FINAL FANTASY

A SUMMONER'S LEGACY

Sparks flew as the solid rock hammer crashed down upon a length of red hot steel.

Memories of past torture clouded the man's mind, as he swung harder and harder with the hammer in anger. His eyes gleamed as he thought of ways to punish his enemies by the razor sharp edge of his blades.

The door of the small metal workshop was flung open by a man carrying larger, thicker pieces of metal. In his right hand, he held a small bag, with its contents unknown to the blacksmith.

"Your pay is on the table in the corner." He said without hesitation.

The mysterious man nodded, and the blacksmith continued with his work. The strange delivery man grabbed hold of the small leather sack, containing gold coins, and left, without closing the small wooden door.

The man turned to the small work table, and reached out for the thick gloves. The blacksmith slid them on his hands, and grasped the formed steel blade. He then rammed the metal object into a small furnace, used for heating up metal. His eyes watched carefully, to make sure he did not overheat the steel. The man's arms reacted fast and flung the blade into a bucket of cold water. Steam rouse quickly from the water, and the redness of the metal turned back into the original black of burned steel.

He removed the gloves and tossed them both onto the table, as they were before. His weather beaten hands and arms, lifted the metal rod, and placed it along side of several others that lay upon a heavy anvil. The hard rubber clicked on the stone floor as the blacksmith moved out the door. His right hand grabbed the corner of the wooden door, and closed it behind him.

The large eyes of the homeless followed his every foot step, as they begged for money. The blacksmith was taught never to reply to them. Some sent out death threat to the man as he passed by with a laugh. Several hours passed, and he had finally reached his old tattered home along the cramped street, struck by poverty. The two windows built into the second floor were smashed and dirty. The shudders were held by one single nail, and the paint is non-existent. The blacksmith's hand reached out, and grabbed the copper makeshift door handle, and twisted it. His feet lifted off the ground as the door smashed into him.

The blacksmith's ears ran as he crashed down to the ground. His senses started to fade, but he tried to say awake. The last thing the man remembered hearing was the gasps of strangers who were walking by. Several more hours had passed as he awoke and slowly opened his grayish eyes. The blacksmith's head throbbed and ached, as he looked around the small, dimly lit room. When he looked to his right, he could see a silhouette of a person, sitting on a small chair, watching him.

His mouth opened and he let out a groan as he lifted his built arm, and placed his open hand on his dirty forehead.

"Are you alright?" A women's voice rang.

"Perfectly fine." The blacksmith returned with his deep voice.

The blacksmith lifted himself upwards, and hung his head, as he sat on the long old leather couch.

"Where am I, and what happened?" He questioned to the women, while rubbing his eyes.

"You're in your own living room. And I hit you with the door on my way out." She replied.

"Brynn? What the hell? You didn't hear me walking up?" The blacksmith said with rage.

"I was in a hurry. A package just got in for me at the sector C post office." She continued with a sigh.

"Well Jesus Leon, I was in a hurry okay? I'm sorry." The catlike women said with sincerity.

Leon pushed off with his legs slowly, and rouse from the couch.

"Well, what was in the package?" Leon said tilting his head slightly.

"Just something great grandpa wanted you to have." Brynn replied with a smirk.

Leon's eyes widened as he remembered his great grandfathers prized possession.

"The Gunblade?" Leon said with an excited voice.

Brynn's ears lowered, as she shook her nodded.

The blackish tail moved behind her, and seemed to wag faster as Leon mentioned the Gunblade.

"So." Leon said quickly.

"Where is it?" He smiled.

TWO MINUTES LATER

Leon's rubber boots clicked loudly, as he sprinted down the street. His eyes shot around the street, looking at the Homeless.

"I'm Out of this fucking sector. Time to go live with all the billionaires." Leon said out loud.

Leon had spent most of his free time from work, training with a local swords master. He intended to enter competitions for money. His sword skills were both admirable and ruthless. The Gunblade would make him famed, and respected. Leon's eyes shot up, and peered at the large metal sigh, suspended by solid steel bars. The sigh read, 'Sector C'. Futuristic automobiles flew past Leon as he ran along side of the Zanarkand Highbridge.

"I'll go see Tidus after I get it. Maybe do a little showing off." He thought.

Leon's feet and legs came to abrupt halt in front of a large building, at least ten stories high.

Leon moved up the short metal staircase, towards a door, that read "Post".

He raised his right hand, and placed it on the titanium bar in front of the door, and pushed down. Leon could hear the sound of hydraulics moving the door open. Leon lifted the hood of his black shirt, and covered his dark crimson hair.

As he walked to the counter to his right in the large room, the excitement was overwhelming.

"Is there a package here for Brynn Lionheart?" Leon said slowly, trying to disguise his voice. Many people from around that area knew his name, and his family.

"Yes there is, but it is too big for me to carry. Can you help with it?" The lady attendant replied.

"Sure." Leon said with a large smile.

The lady grabbed the silver metal hook, and lifted part of the counter to let Leon in for help. As Leon followed the women through a small robotic door.