Once upon a time...

by orphan_account

Summary:

The fair prince Cloud is kidnapped by Sephiroth at the evil enchanter Hojo's command, after he's burned the castle and town of Nibelheim down along with its residents and Cloud's mother.
Will one of his hopeful prospective soulmates rescue him – or will he perhaps rescue himself?

 

********HIATUS*********

Notes:

This is a fairy tale, omegaverse, soulmate, dream-sharing/dreamscape fic that I hope will amuse you. The other chapters will not follow the writing style of the prologue, that was just to set the mood.
Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Prologue

 

Once upon a time, the fair queen Claudia ruled the kingdom of Nibelheim with her beloved king. The kingdom prospered, there was peace with the other nations of Gaia, and when the queen gave birth to a beautiful little prince it seemed they would have their happy ever after.

Their bliss only lasted until prince Cloud’s third birthday, when the king became ill with a mysterious disease and passed away not long after that. Queen Claudia mourned her husband, and vowed to never marry again. She ruled the kingdom, and raised prince Cloud, all on her own.

 

---

 

“What is that mark, mother?” Cloud asked.

It was an unusually hot summer, and they were on the balcony where there was at least a little breeze to keep them cool. Queen Claudia was only wearing a thin, simple dress with slits that partially revealed the graceful Nibel wolf that covered her upper thigh. Little Cloud was curled up in his mothers lap, and sleepily trailing his chubby little fingers along the mark as she gently ran her fingers through his blond, unruly hair.

She smiled. “That’s my soulmark, darling,” she said.

“What’s that?” He blinked slowly, a soft purr rising from his chest.

“You see, sweetheart, everyone on the planet has a soulmate,” she explained softly, watching as his eyelids became heavier. “And when you come of age, you get a mark on your skin that connects you to them.”

“Was father your soulmate?”

“He was,” she confirmed, blinking through the burn behind her eyes. “And some people have more than one. But I only had your father.”

Cloud’s eyes were almost completely closed now, but he pried them open, knitting his brows together as he thought about what she had said.

“But how do soulmates find each other?”

She laughed. “Through their dreams. Once your mark appears, you and your soulmates will share dreams. So go to sleep, little Stormcloud, perhaps you’ll dream of them.”

Of course, he didn’t.

Not for many years.

 

---

 

Cloud grew up to be a beloved prince of the people of Nibelheim. The queen made sure he had a thorough education in everything he needed to rule and protect his country: economics, diplomacy, swordsmanship, equestrianism, dancing, and much more. He excelled at them all. She watched him grow from a sweet boy into an accomplished young man, and felt confident that he would become an excellent ruler once she had passed and he was to inherit the throne. Of course, she anticipated that day to be far ahead in the future. 

The rumors of the beautiful omega prince spread over the continents. Royals were expected to marry their soulmates just like anyone else, in that they were equals to the common people, but traditionally they would find their mate within another noble house. The speculation of who would be revealed to be his soulmate turned more and more exaggerated every day.

Eventually, they reached over the great sea to the eastern continent, all the way to the ears of the unsavory enchanter Hojo. He had been exiled from the court of Shinra after trying to use his greatest accomplishment – a secret, deadly weapon – against the king and prince Rufus in order to claim the throne himself. The king had perished in the attack, but the loyal kingsguard, commonly known as the Turks, had repelled the attacker before he got to prince Rufus - who was then crowned king of Shinra.

Hojo and his weapon –the knight named Sephiroth who he had subdued with spells and potions – fled to the mountains and hid there. When he heard of the prince of Nibelheim and that king Rufus, who still hadn’t received his soulmark, had hopes of marrying him, he saw an opportunity for revenge and started plotting.

 

---

 

When Cloud turned eighteen, Queen Claudia arranged a hunt for his birthday. It was tradition that a royal child who entered adulthood would prove their courage and ability to provide by bringing back an animal they had hunted and killed themselves. And also it was fun. After the hunt there would be a ball, with music and food and dancing that would last until morning, and often the sunrise would bring about the soulmark of the royal child.

Cloud was excited when he headed out that morning with his knights. There was laughter all throughout the day, and good-natured jokes about who his soulmate would turn out to be. The prince participated in the antics, but every now and then he and the knight Zackary exchanged looks that told of a more somber story. Nevertheless, they carried on with bright smiles and good spirits, and almost didn’t catch the deer they had been stalking.

The good mood stayed with them upon their return, until they were met with the sight of smoke rising above the trees. Nibelheim was on fire. 

Cloud and his men immediately spurred their horses, urging them to sprint the last distance until they were covered in sweat and foaming at the mouth. It was for nothing. All that remained of the castle and the town below was a smoking pyre. 

In the middle of the ruins stood a single man. His green eyes were slitted like those of a feline, long, silvery hair tumbling down his back, his lips twisted into a cruel smile. A demon.

Cloud and his knights didn’t hesitate, they charged, swarming him like a pack of Nibel wolves. The man easily swept them all aside, flitting his long sword almost lazily. Except for Cloud. Instead of throwing him to the ground, he grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him close, his free hand suddenly shining with a purple shimmer. Magic.

“Cloud!”

“Zack, stay back!”

But it was too late. The knight, who had already been repelled once, rose to his feet with his sword in his hand. 

The silver-haired demon barely spared him a look, and simply stepped aside whilst he attacked, running his own sword through the brave knight. Zack fell to his knees, slumping down in the ashes that soaked up the blood washing over it.

“Zack!”

“Don’t concern yourself with the dead.” The demon's voice was deep and cool. “Sleep, my prince.”

And when the magic washed over Cloud, he found that his body turned limp, and the world around him disappeared into a black void.

Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Summary:

Waking up to new acquaintances.

 

 

Cloud woke up slowly. His senses were still clouded, returning gradually and he didn’t notice everything around him all at once. The first thing he noticed was the familiar, rhythmic feeling of his gelding moving beneath him. Then he realized the hair on the horse’s neck was crusty with dried sweat, and its head hung low. He was tired. Why was Cloud riding his horse into exhaustion? He slowly knitted his brows together, trying to remember.

“The horse needs to rest,” he mumbled, words coming out slurred, as if he’d been drinking.

As soon as he’d said it, he became aware of the scent of an alpha. An alpha that wasn’t Zack. That insight brought about Cloud’s consciousness a whole lot faster. At once, he was wide awake, every hair on his body raising as his blood pumped faster through his veins, preparing for a fight – that couldn’t take place, since his hands were bound together, and his back was pressed against something hard by something equally hard wrapped around his waist. An arm.

“It doesn’t matter, it’ll be discarded when we reach the shoreline, or sooner if it expires before that.”

He’d only heard that voice once before, but recognized it immediately.

The demon.

“I didn’t expect you to wake so soon, my prince,” he continued, musing. “The spell wore off faster than I anticipated.”

The memories returned to Cloud then. The fire. The humiliatingly short battle amongst the ashes of his home. Being sedated by the one responsible for it all.

Cloud blinked and tried to get a bearing of his surroundings. The sun was setting, painting the forest they were traveling through in a warm orange hue, meaning that a few hours had already passed since then. He still recognized the woods well, as they were located in the outskirts of Nibelheim. He had gone on countless rides and hunts in them before, with his mother and with his knights. A sharp pain shot through his chest. 

The castle and the town, gone. And there had not been sight of a living soul beside the demon when they arrived. Not that there’d been much time to notice.

“My mother…” The words were hard to get out, the magic still lingering and making him dazed. 

The demon seemed to understand what he was asking about.

“The queen and the rest of the court are dead,” he replied. “Some of the commoners may have escaped. They were not the target.”

His voice was even and calm, detached, as if discussing something trivial. 

Cloud closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He remembered the feeling of his mother’s fingers running through his hair when he was a child. How she’d comforted him when he was scared or sad, and later – encouraged him every time he’d wanted to give up when a new skill seemed too hard to master.

“You are a prince, my Stormcloud. One day you’ll be a king, and your people will need you to be resilient. To not give up in the face of hardships.”

His people… the ones he was supposed to protect. ‘Some’ might have survived, meaning that most had not. They had perished while he was fooling around in the forest, laughing and enjoying himself while they burned along with their homes.

“Then why spare me?” he croaked.

“No harm is to come to you by my hand, as was ordered.”

The statement startled Cloud in his grief. An order? There had been peace between Nibelheim and the surrounding nation for decades, even centuries in some cases, and the trade between the countries flourished. And while it was well known that Shinra had its eyes on the western continent, looking to expand their empire across the sea, king Rufus was one of Cloud’s possible soulmates, and had made his interest in such a union very clear. 

Besides, what use was a prince without a kingdom? An attack like this made no sense at all.

“Who’s order?” Cloud demanded, his voice steadier now. The spell seemed to finally be wearing off completely. 

“It will become clear in time.”

That seemed to be all the answer he would get for the moment. Cloud turned his eyes to the sky, where the first few stars had appeared, trying to process what had happened. 

Only a few hours ago he and his knights had been filled with excitement over the hunt, and anticipation for the evening's festivities. They were supposed to be getting ready for the ball now. His mother had prepared a ridiculously lavish outfit for him, and the preparations of the castle had been going on for days. There had been so many extravagant decorations, and meals, and musicians planned that Cloud had scarcely wanted to set foot in the main halls since it all began. But even in his stubbornness he’d known it had been out of love. The love of his mother and his people.

This night was supposed to be spent eating, drinking, dancing, and maybe stealing a few bittersweet moments with Zack in a secluded alcove. The last ones they would have had before Cloud’s soulmark appeared, allowing him to dream about his soulmate, or mates, and at the same time nipping anything else that might have been in the bud.

Zack… 

His brave, strong Zack, who had stood by his side since the day they’d met on a state visit in Gongaga two years ago. They had immediately become friends, and when the Nibelheim party returned, Zack had come with them. They had been inseparable since then. 

Zack had been the closest friend he’d ever had. The one who always knew how to make him laugh even when he was in a foul mood. The one who could turn his stomach into knots with just one of his bright smiles. 

Zack, who without hesitation had sacrificed himself for Cloud. 

He could still hear the sound of the sword tearing through Zack’s body, still see his eyes widen in shock before rolling back as he fell to the ground, blood pooling around him. He had been one of the strongest men in Nibelheim, and this man had tossed him and the other knights aside as if they were nothing but a slight inconvenience.

“Who are you?” Cloud gritted out.

“My name is Sephiroth.”

The name was offered freely, without reservation. It sparked some recognition in the back of Cloud’s mind, but he couldn’t place it. It was like one of the stories his mother had told him when he was a child, the memory consisting more of a vague feeling than anything substantial. But where his mothers stories invoked a feeling of adventure and safety, this memory incited a chilling sense of danger.

They rode for a little while longer, still hadn’t made it out of the forest that surrounded the mountains where Nibelheim lay. Had lain. Not until the darkness of night had fully settled did Sephiroth pull the horse to a halt near a clearing. 

“We’ll rest here until morning,” he declared. 

Cloud didn't respond.

The saddle creaked as Sephiroth swung a leg over the horse’s back and landed silently on his feet, almost catlike. Then he turned to Cloud, who had not gotten a good look at his captor until now. 

He was tall and lean, but muscular, clearly built for fighting. His hair was long and silvery, and his green eyes had a thin slit of a pupil instead of a circle. Like a cat indeed. It was obvious the clothes he wore were chosen to allow as much movement as possible, while still protecting weak spots. Except for his chest, which was only covered by a few leather straps that revealed pale, almost sickly so, skin with multiple scars. Some of them were slightly raised, and seemed to almost shimmer with color. Cloud had never seen such scars, but he didn’t get the chance to wonder about them for long, since Sephiroth had reached up to help him down.

Cloud straightened his back and squared his shoulders. Instead of allowing himself to be pulled down, he grabbed the pommel of the saddle as best he could with his bound hands, leaned to the side and swiftly kicked Sephiroth in the chest. He barely moved from the impact. A dark expression came over his face, and he grabbed the foot that had struck him. Cloud took the opportunity to let himself be dragged halfway down, only to then throw his full weight on Sephiroth, catching him by surprise and making him lose the grip he had on his captive. 

And then Cloud ran. 

He didn't really have much of plan, but if he could only make it to the trees, they would provide some cover, and if he was lucky he might be able to shake his pursuer long enough to find a suitable hiding spot. As long as he managed to keep himself calm enough to not release stress pheromones, Sephiroth shouldn’t be able to find him if he was hidden well enough. After all, Cloud knew this forest like the back of his hand, and it was safe to presume Sephiroth didn’t. It wasn’t much, but it was a sliver of hope.

Cloud didn’t make it to the trees. 

Strong hands grabbed him just before he reached the tree line and brusquely turned him around to face his captor, whose face had turned thunderous, the slitted pupils blown wide with anger. He took Cloud’s chin with a bruising grip and forced him to meet his gaze.

“Do not attempt that again,” Sephiroth warned with a low growl.

Cloud spat in his face.

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, but didn’t move to wipe the offending fluid off. It trickled slowly down his pale cheek.

“Very well, have it your way.” 

A purple light started creeping up from the fingers digging into Cloud’s skin. Not again, was all he had time to think before once again succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep. 

 

---

Everything was darkness. 

And pain. 

Somewhere amongst the agony he thought he could hear the planet call to him, bidding him to let go, to return to her. 

But he couldn't. There was something he had to do, something important… He had to fight a little longer.

It seemed to go on forever. 

Drifting in the dark, agonizing pain. 

Holding on.

Eventually a distant sound reached him. A rhythmic grating against the ground. Footsteps. They came closer, stopping somewhere near his head.  

“This one’s still breathing.” The voice that spoke almost sounded as if it was underwater. 

“Just barely.” Another voice, further away.

There was a pause.

“Give him a phoenix down, Gen.”

“It’s our last one,” the second voice protested. “He won’t make it anyway.”

The sounds drifted away again, the pain soaring and pulling him back down into the darkness, surrounding him once more. Then they were back, closer.

“Angeal, look at his wound.”

“I know.”

“The shape is…”

“I know, Gen. So how about you give him that phoenix down so we might get some answers?”

There was a rustling sound, like fabric being moved around, and then fire burned through him, forcing the air into his lungs with heaving breaths as he gasped, leaving his throat dry and lips chafed. Something, no, someone, touched the back of his neck and he growled in response, although the sound was weak and feeble even to his own ears.

“Easy, boy,” the first voice murmured, accompanied by the brush of a thumb drawing soothing circles on his skin. “Drink this.”

It wasn’t like he could do anything to stop it, so he found himself being propped up, and something pressed against his dry lips. He recognized the taste of healing potion, and soon the fire was chased away by the cool, soothing effects of the liquid that was being poured down his throat. When the bottle was emptied, enough strength had returned so that he could open his eyes. 

He was lying on his back, on the dusty ashes of Nibelheim, the smell of smoke and blood still heavy in the air. The sky above him was burning orange from the sun either rising or setting, and two pairs of eyes were staring down at him. One pair of deep blue, tinged with worry, and one pair of cerulean, narrowed suspiciously. The first belonged to a beta with dark hair, who was kneeling next to him, and the second to an auburn-haired omega who was standing with his arms crossed.

“There you are,” the dark-haired man said. “Can you tell us your name?”

He blinked slowly. “Z-Zack.”

He received a kind smile in response. “Nice to meet you, Zack. I’m Angeal, and this is Genesis.” The omega raised the fingers rested on his forearm in a half-hearted wave. “You've been badly hurt. We’re going to take you somewhere safe so we can help you.”

And then Zack felt strong hands picking him up and found himself cradled to a broad chest. The movement caused pain to sear through him again, and the world went black. He fought to keep himself conscious, to object. They couldn’t take him away, he had to find…

“Cloud…” he whispered.

The movement stopped.

“Did he say ‘Cloud’? As in the prince?” The omega, Genesis, asked.

“I have to… find…” he tried to grab the arm that was curled under his knees, but couldn’t manage to lift his hand.

Angeal’s voice was heavy with sympathy as he spoke. “If your Cloud was here, I’m afraid he’s not anymore. You were the only one we found alive.”

“He’s most likely dead, like the rest of them,” Genesis added dryly.

Zack whimpered, something wet trailing down his cheek.

“ Genesis!” Angeal hissed.

They continued to bicker as they moved, but Zack didn’t hear the rest, allowing the darkness to swallow him up again. There wasn’t any point in fighting it anymore.

Cloud.

I’m sorry.

 

 

 

Chapter 3: Chapter 2

The people of Midgar were milling on the streets as the sun slowly rose on the sky above them, making their way between horses, carriages, mules and carts. Eager and busy to get to wherever they were going. Like ants. 

The sounds down there must be almost deafening, blacksmiths working in their shops, bakers and fishmongers calling out their gods to attract customers, the clappering of hooves and of course, all those people talking. 

Whatever ants could have to talk about. 

Thankfully, none of it reached the castle that loomed over the city on top of the hill, earning its nickname The Tower. King Rufus looked out through the window, down on his subjects, one last time before he turned back to face the room. 

The short, thin haired man behind him was still waiting to be dismissed, wringing his hands nervously and his small, piglike eyes darting around the room – everywhere except on his king. 

Rufus sighed. The current court physician, Hollander, wasn’t much more than a quack compared to the last one. But unfortunately he was still better than whoever else he’d managed to get hold of in the wake of Hojo’s betrayal. 

“You’re sure?” Rufus asked, again. 

Hollander nodded, pearls of sweat appearing on his forehead. 

“I-I’m sure, your Highness.” 

Rufus clasped his hands behind his back with an annoyed huff. He was on his twenty-fifth year of life, well past the age of maturity, and still hadn’t presented with a soulmark. It was unusual, to say the least. Of even more importance, it meant that he was still completely unaware of who his soulmate might be. 

As an alpha, it was expected that his mate would be an omega, and as a member of a royal family it was expected that he’d be mated with another royal. Both things indicated that prince Cloud of Nibelheim was a likely potential match which would finally let the Shinra empire establish itself on the western continent – without bloodshed. 

Besides, although it was unlikely that all the tales of prince Cloud that had traveled across the sea were true, even if half of it carried some truth he’d be more than a worthy partner for Rufus. He hadn’t met the prince for years, when he was a child, but even then his features had been delicate enough for Rufus to believe the claims of his beauty, at least. 

But all that was naught if their soulmarks didn’t match. The prince should present any day now, and Rufus should have too, years ago. 

A flash of irritation flashed through Rufus, and he narrowed his eyes as he locked the trembling physician in his gaze. 

“If there’s still no sign of a mark, then why do I even need to keep up with all this?” 

He gestured to the various bottles and tins on the table before him. Hollander insisted the tinctures and salves he produced – gods knew how – would help bring about the soulmark. So far they hadn’t seemed to help at all. 

Hollander swallowed visibly. 

“Please, your Highness,” he almost whined, to Rufus’ annoyance. “Give it a little more time.” 

“You’re dismissed.” 

Rufus waved him away, sick at the look of him. The man scrambled away, bowing hastily before finally disappearing out the door. 

For a moment, it was quiet. Rufus went over to one of the chairs at the table and sat down, scowling at the medicaments he was supposed to take. He didn’t trust Hollandes, but didn’t have much of an alternative. At the very least, his proposed solutions couldn’t do any harm. 

If only Hojo had remained loyal. 

The attack was years in the past now, along with almost the entire supply of materia that the court had once held. Hojo was, or had been, the most accomplished enchanter in the entire empire, if not on the entire planet. He could not only use materia but alter it, twisting its use into whatever he wanted. With his help, Rufus was sure his soulmark could have been compelled to reveal itself long ago. 

But alas, Hojo was gone, and this was what he had to make do with. 

With a sigh, he reached for one of the bottles, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Come in,” he called sharply. 

Could he not be allowed five minutes in peace? 

The irritation dissolved almost immediately when he saw who entered. 

Long black hair, sharp but handsome features and piercing eyes that never missed anything. If Hollander was the greatest disappointment among the court staff, the head of the royal guard – the Turks – was the opposite. While he didn’t know why the Wutaian warrior had left his home country, Rufus was extremely pleased that he had. 

“Tseng,” he said, his tone a lot more relaxed, almost relieved. 

“My king.” 

Tseng bowed as his eyes swept over the room. Rufus' lips twisted upwards in a crooked smile. 

“We’re alone.” 

“Force of habit,” Tseng said with another little bow. 

He had a soulmark in the shape of a giant snake, its head resting on his cheek while the body stretched down across his neck, disappearing under his clothes. Rufus wondered, not for the first time, how far down it went.  

“I bring news from Nibelheim, your Highness,” Tseng continued, and Rufus snapped his attention back to his face. 

“What is it?” 

Had the prince presented then? 

But Tseng’s briefing held nothing of the sort. 

“There’s been an attack.” 

The statement had Rufus taken by surprise. Nibelheim was a notoriously peaceful country, and hadn’t been engaged in a war in many years, and Queen Claudia had done her utmost to preserve that peace. 

“By who?” 

“It’s unknown,” Tseng said apologetically, it wasn’t like him to not have all the details. “But it was… extensive.” 

His choice of words made Rufus suspect there was more to it, and he waited for the Turk to continue. 

“Refugees have arrived in the nearby countries. There aren’t many, and all their testimonies line up. The entire capital has been burned down, along with most of the inhabitants.” 

Nibelheim was a small country, made up mostly of mountains and forests. Except for the capital there were mostly small villages, meaning that what Tseng told him was that the majority of the Nibelheimians had been exterminated. 

“”What of the queen?” Rufus asked sharply. 

“Dead,” Tseng said. 

Another crushing blow for the small nation. A nation Rufus had looked forward to incorporating into his own empire. He couldn’t help but feel that this attack had somehow been aimed at him , which of course was ridiculous. Still, it certainly changed things. 

“And the prince?” 

“He was away on his coming of age hunt during the attack.” Tseng’s eyes flitted over Rufus’ face for a brief moment. “There are no accounts of him being involved in the attack, but also no accounts of him being seen after.” 

There was something more. Rufus knew him well enough to be able to tell, and he bore his gaze down on him. 

“What else?” 

“While the prince wasn’t found, his knights were,” Tseng admitted, almost reluctantly. “All dead.”  

That was it then. Rufus slumped back in his chair. If the prince’s knights had been killed, there was almost no chance of him surviving – regardless of all the claims of his accomplished fighting skills. 

For years now, Rufus had hoped – and anticipated, presumptuous as it may be – that the nationNibelheim would be his to rule, alongside prince Cloud as his soulmate. It had seemed the only plausible possibility. As of now, there were no other unmatched alphas or omegas of the appropriate age among the royal families, surely he and Cloud were – or would have been – soulmates. 

And then someone had taken that from Rufus. 

“I need to know for sure,” he ordered, and Tseng bowed in assent. “Both if the prince survived, and who’s responsible for the attack. Set the Turks to the task, I need my best men on this.” 

Tseng raised a brow. 

“Are you sure, your Highness?” 

The royal guard were meant to protect the royal family of Shinra. The only times they were sent on missions like this was if it was one of them who needed to be located. 

But if Cloud was Rufus' soulmate…  

“I’m sure,” Rufus stated. The he hesitated. “You won’t go yourself, though.” 

Tseng’s eyes lingered on his face a little longer this time. 

“I won’t,” he agreed. “I think perhaps Cissnei will be a good choice. She’s stealthy and won’t attract attention.” 

Rufus nodded. 

“See to it then.” 

Tseng bowed one last time, and left. Rufus watched the door that closed behind him for a long time. He trusted his loyal Turks. They would find out the truth, and help him extract his revenge. The king of Shinra would not sit idle while someone thought they could take what was rightfully his away from him.  

 

---

The next time Zack came to, it was to the crackling of a fire, and in an instant he was wide awake and trying to jump to his feet. A sharp pain stopped him, and he collapsed back on the ground, coughing and clutching his chest. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” 

Zack blinked in the direction of the voice, and a face came into view on the other side of the fire. A campfire, he realized, not the burning town of Nibelheim. 

The brown-haired man staring at him with a guarded face looked somewhat familiar, and Zack tried to ransack his brain for his name, but everything was muddled, clouded… 

“Cloud!” 

The memories washed over him all at once, and he again tried desperately to sit up but failed this time too. 

The man – Genesis, Zack brain provided suddenly – rolled his eyes. 

“Is that the only thing you can say?” he sneered. “I have to hand it to that prince of yours, he sure seems to have picked loyal servants.”  

“Genesis,” another voice chided, and another man appeared by the fire. 

He was carrying two bowls in his hands, and had a much more sympathetic look on his face. 

“How are you feeling – Zack, was it?” 

Zack rubbed his chest again. The sharp pain had subsided, leaving a dull ache where the demon had slashed him open with his sword. Twice.  

“I’m fine,” he muttered. 

Genesis snorted. The other man, Angeal, ignored him. 

“You should try to eat something then,” he said, putting the bowls down and wasing over to Zack’s side. “Here, let me help you up.” 

Angeal’s arms were strong and handled Zack easily and well practiced, like he’d done it a million times before. The thought left Zack with a feeling of dread. 

“How long was I out?” he asked once he was propped up, trying not to lean too much on Angeal who’d placed himself next to him. 

“Four days,” Genesis provided. 

He was watching the scene without moving to help, his eyes searching Zack as if he was looking for a clue. 

Angeal reached for one of the bowls. It contained some sort of stew, made from edible roots and plants found in the Nibel forests, and a few small pieces of meat. 

“That's all we could do for now,” he said. “We need to stock up once we found a village.” 

“And make some money,” Genesis added. 

Zack tried to accept the bowl that he was offered, but to his horror he could barely lift his hands. Angeal seemed to understand, and pulled the bowl back. 

“It’s to be expected,” he said kindly. “You were on the brink of death when we found you. It will take some time for you to regain your strength. Here, let me help.” 

He grabbed the spoon sticking up from the bowl, and brought it to Zack’s lips. It was humiliating, but his stomach was churning at the smell of food and even though he wanted to refuse to eat until he could do it himself, Zack found himself parting his lips and letting Angeal gently feed him. 

The simple stew tasted heavenly. It must be the first thing he’d eaten since… Zack swallowed. 

“Good,” Angeal mumbled. “Take it easy, don’t want it all to come up again.” 

He provided Zack with a couple of more spoons. No matter how starving he’d felt, after just a couple of mouthfuls Zack felt full, and turned his head away. Angeal nodded and put the bowl away. 

“Alright, I guess that will have to do for now,” he said, almost regretfully. “We’ll change your bandage and then we’ll see if you can manage a few more bites.” 

“Yes,” Genesis shot in. “And then we’d like to hear about what happened to you. Not,” he held up hand, “so much about your precious prince, but the man who attacked you.” 

“Genesis,” Angeal growled, and the omega glared at him. “You’ll get your answers, let the boy catch his breath first.” 

“Don’t pretend you’re not as eager as I am,” Genesis spat, but didn’t push anymore. 

He watched quietly as Angeal eased Zack’s tunic up, revealing a dirty bandage wrapped around his torso. It was only then he realized that his armor had been stripped off, and his weapons were nowhere to be seen. 

“We had to leave most of your things back in Nibelheim,” Angeal said, as if he could read Zack’s thoughts. “It would have been too heavy for us to carry.” 

Zack could only nod. It wasn’t as if those things mattered. He had carried the armor painted with a Nibel wolf with pride, it being a signal of his vocation – devotion – to the royal family. To Cloud. But if it was all gone… 

Cloud was gone. 

The tears started rolling down his cheeks, and he did nothing to stop them. Angeal didn’t comment, only continued with his care, cleaning and redressing the wound. When he was done, he propped Zack against his side again. 

“Think you can eat a little more?” 

Zack shook his head. He was tired, he just wanted to go back to sleep. 

Something soft was pressed into his hand, and he blinked at it in surprise. A handkerchief. It was clean and the fabric was of high quality. He raised his eyes and looked at Genesis in a silent question. 

“Just wipe your damn nose,” the omega grumbled. “And then tell us how you got those wounds.” 

Stunned, Zack obliged. He told them about the hunt, and how upon their return they’d been met with the sight of their hometown burning, and the demon amidst it all. When he came to the part where the silver haired monster grabbed Cloud, his voice cracked, and he needed to take a few breaths to steady himself enough to continue. 

Both men listened tentatively, and when he came to that part, Genesis leaned forward. 

“Silver hair?” he asked, and when Zack nodded the omega shot Angeal a strange look. 

Zack looked between the two of them. 

“Do you know who he is?” he asked. 

Angeal cleared his throat. “Do you remember anything else about his appearance?” 

It didn’t escape Zack that the beta had avoided the question, but he answered anyway, taking a pause to try and remember. 

“His eyes were strange,” he said after a while. “The pupil was a thin line, like a snake. And…” he frowned. “He had these strange scars all over. Colorful…” 

“Colorful?” Genesis asked sharply. 

“Yes.” Zack nodded, his head suddenly feeling much heavier. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

He took a deep breath, and blinked slowly. Exhaustion was starting to wear him down, and before he knew it, Angeal was easing him down on the ground again. 

“Thank you, Zack,” he said. “You’ve been very helpful. Now rest.” 

He didn’t really understand how he’d been helpful, but he was too tired to think too much about it. As he drifted off, the voices of his strange saviors silently arguing with each other lulled him to sleep.