Prologue

Dissidia Event Dungeon

A cool breeze wafted around the lionhearted youth in black. It was serene, invigorating Squall for the trial ahead despite the disheartening expanse of stormy dark void in the skyline above. As he waited for his opponent to appear, he thought of Rinoa, back in the Royal Archives. She was likely outside of the dungeon somewhere, waiting for his return. Perhaps she was chatting with one of her new friends, playing with Angelo, or... just taking a nap. Though many of the other hero records here were homesick, Rinoa was one of the people who took her placement here in stride. It was almost as though it didn't affect her at all.

Squall thought of her smile, slight and small, but warm. He thought of her slender shoulders and arms, the way they would lift and open when she invited (pressured) him for an embrace. And he thought of the way her vibrant personality shone amidst the dark; much like her gleaming eyes, shrewd yet stubborn. The corner of Squall's mouth almost curled into a barely-visible grin.

Much of his romantic side was extremely private. And even when it was only the two of them, she would really have to wrest the truth from his stonewalled thoughts. It was probably troublesome dating a guy like him, but Rinoa didn't seem to mind the challenge, and Squall was secretly grateful for this. He knew his attitude was hard to deal with.

He awakened from his thoughts to clinking armor and slow, heavy footsteps. Squall knew the boss was here. His fingers curled around the hilt of his weapon, his gloves lightly squeaking under his grip. Atop a tourmaline platform of the Crystal World, he stood. It was an arena from Zidane's realm. Squall recognized that he had been here before, when he was still under the thumb of Cosmos.

"I have only one goal. I won't allow for distractions," Squall recited. He was repeating the same line from that day, so long ago. Squall reminisced upon this spar; ready to re-enact it; ready to win it, just as before. Even if these records were just some storybook; he was willing to enact his part in this play.

Across from him, the Warrior of Light raised his sword, the Braveheart. It wasn't truly the Warrior, of course. It was just a record of a previous fight; just a boss battle against a memory.

But that didn't matter if it wasn't real; Squall was facing him alone, so he thought this wouldn't be a cakewalk. In reality, when this fight happened during the 13th Cycle of the Conflict of the Gods, it was supposed to be just between the Warrior of Light and Squall. And so, Tyro felt it only fitting to pick out Squall and send him into this as a solo battle. Though, the boy was sure to watch from the outside with childish delight.

"Can you carve out your path- without the help of others?" the memory of the Warrior of Light demanded, "Have you no trust in your ally?"

"I don't need to be lectured by you," Squall responded coldly, the scripted words rolled off the tongue. He barely even remembered what the issue was. Back then, the Warrior of Light was quite blindly devoted to Cosmos. Without caring about the context, Squall raised his gunblade, and his eyes burned with a fire to fight.

It began without warning. The two fighters didn't need a starting signal; they rushed at each other with a suddenness that knew no dramatic pause. With heavy strides, Squall's boots thudded against the crystal floor, charging ahead without fear. Fighting was what he was born for. And the Warrior of Light too, began his assault.

In only a short moment, the distance between them was gone. With a clang, they clashed. Gunblade against sword, Squall pushed the heavy knight a little backward.

Even alone, Squall had the advantage. He may not have been a mythical knight, but he was an expert at swordsmanship. Many underestimated him for his age, but there were few more adept and dexterous with a blade than he in the entire Archives. And the Warrior of Light's movements almost seemed slow by comparison.

Squall knew he could still overwhelm the boss with brute force. He wasn't taking this completely seriously. There was no one to cast Protect on him, and no one to heal him. He had brought Drain Strike, just in case; but it seemed like he may not even need it. The "real" Warrior of Light (who was likely watching this fight with a small feeling of nostalgia) had become much stronger than he was during this old memory.

Squall unleashed a Mystic Flurry on the opponent before him. The Warrior of Light was sluggish under the onslaught of frigid blasts. As Squall swung, frost crackled from the end of Squall's blade, and swirled around the SeeD, endowing him with an icy chill.

Taking a moment for a wind-up, the Warrior of Light released a Shining Wave that headed straight for the mercenary, chasing him as Squall strafed to avoid it. Seeing no other option, he took the full force of the hit, head-on. Under the light, Squall felt a light burn on the entirety of his skin, but mostly, the blast of force. Still, without flinching, he continued his charge forward, through the light, and slashed at the knight with four quick driving movements.

Even if that Snowspell Strike wasn't enough to finish the job, Squall would continue to barrage the opponent in front of him with more and more swings of his gunblade. And in no time at all, the fight was over; the Warrior of Light crumpled down onto one knee. Then, the memory faded away, leaving the real hero record standing tall.

Squall remembered that back when it first actually happened, the fight was much more evenly matched. He considered going to the real Warrior of Light and reminding him of this duel (now that he remembered). If he wasn't so restrained when it came to communicating with others, he would've wanted to remind the Warrior of the words they spoke afterward.

'I haven't forgotten," Squall thought, 'None of us are alone.'

Squall knew why he wasn't homesick. He had a mission. His duty was to clear the darkness from corrupting his realm, sure. But he felt his true duty was to watch over Rinoa. Watch over his comrades. He was a commander, a warrior, a guardian. His family was here.

With eyes closed for a moment, Squall took a deep breath. Then, he turned and headed for the exit to the dungeon floor. With a step through the door into the light, he was outside of the painting; his torso and legs coming out of the solid mural as if through liquid.

Outside, Squall was face-to-face with a grinning Tyro. The boy had been rushing to clear all the floors from the recent Dissidia warp and get as much Mythril as possible. But this didn't mean he couldn't have some fun with it. He was glad that it wasn't a waste of his energy, too. He was exhausted. Regardless, there was still a week left to finish before the event warp disappeared forever. Tyro was certain he would finish in time; just not tonight. And with that, he and Squall exited the ever-changing hall of Event Dungeons.

The mercenary commander was a little perturbed that Tyro would risk the loss of stamina over a solo challenge (Tyro was already barely standing as it is). To Squall, there was little more important than the mission. But at the same time, the SeeD couldn't help but revel in his victory, just a bit. It was a personal fight, and not too demanding of a challenge. So, he kept his complaints to himself. As Squall and Tyro were both heading in the same direction, they walked together in silence.

Once again, Squall was left to his thoughts. On rare occasions, Cosmos' Chosen would all reunite and discuss current events; like new recruits or current dungeons. In-name, this was exactly the sort of thing that Squall could still be interested in. However, a few records (namely Zidane, Tidus, and Bartz) used much of this time to goof around.

For instance, Zidane was annoyingly open about his sex life to the other men (probably much to Garnet's chagrin). And worse, Zidane would pry into the bedroom affairs of the other heroes. Most of the other overly-chivalrous and antiquated records that were in attendance were too polite to tell the morons not to deviate too far from the focal points of discussion. That is, other than Cloud and Squall, who had no reluctance in telling anyone to shut up when they needed to.

So, Zidane normally waited until the end of their meetings. Still, since he brought up the subject matter at all, Squall couldn't help but ponder the connection between sensuality and romance within his own relationship more often.

Now, Squall was no prude, but he had zero desire to discuss such things to his peers. Unfortunately for Squall, this didn't work both ways. He was the 'Garnet' in his relationship, while Rinoa was apparently fairly chatty about salacious details with the other girls. This, was something Squall found pretty embarrassing (possibly mortifying). But he supposed it was inevitable; Rinoa was one of the youngest women in most of her friend groups, and probably looked to the older girls for both wisdom and approval.

Right then, Squall and Tyro reached the campground. The mercenary hadn't intended to be quiet the entire way. He had some respect for the little Record Keeper, and didn't intend on hurting the boy's feelings. However, Tyro too was abnormally somber, and didn't seem to take much notice of Squall either (the boy was quite used to standoffish hero records by now). Rather, during the silence, Tyro was lost in thought. This wasn't the norm.

From here, Squall would need to walk a ways west to get to his and Rinoa's shared tent. And Tyro would need to head north toward the archives. With a tired smile, Tyro looked up at Squall and gave him a pat on the leg (unable to reach the man's back) and then the two went their separate ways. Little did Tyro know that he had an ordeal waiting for him around the corner.

Hey all! Not sure what genres I should place this as (Since I feel it has elements of Humor, Family, Suspense, Fantasy, Adventure, and Romance), or what content rating I'm supposed to place this as since I've increased the mature content. Let me know what you think about anything in the reviews!

Update: I realized the story was a bit slow in the beginning, with a lot of day-to-day reminiscing, idle pondering, and slice-of-life conversations. So, I placed a fighting prologue here and juiced up the next couple of chapters.

I'm expecting to reach around thirty chapters before the story ends. Follow or favorite to let me know I gotta keep updating!