his life he’d been spared the sights of the miserable parts of Midgar; the slums. But when his family found out that he’d married a Wutan farmer’s daughter they’d turned away from him, cast him aside. So did his friends.With fear in their hearts the two newly weds sought refuge in the slums, tthe only place were they’d be accepted. There were so many people living there, everyone different from the other. No one took any notice of two more. Sector Seven soon became home to them and about a year later they were expecting their first child. *****For a moment there was only silence. The awkward serenity that had entered the house scared him more than anything else right now. Then, suddenly, a soft cry; the sound of a newborn. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at his soon. He tearfilled eyes stayed on the still form on the bed, his dead wife.“Why?” he asked the nurse. “Why did this happen?” She glanced at the child, then said with fear in her voice; “There is someone you must see, and you must bring that child with you to him.”The nurse believed in the customs of the old world, the ones long forgotten in this new era, in the time of technology and power. She led him through the dirty streets of the slums to some obscure area of the Wall Market that he’d never known of. She pointed a crocked finger at a shabby house squeezed in between two larger buildings. “There,” she said, “you will find answers.” Then she hurried away.The room was dimly lit, candles burning on a round, wooden table with carvings. Through the darkness thread an old man with silver-grey beard and a blue robe. “Give me the child,” he said in a rasp voice. “Tell me what kind of burden you carry.”The young man handed over his newborn son to the Sorcerrer; he had no doubt it was him. He’d heard all the rumors about a sorcerrer somewhere in the Wall Market, but never had he dreamed of encountering him. “My wife died while giving birth,” he heard himself say.The Sorcerrer held his hand over the boy’s head. The child’s dark eyes sought his father’s, seeking comfort from the only person he knew in this world. But his father just turned away, ignoring the voiced in his head that screamed that this was maddness. All reason and sense were drowned in his sorrow for his dead love. “This child,” the Sorcerrer said, “entered this world by a killing. Wherever his shadow falls there will be death. He’s born to evil therefor he must wear the mark of the one of the damned.”He dipped his finger into a small jar, containing something that looked like red paint. He then pressed the tip of his finger hard right between the baby’s brows. The boy held out his arms to his father and let out a heartbreaking cry, the cry on the abandoned.“I’m sorry, little Tseng,” the young man whispered in the childs ear as he took the baby in his arms again. A red dot had been forever etched to his forehead. Author’s Note: Well this was one of my many theories of Tseng and his dot. This was originally meant to be the proluge of a multi-chaptered fic, but I’ve realized that will never happen, so I’ll just leave it as it is. Disclaimer: FFVII belongs to Squaresoft. This is all work of my imagination and it’s all for fun, non-profit.©Starla 2000 |
| The Floating City version.3 |