Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII or any of its ideas, etc. I also do not own Lord of the Rings or any of its ideas, etc.
But the idea is mine!
Time's Scars'
Prolouge: The Survivor
Roused from a peaceful night's sleep by strange sounds in the night, the little boy sat up. His eyes moved toward the window. The sight that he saw was not like any he'd ever seen.
The entire village, in flames. An army of people walking around with torches and axes, and the blood of tens of thousands of Elves staining the streets.
Horrified, he jumped out of bed to awaken his older sister, only to find that she was not there.
He ran down the hall, to his parent's room. On the way, he saw the light of the torches dancing along the walls of his home.
They were getting closer.
In a panic, he ran to his parent's room. There, he found them with his older sister, looking just as terrified as he was.
"Mommy? What's happening?" He choked
The mother turned around and walked over to the young boy, picking him up. "You have to leave, sweetie. You and your sister have to leave."
"No!" The child cried, tears forming in his eyes. "What about you and daddy?"
"We have to stay here."
"Please, mommy. Please."
She put him down, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry. You have to go now."
His older sister came and took his hand. He always felt safe with her before, but the idea of leaving his parents was unbearable. He pulled from her grasp. "No! I want to stay here!"
The mother kneeled down, putting her hands on his shoulders. "You have to, for us. You have to go. For everyone."
Tears poured down the little boy's face. "No…I love you, mommy! I'm sorry!"
"You have to go." She repeated.
She put her hand into the boy's pajama pocket, putting something inside. The boy reached to see what it was, but the woman stopped him. "No. You don't have time."
A bang on the doors confirmed his fears. They had come.
Exchanging kisses, the boy and his sister ran down the hall, leaving their parents. The girl opened a window, and lifted the boy onto it.
"Go. You'll be fine." She commanded.
"What about you? Aren't you coming?"
"No. They know there is at least one child in here. If I go, they'll know we escaped, and they'll look for us."
"Here." She said as she placed coverings on his ears, "This way they won't be able to tell who you are. Go. You have to. I'm sorry"
With that, she pushed the little boy out of the window.
He landed the two-story fall with ease, and ran to hide in a tree nearby.
As he sat in the branches, he witnessed the horror that faced his family. He heard his mother and father's cries of pain and his sister's pleas. Then he watched, frozen with fear, as their house was burned to the ground.
Pulling himself from the fear, he jumped out of the tree and ran as fast as he could away from the home. Once he arrived at a nearby forest, he collapsed to his knees, sobbing.
They were all dead. Slaughtered like animals. Why? What had they ever done to the humans? They'd only helped in the war. Why were they doing this?
He knew well that his family was gone. Even at the age of four, the young Elf was no fool.
He reached into his pocket, remembering that his mom had given him something just an hour before.
A necklace, with their family sign on it. The Griever.