A/N: So I had this idea just . . . randomly come to me the other day and I knew I had to write it down before I forgot. This is absolute torture having so many story ideas for Final Fantasy VIII come to mind and being unable to publish them all at once. I can't. I don't know how long I'll last not posting them, but we'll find out soon enough (you'll know if you see this on the site before I have at least Addicted finished.) Soo yes. Here is a new story from me =)
Edit: Turns out, I didn't last at all. Ahh, well. You won't hate me for it... right?
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to SquareSoft/Enix, not me.
Full Summary: Rinoa Heartilly was trapped in the Sorceress Memorial, believed to be the Sorceress the cause of the latest war of her time. She was unable to free herself from the eternal sleep she was doomed to face — until one day, a history class visits the memorial, and she awakens from her slumber. Dizzy and confused, she stumbles directly into Squall Leonhart's arms and passes out. She is passed off as a new student at Balamb Garden, and struggles to fit in this futuristic world she knows nothing about. Yet the problems she faced in her own time are not gone, and she finds herself being an instrument of evil once more. Can her new friends save her? Will they even want to, after they learn who she is?
Broken Like An Angel
EilayAdnayVolieay
Chapter One - Prologue
My name is Rinoa Heartilly. When I was five years old, an elderly woman came up to me and told me that I would die on my sixth birthday. My father was furious that she would say such a thing to me when I was just a little kid. I didn't really understand what she was saying, anyway. My mother, however, did, and she grew instantly overprotective of me. It was as if there was something about me that she knew, that I somehow didn't.
Finally my sixth birthday arrived. My mother seemed particularly on edge on this day, though I had forgotten entirely about the old woman's prediction. Perhaps if I had remembered, I would have understood.
She was driving me back home, to where we were to celebrate my "surprise birthday party." It certainly was a surprise — when I was brought home by the police, who told my father that my mother had been impaled by another vehicle. How I had escaped unscathed was a complete mystery. If my mother hadn't died, she would have told me how I survived — told me what I was.
—
Around my fifteenth birthday, I began realizing that something was very different. About me, about the things I saw, heard, and could do. In school, we were taught that magic was forbidden — which meant I had to hide the fact that I had magical capabilities. If they knew, I'd face a much worse consequence than simply being expelled.
And then, the dreams came. Horrible images of death and brutal killings, which would have been frightening enough if it hadn't been me committing these horrible deeds. Why? My face was always so blank, yet the smile on my face so chilling to watch. At first, I thought they were just dreams — until I started blacking out.
I would black out for long periods of time, and when I came back to consciousness, I wouldn't recall how I got to where I was. I'd hear thoughts in my mind that didn't seem to belong to me, even though I knew they must. I felt violated — as if my most precious sanctuary had been broken into.
It was when I turned sixteen that things took a turn for the worse. A student was murdered, and rumours of a new and evil Sorceress on the horizon were spread around the country. I was as terrified as everyone else was. Mainly because I knew I would be even more under suspicion if my use of magic was discovered; but also because I knew that a Sorceress would not want competition. I would be a threat, even if I didn't want to be.
My blackouts continued. I began finding myself able to use my magic for much more powerful spells that I had never been able to accomplish on my own before.
That was when I first heard her speak to me. Not placing thoughts into my subconscious, not leading me to believe anything. Her voice was strong and clear in my mind. She was there . . . and she was using me.
My name is Rinoa Heartilly, and I was once an instrument of evil to the Sorceress from the future Ultimecia.
Where am I now, you ask? Well, that's a much longer story.
A/N: Very, very short prologue. That I realize. I'm really... I don't know... excited about this story. I have a lot planned for it. And upon finishing this first prologue chapter, I realize that unlike the other new stories that I have planned — some with several chapters already completed — I CANNOT WAIT to upload this one. So, I'm breaking my vow not to start a new story until Addicted is done. I know, I know... I'm horrible. But maybe you'll read this story, and decide you like it. The first chapter probably isn't enough to really tell if you will. But, maybe the summary? I'll try and update my other stories soon. I think I just... need to get some sort of chapter of SOMETHING out to get back into the mood of writing. Maybe this story is the cure to my writers block. R&R!