Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 8 and all related characters/places/etc remain the sole property of Square-Enix.
A/N: Aldebaran is the name of a red giant star in the constellation of Taurus. From the Arabic, Al Dabaran, it means "the follower."
Aldebaran
The castle rose up out of the mists of time, a twisted, gnarled mass of pain. Every arch, every buttress was constructed with an eye for misery. The sorceress Ultimecia roamed inside, haunting the hallways like a phantom. Seifer knew she was there. And among the stone and mortar of her past, he sought her. All of time was entwined – compressed – inside the castle, forever and never weaved together into the hazy tapestry of reality. Lightning flashed overhead with an ominous grumble and below a field that was simultaneously fragrant and stagnant caressed the Centra hillside. Air that was sweet and sacred filled his lungs.
She was waiting for him. She'd called him here.
He twitched with anticipation, needing her, and delighted in the idea that she needed him as well. This was his dream come to fruition. It was everything he'd ever wanted out of life. His heart hammered in anticipation.
The castle creaked and groaned as he entered it. The place was massive. Candles flickered along the walls, casting long shadows across the floor. The flames burned his eyes and made the world seem to melt away. He could easily forget himself here. Perhaps that was the point. The convoluted structure lived and breathed within a paradox, defied all rules of existence.
His steps echoed down the hallway.
An image of her floated before his mind's eye, wings arching from her back like inky midnight. He could see the sort curve of her face, the gentle crescent of her lips. Long, supple lashes shuttered her exotic eyes and her skin was painted like that of a pagan goddess.
'Goddess' was an appropriate word for her, he decided.
She lurked everywhere he looked. Shadows of her past pirouetted along the walls to tease and tantalize him. They whispered, knowing already what would happen when he found her. They knew his mistress's secrets. They knew his secrets, too, and all of the dirty, wretched thoughts that only she could erase. Only she could make him forget, make him feel again.
He sought out her throne by following a path of lit candles. They flared to life as he walked, urging him forward.
Her throne room, though massive, was well hidden and difficult to get to even with her guidance. By the time he reached it, his blood was coursing hotly. He was nearly drunk with anticipation as he reeled around corners, climbed staircases, and abandoned his mind to her careful control. None of the dark paintings he passed penetrated his mind. He didn't notice the slashed canvas, the imagery of disease and destruction. He was oblivious to the crouching shadows of the huge monsters that defended the castle. He was unaware of all of the signs that pointed to her true nature.
"I've been waiting for you," she said when he pushed through the tall double doors of her throne room.
She had her back to him, but even so her smooth voice wrapped tightly about him. It was like honey – sweet enough to overwhelm – and locked his jaw, making it impossible for him to reply. He'd learned that she didn't expect him to. She already knew all that was in his mind and speaking to her was an insult. He couldn't defile her presence with his rough, inadequate words.
Her ebony wings twitched so that the candlelight was lost inside of them. Between them cascaded pure, glistening white hair. It made a stark contrast and Seifer wasn't sure what intrigued him more.
As she turned to face him, her delicate features peeking over the end of one downy wing, the whole throne room with all of its gilded magnificence seemed to fade away. His knees went weak and his mind hummed as if dazzled by a sudden display of vibrant color. Sensations ripped through his body at the mere sight of her. There was a lifetime of scintillating experience in one rise and fall of her luscious lashes.
She smiled, the corners of her mouth curving ever so slightly and the onslaught abruptly stopped. It took Seifer several long moments to come down from the resulting euphoria, and when he did he found himself standing dumb in front of her. She was facing him now, her dress sweeping the floor. Looking down her body, he followed a stretch of skin from her collarbone to her navel before falling to his knees before her.
He wanted to serve, to be rewarded.
"Little knight," she cooed, one of her delicate hands coming under his chin to turn his face upwards. "You have come for your dreams?"
He nodded, choking back the conflicting emotions that looking her in the eye stirred up. She was a sorceress, the painted skin and lithe body just a mask for what really lurked underneath. Beautiful. Intoxicating. But dangerous. Part of him was afraid of her. The common sense that would have told him to run struggled to surface against his driving need to worship her. He was addicted. Without her gifts, he felt like he might crumble.
Stamping down all thoughts that she might not be the ethereal being he adored, he lifted his hands and held them palm up to her. She wanted to see what he had done in her honor. Though all real traces of blood had been washed away, under her gaze the flood of death returned and dripped crimson across the planes and fissures of his hands to the floor.
A thrill raced through him when she nodded with approval. She was difficult to please and he'd worked so hard this time to go above and beyond what she'd asked. Her eyes grew shadowed and he couldn't suppress a shudder of pleasure. She noticed it and her wings brushed cool against his hot skin as she brought him back to his feet.
"Do you love me, Knight?" she asked.
He nodded, his mouth dry.
Her wings folded around him until they met behind his back. The moment they touched, they were immersed in darkness – a curious void in which nothing else existed. She was standing close to him, bereft of her wings, which now surrounded them completely. The sweet, tortured scent of her danced on the air, wringing a cry out of Seifer that was some mix of pain and joy.
Only here, in this netherworld of her creation, was he allowed to touch her. He wasn't even positive that she was real. Her dress felt like velvet, her skin like cream and silk, all a little too perfect. It was the sensations she created in his mind that he was after. With one brush of her hand, his brain lit up. He sank into the illusion, bathed in dark nothing as the dream raced hot through his mind. Shivering, he lost all sense of reality.
All at once, he was a hero, a success, a man worth merit and accolades. He was everything he'd ever wanted. Even small desires that nobody but she realized he possessed came true.
Darkness. Infinite joy. Ultimecia.
All were one entangled entity.
Wrapped in the fold of her wings, he didn't know or care that the rest of the world rolled slowly on outside of her time twisted castle. He was at peace, knowing only that to remain so was to serve her.
Red knight of dreams…his blade and soul were hers. He would follow her to the end.