Strange Arrivals [Aerith]

[Aerith Gainsborough]

A sickening feeling clenched her stomach, and she watched with apparent dismay as Sephiroth so carelessly cut away at the flowers. It was a simmering anger that boiled within her, but they would grow back. With care and time, they always would. The more important thing was getting Firion out of here, or at least delaying Sephiroth. Life could never be so simple as to allow her some peace, but what should she expect? If only there was a way to reach the swordsman, reason with him, but his sanity was too far gone. His views of the world too shattered for any pieces to be placed together again. Even with all he had done, Aerith could not find it within her to hate him, only to feel pity and sadness. "You will never find the Promised Land, Sephiroth," she replied, sadness showing within her emerald eyes, but her determination was resolved.

Aerith still worried, but more for Firion than for herself. Perhaps he had faced hardships within his own world, too, and she responded to his small smile with a brighter one. There was little time to respond, as Sephiroth had already made his move. Aerith made a quick mental note to tell her new friend of her story, as he deserved to know, as he was not involved. Her eyes widened, and she held Princess Guard tightly within her hand, and she tried to ready herself. Fighting had never been a strong point, but she would not let this continue. Crescent shaped blades were unleashed, and Aerith already brought her staff before her. Defense would be the best to set up before jumping right in!

Firion had placed himself between her and the attack, and Aerith felt her heart race for a moment. He had struggled, but had sent the magical attack away from them. Sephiroth had come forward, Masamune brought forth into an arc, and her startled gasp died upon her lips. Blood scented the air, and Aerith suddenly raised her staff, casting Wall upon both herself and Firion. The barrier was luminescent for a moment, before fading, and she caught sight of Firion lifting his hand to perform a spell. Aerith made her way toward him, outstretching her hand to cast a hasty Cure, relieved to see the wound close at the least. If anything, she was determined to lend her aid to protecting Firion as he attacked the swordsman back.

"Are you alright?" Aerith asked breathlessly, keeping her eye on Sephiroth warily. At least the Wall would diminish either physical or magical damage sent their way.

[Sephiroth]

Sephiroth's facial expression changed little as his attack narrowly grazed the vagabound, although he did feel a slight bit of satisfaction at setting his opponent in his place. Too many humans seemed to think that they had what it took to stand on even ground with the harbinger, their false confidence in their abilities clouding their judgement.

Sephiroth took great satisfaction in showing them otherwise.

However, the vagabond had decided to use magic against him before even stopping to check the injury (which sephiroth could have used to his advantage). Watching the fire magic gather in the vagabond's limb, Sephiroth initially did not even bother to react at all: Almost as if he was giving his opponent a free spellcast.

"You will never find the promised land, Sephiroth."

The harbinger did not even bother to respond to the statement, his mind focused on the heat of combat. Regarding that, his logic of not acting was a rather sound tactical choice: the harbinger did not want to take unnecessary damage by assuming his opponent could not switch spells somehow or cancel the cast in an attempt to bait something. Yes, the heretic did get an opening to cast healing and protection magic on herself and her ally because of his choice, but the harbinger could live with that.

For a small healing and protection spell would make little difference in the battle: the masamune's cuts were easily lethal if done right, especially in Sephiroth's hands. Even if he did not outright incapacitate or kill his opponent with a successful swing, the damage he would inflict would nonetheless tilt the battle heavily in his favor. Once that happened, he would simply have to apply greater offensive pressure upon the vagabond until he crumbled. A simple tactic, but one that had worked when Sephiroth had been a lone and legendary warrior in SOLDIER.

Once the fire magic (Fira) came out, Sephiroth watched as the fireball came shooting at him and, rather then parry it with his sword and loose an opportunity to strike back, the harbinger waited until the very last possible second to simply slide the tiniest bit to the left. This in turn caused the fireball to miss Sephiroth by inches, which did singe the skin on his slightly exposed chest ever-so-slightly. A minor injury and risk for a greater reward, as the motion had put him in a prime position to strike again.

This time, however, his target was the heretic.

Still at the optimal maximum range for his weapon, Sephiroth swung the blade in slightly diagonal (mostly horizontal) one-handed right-to-left swing, aiming to slash across the heretic's chest and gravely wound her. This cut was also, however, an attempt to bait out some kind of response from the vagabond: he would be just out of reach of the attack unless he moved to block it. If he did, Sephiroth would once again have him on the defensive, or possibly even knock him off balance from the weight of the blow (judging by the difficulty he had stopping the earlier projectile, the harbinger considered this a possibility).

"You are correct: I won't find it, I will make it upon your ally's graves, heretic."