FFVII: The Young Generation
Book 1
Prologue
She stood in the middle of the field, facing her opponent, her mentor. His tall slim figure gave him a young gung-ho look, despite his age, and she knew that in those years, his fighting skill hadn't floundered one bit.
She fidgeted, brushing her hair away from her face, only to have it take refuge there once again when the wind blew. Her tank top and jeans clung to her tightly as if they were sopping wet. Her trainers seemed to shrink, and her headband somehow seemed to be getting tighter.
She continued to stand, facing him, waiting for him to say something. The wind howled, as if to emphasise the impatience she was feeling.
Finally, he spoke. "I have been training you for 10 years, and you have almost done nothing that pleases me. You're never on time, and you insist on only staying for half our lessons". He shook his head. "I don't know what your father would say if he knew that you had turned out like this."
"He probably would have been proud of me!" she retorted back. He's testing me she thought. Testing me to see how I react.
He nodded, slowly. "Can you prove to me that he could be proud of you?"
"Yes," she replied. "By defeating you!"
He rolled his eyes, and sighed. "You always were so impatient, like someone I used to know." He seemed to think for a minute. "You know that you could get hurt..."
"You're probably more likely to get hurt than me!"
His eyes narrowed. "Draw your weapon" he commanded, drawing his heavy sword from behind his back as he said so.
She drew a small cylinder from her belt, and pressed the small button located where her thumb was. With a clunk, the cylinder expanded outwards at both ends, forming her fighting staff that she had made herself. It was about her height, large enough that she could match his sword easily, light enough so she could move faster.
They stood facing each other for a few moments, and then she snapped, and charged towards him, staff twirling over her head, ready to strike. Her instructor swung his sword at her. They met in a shower of sparks. Already, she swung her pole around at his head, but he got his sword up to block quicker than expected. He immediately went on the offensive, using the superior power of his sword to push her backwards.
I almost forgot that he handles that huge sword like someone handles a dagger. She ducked a slicing swing that could have decapitated her head for her shoulders. And the weight of the sword means he has the greater power...she dived out of the way from a downward swing. How can I beat him?
Her instructor brought another swing to bare, which she parried. For a moment, they strained against one another, testing each other's strength, until her instructor rammed his boot hard into her stomach. She gasped as all the air escaped from her lungs, forcing her to take a step backward. He made a sideways cut, which she barely managed to leap over. However, her mid air position left her vulnerable. Without stopping his swing, he directed his blade upwards, turning as he did so to gain more momentum. His blade slammed into her staff as she made a hasty block, sending it flying up into the air. The force of the impact sent her reeling backwards, and she didn't have time to do anything to lessen the impact of her landing.
For a moment, she stared up at the sky, breathing heavily, and she tasted blood on her lip. The sun shone down heavily on her sapping her last reserve of strength, and now her mentor was standing over her, sword to her throat. And she knew she had lost the duel.
Cloud permitted himself a small smile has he looked down at her. "The day you beat me Marlene, is the day you graduate..."
Book 1
Prologue
She stood in the middle of the field, facing her opponent, her mentor. His tall slim figure gave him a young gung-ho look, despite his age, and she knew that in those years, his fighting skill hadn't floundered one bit.
She fidgeted, brushing her hair away from her face, only to have it take refuge there once again when the wind blew. Her tank top and jeans clung to her tightly as if they were sopping wet. Her trainers seemed to shrink, and her headband somehow seemed to be getting tighter.
She continued to stand, facing him, waiting for him to say something. The wind howled, as if to emphasise the impatience she was feeling.
Finally, he spoke. "I have been training you for 10 years, and you have almost done nothing that pleases me. You're never on time, and you insist on only staying for half our lessons". He shook his head. "I don't know what your father would say if he knew that you had turned out like this."
"He probably would have been proud of me!" she retorted back. He's testing me she thought. Testing me to see how I react.
He nodded, slowly. "Can you prove to me that he could be proud of you?"
"Yes," she replied. "By defeating you!"
He rolled his eyes, and sighed. "You always were so impatient, like someone I used to know." He seemed to think for a minute. "You know that you could get hurt..."
"You're probably more likely to get hurt than me!"
His eyes narrowed. "Draw your weapon" he commanded, drawing his heavy sword from behind his back as he said so.
She drew a small cylinder from her belt, and pressed the small button located where her thumb was. With a clunk, the cylinder expanded outwards at both ends, forming her fighting staff that she had made herself. It was about her height, large enough that she could match his sword easily, light enough so she could move faster.
They stood facing each other for a few moments, and then she snapped, and charged towards him, staff twirling over her head, ready to strike. Her instructor swung his sword at her. They met in a shower of sparks. Already, she swung her pole around at his head, but he got his sword up to block quicker than expected. He immediately went on the offensive, using the superior power of his sword to push her backwards.
I almost forgot that he handles that huge sword like someone handles a dagger. She ducked a slicing swing that could have decapitated her head for her shoulders. And the weight of the sword means he has the greater power...she dived out of the way from a downward swing. How can I beat him?
Her instructor brought another swing to bare, which she parried. For a moment, they strained against one another, testing each other's strength, until her instructor rammed his boot hard into her stomach. She gasped as all the air escaped from her lungs, forcing her to take a step backward. He made a sideways cut, which she barely managed to leap over. However, her mid air position left her vulnerable. Without stopping his swing, he directed his blade upwards, turning as he did so to gain more momentum. His blade slammed into her staff as she made a hasty block, sending it flying up into the air. The force of the impact sent her reeling backwards, and she didn't have time to do anything to lessen the impact of her landing.
For a moment, she stared up at the sky, breathing heavily, and she tasted blood on her lip. The sun shone down heavily on her sapping her last reserve of strength, and now her mentor was standing over her, sword to her throat. And she knew she had lost the duel.
Cloud permitted himself a small smile has he looked down at her. "The day you beat me Marlene, is the day you graduate..."
