For centuries he was among us, fading in and out of the shadows, staying near the settlement and yet never becoming part of the society. He lived in a state of seclusion, and while we knew he existed, and was out there somewhere, his existence became a legendary myth. The myth had begun almost two centuries ago, when our forefathers spoke of a ghostly figure coming through the town at night, often when there was trouble in the city. Trouble was not uncommon in Nibelhiem, situated at the foot of the dangerous Nibel Mountains. When it arose, he would be there to stop it. A sighting of the mysterious man was rare, and the one who claimed to have seen him was the talk of the town for several days. Questions were asked like Who was he? Why was he here? What did he want? They never knew, because he had never said a word, they all said. For me, I never was interested in the myth, until that fateful night.

From those who had claimed to see him, bits of information were gleaned. He was a tall man, clothed completely in black, and wore a long crimson cloak. He moved with no noise, and moved with the shadows themselves, swiftly leaving one place and moving to another, as if he simply teleported his body there. Most of the sightings did not take place in the open, and the man only appeared at night, in the moonlight, but no one had ever been able to get a good look at the rest of his features. No one ever tried to search for him, or talk to him, for if one did, he would merely fade back into the darkness, disappearing for weeks at a time, only to show up once more every several months. The town was afraid of him, and fascinated by him at the same time. Who was this man, and why did he continue to linger in our small town?

Saran Hailens didn't really like that kind of stuff, and frankly, I could have cared less. However, I was never prepared for what that night would bring. There had been no sightings for months, and I was taking a walk through the woods outside the town. I walked a little too far away, and soon found myself on a hilltop far from the limits of the city. It looked so small from the hilltop, so insignificant. Who would ever have thought that centuries ago it had been a base for the Shinra Corporation, the evil conglomerate empire that nearly destroyed the war. Everyone knew the story of the heroes that battled Sephiroth and Shinra, saving the planet from both. I stayed up on that hill for some time, just looking down at the city. I noticed it was getting dark, and I decided to hurry back before nightfall came. Even though things had been pretty quiet lately, Nibelhiem was still a dangerous place to be out during the night. Unfortunately, I knew that I would never make it back to the town before nightfall. I wasn't worried, just a little miffed at my own bad timing. I could have been home hours ago. I reached the woods just before nightfall, walking calmly through the trees, listening to the sounds of nature. The moon was shining brightly, casting a pale glow on everything I saw.

I emerged from the trees, into a clearing, and there he was. Sitting in a crouched position on a large rock. In the light, his face was clearly outlined. His face was finely chiseled, his features accentuated with an almost ageless quality. He had a hawk-like nose, set in a very pale face. His mouth was a taught line, and his eyes seemed downcast, almost as if he was brooding in the moonlight. Even in the dim moonlight, I could make out the sorrowful look in his face. He was look at the moon, but he seemed to be gazing beyond it. The wind picked up, and his crimson cloak flared behind him like the wings of some great flying beast. Looking down, I saw a wicked-looking rifle sitting at his side. I stepped back, away from his, and my foot cracked a small twig.

The effect was like a gunshot blast. The stranger's reaction was almost immediate. He looked in my direction, but I had already taken off running. I had no sense of direction, I just ran into the woods, scared to death. I looked back to the clearing, but saw nothing there. My feet continued to carry me, farther away from the scene, until I banged into a tree trunk and fell to the ground. Looking up, the trunk began to move, turning around. I looked forward, and saw a metal, claw-like hand glint in the moonlight. Then I did a double-take. It really was a claw, made out of metal and fixed on an arm. Out of the shadows, two eyes opened in front of me. I almost choked when I saw them. They were red eyes, blood red, glowing with an unholy light. The glow seemed to dance as if possessed by some internal fire, and they pierced into my soul like knives. Yet they were not evil eyes, just curious ones. The look on the stranger's face was one of puzzlement. He looked down at me with a cocked head.

"Who are you, boy?" he asked in a voice that was as cold and dark as the man himself. I could not bring myself to speak. My fright and shock was so great. The man of the shadows, that the entire town knew about had spoken to me!

"What is your name, boy?" he asked again, his voice still locked in that cold, unfeeling tone.

Finding my voice I replied weakly. "Saran," I said.

"Saran," he reiterated. "Why have you come?"

"I got lost, and found you on accident. I didn't mean to intrude, I swear." He continued to look at me with those unholy eyes, the gaze making me fell uncomfortable. The leveled stare was turning me to ice. I couldn't move.

"Who are you?" I asked, awkwardly blurting out the question. He looked a bit taken aback by the question, but he soon regained his steely exterior, and looked down at me once more on the ground.

"My name is Vincent Valentine." He spoke the words of his name with a tone of bitterness, almost as if it caused him pain.

"Why are you here?"

"This is where the nightmare began, and although it has ended, the curse still lingers."

"Nightmare? Curse? What are you talking about?!" He just continued to stare at me. Then after a short time, he said,

"What does it matter. I congratulate you Saran. Few can come across me by surprise. However, know that this place is both my curse and blessing. This is where my pain began, but it may also be the key to my salvation. I am Vincent Valentine, and I have protected this place for two centuries, ever since the time of Sephiroth and AVALANCHE, and the time of the Shinra Corporation. But know that I would change all that to live as a human once again. Value your youth, and your humanity, for it passes too quickly for all of us. Look to see me no more Saran, for I shall not return again. I would give all that I have for a chance to live as an innocent like you. Farewell boy, and do not forget what I have told you tonight."

Then, his feet barely making any noise at all, he ran off into the woods, fading back once more into the shadows from when he came. The moon went behind a cloud, and the world became dark. When it had passed, no trace that Vincent had ever been present remained. He seemed to have just disappeared. I sat there for several more moments, then took off at breakneck speed for the town to get away from these woods.

Ever since that day, I have not forgotten what Vincent told that night. He held true to his word. I never saw him again, and there was never another sighting. I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone about him, it was just too unbelievable. Sometimes, I thought I may have been dreaming, but I had to remind myself that he was there, and he did exist. I look back now, and think of Vincent. Why was he the way he was? What had happened in his life to make him so cold? I never found out, and never tried, for Vincent never returned. Eventually, the myth was forgotten, and the town went on with their lives. But I did not forget. I did not forget who Vincent was, for I was the only one who had ever spoken to him. I have always wondered what that tortured soul was thinking that night when I met him for the first and last time.

Vincent, wherever you are, godspeed, and good luck to you.

-Ronin