I rushed to Zack and Aerith’s camp in hopes of getting a chance to tell them about this problem. They found out the hard way already. Long silver hair, a coat that put all dusters before it to shame, and a sword that, though broken, could reach my neck from ten feet away. Or at least it could get my shoulder joint.
“AH!” I felt an immeasurable wave of pain wash over me, as the jagged tip of the sword stuck in my shoulder.
“So… you are the new Guardian…” he said.
“S-Sephiroth!” he grinned.
“You know me then, Arnold?” he said with a stoic sense of pleasure. “I can’t let you oppose mother, so consider this a warning.” Warning? With that he pushed his sword downward easily into my flesh as another slice from the ether tore upward. I was screaming in unimaginable pain. I just lay there, knowing that without help I’d die. Then Aerith stepped out of the Shadows and used a Curaga Materia. That was moments before I blacked out.
Tortured nightmares of the Jenova Crisis haunted me in my sleep. Yeah I had no experience with the Jenova Crisis but somehow I was reliving what my father and Zack went through with Sephiroth. It was like, with one eye I saw through Zack’s eyes, but with the other I saw through dad’s… it’d probably have given me a headache if I were awake. Right when Sephiroth was defeated by my father the first time was where I woke up.
“Hey, Arn!” I thought it was my mom, but it turned out to be Twilight. “Feeling okay?”
“My right arm feels a little… heavy…” I responded.
“Not surprising,” I heard Denzel say. “The real one was removed so I had to make a new one out of scratch.” I had to look at it and realized he wasn’t kidding. It was then that I remembered what Sephiroth did to me, and the others. Zack was sitting up hesitantly eating… something that smelled funny from here. Aerith was feeding it to him with a spoon.
“What is that!?” I yelled.
“Cocatrice noodle stew,” Aerith said. Further inquiring revolted me further.
“Well, ponies don’t eat the flesh of other animals!” I heard a new pony say. As far as ponies go… she was pretty, not in a good way, and there’s not really a bad way. She had two curls in her hair big enough to fit my arm through, and my leg could fit through the curl in her tail. She had a white coat and an image of three gems on her- I’M NOT A FURRY!
“Don’t you have cows or something?” I asked.
“They talk,” another new pony said. She was orange coated with an image of apples… there, blond hair and tail, both tied at the base, frekles across her cheeks, and a western hat. “We couldn’t do that.”
Aw great, what could I eat here? Well I wasn’t hungry nor would I be for the next… week… so the problem wasn’t immediate.
“Okay, now that you’re awake from that day long coma, it’s time for rehab!” Marlene said with her arms raised.
It might as well have been Hell, but I pulled through and could use my arm with no problems. And I could use the Fairblade with more ease… though for some reason Denzel gave me a completely modified version of it. Whenever I dulled it (I could do that by folding it in on itself), it looked like a briefcase... Kinda.