Trabia

It was cold. So very, very cold that day. A new layer of glistening white snow layered the ground in a blanket several inches thick. The mountains appeared even grayer in the glowing whiteness of the land. The sky was a dismal gray, enticing one to think of a storm. A storm of ice and wind, whipping around to create cyclones of moving snow. A blizzard was approaching.

Many animals could sense this foreboding presence of cruel weather. A few mice peaked out of there den to survey the white land. A screech from a hawk high above made them duck back in. It was a harsh summer that year in Trabia.

The trees were covered in snow, making them appear white. But of course, a small amount of green peeked through, demanding the eye to catch. The chocobo forest looked more like a giant igloo than an actual forest. A squawk and a high pitched squeak and a small chocobo ran out of the white dome. It jumped in the air, flapping its tiny wings in ecstasy. It stretched it's long, graceful neck, closing its large green eyes and clucked its beak together. To the eye, it looked as if the bird had an actual mouth, it would smile.

The air was clear without any sound to break the peaceful silence. The wind would blow loudly at times to die down. The sun stood high in the sky, a yellowed-white light surrounding the gray clouds that tried to cover it up. The sun did little if nothing to make it warmer and the clouds finally took the sphere captive in their grayed bodies.

The monsters of the plains were quite that day. Mesmerizes grazed on a mountain slope not far from the chocobo forest. Their white and gray bodies added camouflage as they ate the dead and dying grasses. The long blade upon their head helped the horse like creatures dig in the ground. This was done by turning their heads to the side and piercing the ground with lighting fast speed. The frozen ground would brake easily and the frozen tubers were claimed in delight. Another day to live on.

The great Snow Lions stayed in the forests. The sound of new born pups with their yipping roars that did less than scare a sleeping bird could be heard from the echo of the mountains. The mothers would purr and lick their pups, sheltered by the great evergreens looming overhead. The gentle way this was done shed new lights on the great beast. Few men would ever see such a sight without the fear of being attacked.

And to the north, hidden in a canyon of snow capped mountains was the only source of human inhabitation. Trabia Garden.

It looked like a Snow Crab with a halo floating above. But a sense of peace could be felt within a mercenary school. Windows with warm, happy light flowed out, almost brightening up the surroundings. The school almost made the inhospitable land feel...homey. The long drive towards the front gate was covered in bright white snow, warning travelers of the chance of ice. The basketball courts were full of overexcited people, passing and throwing the ball, in great hopes that their team will win.

But it would never be.

A great cry from a group of girls at the sidelines thrusting their fingers high into the chilly air made all look up. Eight silver blurs were coming their way. Panic broke out, people climbing over each other, running, screaming, crying from all directions.

A little girl of about ten years fell to the ground, skinning her knee. Her chocolate brown hair fell in her tear filled eyes as she realized her fate. Less then half the Garden would be able to escape their fate. A whistling sound as the air around the missiles was pushed back at a great velocity was heard a mile away.

They didn't have a chance.

The snow surrounding the dead Garden was melted, showing a rocky terrain with little dirt and even less plant life. The survivors had met up in a cave about five minutes from the landing site. All that were their could tell their lives had changed.

As tears fell and the survivors comforted each other, a SeeD Cadet slowly began to sing the Trabia Garden theme song. His voice cracked with emotion and his eyes closed. The others soon joined in, just as hesitant, if not more so. They all looked upon the place they called their home with pain and loss.

"To Trabia, where we call our home, We'll always know we're not alone. Hyne bless you Trabia for your frozen grace, May we all come back home to your place."

Final Fantasy VIII is copyrighted to Square-Enix.