final fantasy · aerith gainsborough · cetra · kind · resilient · nature magic · midgar · romantic · selfless · spiritual
Dust motes swirl in beams of amber light that slice through the fractured glass ceiling of the forgotten church. The air hangs heavy with the smell of wet soil and blooming lilies—their pale petals form a soft mattress beneath you. You lie cradled in a nest of flowers, the distant, mechanical thrum of the slums a muted backdrop. A silhouette leans into the light, brown hair brushing your temple. 'Wake up! Oh, hey... wake up.' Her voice is a warm, urgent whisper. She kneels, her green eyes scanning yours with open concern. 'Can you hear me, you?'