Please note: I do not own Final Fantasy, Square Enix, or have any other form of an affiliation with the company. As much as I would like to own a couple of the characters, the only character that is "mine" is Syries.
Prologue:: When I Come Back
Autumn had always held a kind of magic feeling to it. It was cold, nearly cold enough to snow, but never so far from spring that one felt it was lost. These thoughts, along with a few less philosophical ones, traced the mind of Syries as she walked down the broken road. It was littered with stones thrown up by so many fights that had taken place here—most of them including the one she looked for now. She held the yellow and white flowers in her hand a little tighter, a bit more removed from reality and falling into her memories.
She stopped, standing beside a grave. It wasn't a very big stone, only enough so that this place would not be lost. Syries kneeled beside it, reading the etched name to herself:
K.
She could have asked for there to be more words, the rest of the name. But that would only have brought attention to the fact. She had once known him, and that made her the enemy. It didn't matter that she sided with them now. The past was too strong a force to be forgotten.
"I didn't forget my promise," She said, laying the two colors of flower in a neat x before the grave. "I wish you would have told me. I could have come. But you never wanted help, not for anything." Syries sat back, sighing. "You never meant to...I know that." She tried to stand, but couldn't bring herself to leave. This place had so much left of all four of them, the brothers, and that one. Trying to block out returning memories, Syries shut her eyes. But it made no difference.
"I'm going to a new town. It'll be safer there, just like I promised. I guess that's what you wanted." She stared at the headstone for a few minutes, not a thought passing, time feeling as if it stood still. In and of that moment, Syries happened upon a realization; nothing she had ever known had been simple. Especially not him. She remembered suddenly a day when he had been there, happy, alive. Smiling at his own wit, that boy had told her once, "Don't you know you don't have to worry about me? I'm immortal."
"I should have been there. If I knew, If I could have thought, or just followed my instinct..."
She put a hand to her face, trying to cover eyes that welled with tears she didn't want to cry.
"I'm sorry."
A/N: Please comment if you think I should go on with the story. There will be a few...heheheh... pairings, let's say. I'll clarify this in my next post, should the story be continued. Oh, and please give me ideas for the story's name—I'm out of any good ones.
Thanks for reading!