The form was of a slender human, but it was undeniably something other. The only thing visible in the silhouette were large, slanted, glowing red eyes, the color of anger, of blood . . . . of unequaled passion. Its long, ebony hair whipped around it in the wind made from its wings as it descended, seeming to beg for the beholder to wind his fingers in it, to hold the Demon close and refuse to let go. The young man below opened his arms and the Demon settled in them, snapping its wings back. Long, white fangs glinted on the full lips as its mouth came closer, closer to the human's own. As they were about to touch . . . .
. . . . Squall awoke in a cold sweat, sitting sharply up in bed. It's the same dream, he thought, the same one I've had for the past two weeks. He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering now that the cool air was chilling his body. Squall sighed and fell back, pulling up the sheets. "If this keeps happening," he yawned, "I'm gonna' request a vacation." With that, he dropped back to sleep, never once noticing that he never saw the Demon's face.
"Mr. Leonhart, you're the best SeeD we've got and I think you'll be appropriate for this. You don't talk too much, you're intelligent, and undoubtedly, you'll impress my guest," headmaster Cid Highwind said, lighting a cigarrette. He smiled, "You and a small group of the elite SeeD will be attending a special class today. I think you, Mr. Kinneas, and Mr. Almasy will get the most out of this, though the others will certainly learn a few things as well." Squall nodded politely, "As you wish, sir. Should I tell the others?" Highwind handed him a paper with the others names on it. "Yes, thank you, Squall." Watching after the young man had left, Cid sighed. Almost as if speaking to another person present, he shook his head, "Maybe these people'll be good for you, my friend."
"Heh, been a while since we've been at a desk, huh Squall?" Zell said to his friend, glancing at him amusedly. Squall nodded, smiling faintly when he saw Seifer sneaking up behind the perky young man. The taller man grabbed the petite blond's waist and snatched him out of the seat before sitting there himself and placing Zell on his lap. The little twenty-year-old had squeaked and now glared at Seifer, pouting. Seifer rolled his eyes and pulled Zell close, kissing him. The others in the room laughed. At first, finding out that Zell and Seifer were lovers had been a shock, but now it seemed normal. In fact, Seifer had proposed to Zell the day the pretty blond had turned twenty. They were planning on getting married in six months.
The sound of a throat being cleared had them all back in their seats in a respectively short time. Headmaster Cid Highwind himself stood there, a cigarrette between his lips. "Eh, to put it bluntly, the one you're gonna' be meetin' ain't exactly a . . . an everyday kinda' guy. He's a good friend of mine and I want you to be polite." There were nods. Cid went to the door and opened it, leading the young man in. Nearly everyone gasped and stared, including Zell and Seifer.
Squall nearly choked. It was the same slender body, the same ebony hair . . . the white-skinned man glanced up, the dark curtain of hair parting to reveal ruby-colored irises . . . the same glowing eyes, full of the promise of such intense passion . . . he was broken out of his thoughts by Cid's voice. " . . . Vincent Valentine, my good friend. I think you've all heard me tell you about him." Excited murmurs broke out across the class. The eternally youthful warrior that had delivered the killing blow the the Great Sephiroth was here? He looked nothing like the hardened man everyone thought him to be, but that was the advantage of being twenty-two forever.
He was small and petite, like Zell, but extremely frail looking and fine-boned. Vincent was pale, his skin the color of fresh milk. His long, ebony hair tumbled around his shoulders, framing a narrow face that looked like that of a Dark Angel. No, Squall corrected himself, a Demon. The feminine face held a small nose, high cheekbones, large, slanted eyes, and a small, full mouth the color of his eyes. On his right hand, the nails were neatly manicured and painted the same red. His other arm was covered in a long, black leather glove. He wore black leather, flat-soled boots, black, low-on-the-hip slacks and a black, button-down, linen shirt that was open halfway down, baring a ruby-studded belly button. He wore criss-crossed, red leather belts that harbored a powerful handgun.
He watched them for a moment and then gave a faint smile, showing a set of unusually long incisors. Fangs, Squall thought, gasping. Vincent shook his head and spoke to Cid, "They just keep getting younger. Soon they'll be training them at adolescence." Cid sighed and glanced at his friend. "You were trained from birth, Vincent," he said softly. The young man shrugged elegantly. "That's different and you know it, Cid." He seemed to take his time studying each of them in turn. When he saw Seifer and Squall, he smiled, obviously pleased. "So, these are the Gunblade specialists. Hmm . . . " He cleared his throat and turned to face the entire class. "As you know, my name is Vincent Valentine and I am a very old friend of your Headmaster's. Firearms are my weapon of choice and I am fairly skilled in their use, though I have been known to use other . . . tools of death." He tossed his hair casually over his shoulder. "Now, you know who I am, but who are you?"