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The Miles I have Traveled
Just a bunch of random stuff from my random life.
TFF - short - Ignore me? : D
I'm in a writing funk, and I'm trying to push myself out of it. So this came about after focusing when not busy at work. OKAY. I CAN WRITE KINDA SORTA. -falls over-

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Cloud had gotten through his written midterms with little issue, the practical fighting test he had finished just after, earning him a softened frown and a slight nod from Kratos, to which Cloud took as a good sign. All that was left was the Trial, and to tell the truth, he was dreading it worse then any amount of bullying that could happen from the Rem triplets; which was frequent indeed, unfortunately. He was the last student of the day to call upon his chosen spirit; not only because of this particular spirit was volatile enough to have both his instructor and the First Summoner on board to sooth the beast in case he messed up and pissed the spirit off (and thus they must both be free for this practical portion of the Trial), but Bahamut was picky, and would only care to be summoned for one of these Gladiator bindings after sunset. Bahamut was a busy fellow, from what Cloud could understand from his lectures and his own personal research into the spirit, so to keep him in the best mood, Cloud would be summoning him foreword at the spirits favored hour.

The blond was waiting at the door of the temple, striding from one end of the hallway to the next, his feet bare and his normal clothes replaced by a simple set of ceremonial robes, his hair still slightly damp from the cleansing ceremony he had gone through just prior to trekking down the drop into the bowels of the school, entering into the waiting area of the shrine. He just couldn’t sit still, no matter how much his Instructor was rolling his eyes in Cloud’s direction.

“We’re ready for you,” Braska, the Professor for the Summoners stated from the doorway, nodding backwards to the room behind him as Cloud just stopped his pacing, his eyes looking to his instructor who gave him a nod, handing him the basket of items that would be needed to summon the dragon lord forth, ones that had been picked out by Cloud before the ceremony had even begun. The mask, the item that he would need to form a pact with the spirit, had never left his hands since after his other exams were over, and he was glad that his fingers hadn’t smudged any of the polished sheen of the item. The boy had looked over the ornate, yet fairly practically crafted item again and again, finding small flaws that he couldn’t fix, that would need to be refitted many times over if he was to please the spirit; Kratos had told him that Bahamut was picky, and Cloud had a feeling that was a bit of an understatement.

Before the boy knew it, he was ushered into the inner temple’s chamber, through various doors and passages, the inner sanctum’s door closing behind him with a resounding clang. Cloud was alone in the high ceilinged, circular room, basket of incents in one hand, his mask in the other, looking up and around at the spirits that were displayed around the walls. He placed the items before the alter and knelt, stating a sort of greeting that all those who dealt with the spirits were taught, before he started upon the ceremony that would call to the spirit.

Incents were set to burn, one at each corner of the triangular alter before the summon stone that was indented into the ground, each smelling of a different coniferous tree from the northern part of the Sleeping Forest, a favored hang out of Bahamut, or so Cloud had read, including a stick of something that smelled very citrusy; a tip from one of the elder summoner students that Cloud had come into contact with while he was studying up on Bahamut in the library before the exam, confirming it himself as he spoke with one of the summoning instructors. Kratos had approved his selection, so Cloud figured that it was indeed something that would be well received; hopefully.

After setting the sticks to burn, he waited for the smells of the woods and the tang of lemon and orange to enter into his senses before he settled himself into the correct meditation position, being sure that everything was in order before he closed his eyes and he called forth with everything he was, begging the spirit to come forth and give him the honor of binding Cloud to the spirit’s will. The prayer stated in the ancient language of the spirits themselves, expertly pronounced through the Gladiator’s lips, the young man opened his eyes to see a gigantic golden eye surrounded by midnight blue scales peering back at him.

Cloud sat up a little straighter, his eyes widening slightly, quite proud of the fact that the yelp of surprise that had been building up in him was swallowed before it escaped into the air. The dragon hadn’t even made a sound as he had entered, and Cloud knew not how long the gigantic spirit had been staring at him before Cloud had finished the rather long prayer. Not too long, hopefully; if it had been anything more then a moment, Cloud figured that would be too long. Gladiators were not summoners in any right, and the only reason that the young man had been able to call a spirit foreword was because the leader of the summoners of the school had warned the spirits that they would be called today… so the spirits had been listening to any and all that entered into the chamber.

Now it was time for the questioning, or so far as Cloud understood. The Trial was filled with mystery because, as Instructor Aurion had stated, each Trial was as personal and as different as the spirits themselves. There was never two Trials that were exactly alike… to it was best to go prepared to the fullest, and be on ones toes.

“What do you wish of me, Child?” the beast of a creature asked within Cloud’s mind since this hulking form didn’t possess the correct vocal cords, settling upon its summoning stone, his gigantic face settling on the clawed feet, one of the bright, golden eyes staring at the little blond with an almost bored air. This was good, Cloud figured, since a bored spirit was a lot easier to deal with then an angered spirit; he would have to keep on his toes, of course, since Bahamut was known for his no-nonsense attitude.

Cloud stayed where he was, kneeling on the floor in the meditation stance, but he placed the mask on the alter before him, the midnight blue as dark as the gigantic dragons scales, Cloud was very proud to see. “I, Cloud Strife, wish to form a pact with you, Lord Bahamut, so I may continue my Gladiator training.” Cloud’s voice was calm and clear in the room, and he surprised himself with the strength of it as it bounced vaulted ceiling of the room.

“A simple enough reason,” the spirit’s deep voice hummed deeply in his throat as the words filled Cloud’s mind. “Though nothing noble enough to become one of my Warriors. Why not summon another of my lesser siblings?” The fact that Bahamut was even speaking to him was a good sign, Cloud knew; if they flat out refused a human, the mask would have been broken and the spirit would have left. The only thing he had to do now was continue on, to be as truthful as he could be.

“I do not wish to be a Gladiator of another spirit, my Lord Bahamut. I would only care to follow the Gladiator’s path if I am your Warrior.”

“I see.” The dragon lifted his head from his neutral, bored position, and tilted his head slightly, looking at the blond in question, breathing noisily in through his nostrils. “And why might that be?”

“I wish to protect those I care for,” Cloud stated, rising himself to his feet. It was unheard of to raise ones self in the presence of a Spirit, but from what Cloud’s research had shown up, Bahamut was not one for traditions; which was why he had chosen to include the citrus incense. It had not driven him away, but it seemed to have stirred the spirit on to speak to Cloud more. It was a change to the norm, and after hundreds of years of stuffy traditions, the blond had wondered if the spirits were sick of them, in some sense. Cloud could go on to say that Bahamut was hailed to be the lord of loyalty, bravery and all noble causes, but the blond knew that the spirit knew what the humans thought of him. Best to keep things simple, and to the point.

The spirit seemed interested, and it hummed deeply in his throat once more, timeless gaze slipping to the mask in his likeness, before back up to the little human that dared stand in his presence; the Child had guts, he would give him that. But there was a fine line between guts and stupidity, a line that had to be tread carefully, lest one fall and never be able to raise themselves from such a state. “Would you die for the ones you wished to protect?”

“There is no logic in dying,” Cloud stated simply, looking up at the creature before him. “If I were dead, then nothing would be solved, and I could not do anything to help the ones that I wish to protect.”

“So you would not put your life on the line for them?”

Cloud smiled at the trap the spirit had attempted to trap him in. “I did not say that,” Cloud stated, collecting himself before he launched into his explanation. “I would put my life on the line for the ones I wish to protect, but I would have no intention of dying. If I was asked to die for them, I would not. But if I was slain in battle trying to protect my charge, it would mean that I was not strong enough.” The boy looked up to the scaled creature that lay on the stone before him, a fire in his eye that Bahamut saw… and liked.

“What is the difference? Either way you would be dead.”

“To give ones life willingly to death is foolish, it holds no meaning and doesn’t solve a thing; I would never willingly give my life to death, even if you asked me to, Lord Bahamut.” Cloud breathed in deeply, calming himself, before he continued his explanation. “Someone puts their life on the line every day; be it on the battlefield or just getting out of bed. Anything can happen, and if you are smart, you will be prepared for anything that happens. If I am to put my life on the line, I may not have a blade in my hand, but if someone tries to steal my life from me, I would go down fighting. This I swear.”

“You have a fire in you that is not seen within many these days, and not within the last few humans that begged of my blessing.” But he still wasn’t done questioning the child, oh no. “What manner of weapon are you going to be practicing in?”

“Heavy blades,” Cloud said without a moment hesitation.

The dragon’s eye that Cloud could see narrowed just slightly. “Not a weapon that any of my prior Gladiators have wielded.”

“All the records of the famous Gladiators of Bahamut have had polearms, since I understand it has been your preferred weapon?” the young man waited for the dragon to affirm the notion, which he did after a moment. “I understand that as the years have gone on, it has been stated that polearms are the ‘traditional’ weapon of a warrior under your wing. My form is not suited to polearms; but I like the heavy blade. Not only can it be used as a shield, but as a bludgeoning weapon as well as one that cuts; such as with a polearm and a small buckler. Though, this shield can protect others if I so wish it, where a buckler could not.”

Seemingly pleased with Cloud’s answer, Bahamut’s face came close to Clouds, and the young man looked unblinkingly back. “Do you believe in Gods, Child?”

Cloud smiled, before telling the man exactly what he had told the last one who had asked him the question. “I believe that there are forces in this world that humans cannot explain away with science; and as such, there very well could be.”

“You will do,” Bahamut stated finally, and Cloud’s heart threatened to burst from excitement, though he kept his face completely straight. “Though, this mask will not… Make a new one by the next new moon. Keep the colored metal you have used, and the horn design is fine, but make it a little more… angled at the front. And do not let it cover your lower face. You will need to breathe properly.”

Cloud nodded. “Of course, Lord Bahamut.”

The spirit unfurled one of his talloned front claws, and stopped short of the boy. “Where shall I mark you?”

“Above my heart.”

“Ah, so there are some traditions that you hold yourself to.”

Cloud just smiled and stated, “Where better to wear your mark, then close to my heart?”

The claw extended out, and touched Cloud’s chest through the fabric, the flesh burning and searing beneath as the mark was pressed into his skin. Cloud winced, expecting that the process would hurt, but not entirely prepared for how much it would. Cloud’s form wobbled backwards away from the pain, but his form was stilled by the other talon, that wrapped itself securely around Cloud’s body. The boy sagged against the warm, scaled skin, until the pain dissipated and the claw was pulled away, though his form was still cupped in a supportive way. “From hens forth you shall be known among the Spirits as Dragonheart,” the voice echoed within his mind, a rush of power thrumming through his form, singing in tune with the creature before him. “And remember, my little Golden Dragon,” the creature stated as his eye drew near once more. “I will be watching.” The head tilted slightly, and Cloud wondered what that mean… and if it meant what he had a feeling it meant. The being continued on and told him, “Ah, but I believe it is time for you to awaken.”

Cloud jolted awake, looking around the room with a confused look, realizing that he was still in the inner sanctum, but on the floor… He rose to a sitting position in front of the alter, looking to the summon stone where the hulking form of Bahamut had stood a time before, before his hand flew to his chest and he pulled the white fabric away to reveal a dark blemish on his skin; Bahamut’s twisting mark. In the centre of the mark was a tiny heart, which furled outwards to become ornate draconic wings. A wide grin flew over his face before the nearly crippling exhausted and the slight hunger pangs hit him. He gathered the items that he had brought with him, including the cooled ashes of the incense, he noticed with a frown, scooping them into the container in the basket as he had been taught. How long had he been in here…? It would take several hours at least for the items to be finished, let alone left cold…

Getting to his feet a little shakily, he collected his mask, precious because the Spirit had accepted it, at least until the next new moon, and it was his proof that he was now a Gladiator of Bahamut; the first in five generations of students at the school, at the very least. Padding barefooted across the cold stone floor, he made it to the door, which opened of its own accord, and the boy nearly toppled out of the sanctum, and into the waiting arms of his instructor.

“You yet live, I see,” the man quirked as he took the basket from Clouds fingers, and passing it to the summoner, who took it away after congratulating the young man on his success. “I was getting concerned; you were in there for a long time.” Cloud had just nodded towards the summoner who left with the items, leaving the mask clutched tightly in Cloud’s fingers.

“How long was I in there…?” Cloud croaked out, swallowing thickly around a very dry throat; he had only been in front of the being for what had felt like minutes; twenty at most, though that was pushing it, for sure.

Kratos gave the blond a wry smile, one of the first ones that Cloud had seen on the man’s face. “Daybreak is upon us,” the man told Cloud, whose eyebrows quickly disappeared under his slightly ruffled blond hair, which flopped in every which direction if he didn’t’ style it. “You were in the chamber for a total of ten hours.”

Clouds thoughts had gone to Cecil, who he had promised he would text when his Trial was finished, and then to both the summoner and Kratos who had waited here, the entire time, holding vigil over him. “Will you cover how Bahamut made ten hours feel like ten minutes in our next class?”

“Of course. For now, let us get you to a meal and then off to bed, shall we?”

It was an hour later, when the sun was rising quite nicely over the horizon, that Cloud was settled in bed, holding his phone in his hand, lazily typing a text to his white haired friend before falling asleep without another thought. [Finished the Trial. Passed, but tired. Wake me later this afternoon?]





 
 
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