Regaining The Past
a chrono short fic
Author's Note: This is a bastardization of an old ficcy I wrote like, forever ago. This version consists of several paragraphs per chapter, thus yielding a better update thingy, I think. It's not a full fledged fic, but who knows how it will be in the end?
Stick around:) It's also very AU. It follows some of the characters in another universe, a bit perpindicular to the one featured in Cross.
Chapter One:
The Banks of Winter/
Her eyes scanned the grounds below, taking in the brilliant whitish-blue, crispy glaze of freshly fallen snow upon the jagged rocks of the mountain. He had disappeared down there. Whoever the man was, she could tell he was up to something big; something life changing, something damn dangerous. It was in her best interest to find that man and force the information out of him. He had something of hers she'd make him give back.
Come out, wherever you are, you bastard, she thought, digging in her pocket for a jewel-studded dagger and a wetstone to sharpen it on. I'll make ya talk. There's no runnin' now.
She was a member of the Radical Dreamers, for Gaia's sake. To have been thwarted by a common thief would be embarrassing, especially with a reputation as bloodied as hers. It became her goal to hunt this bastard down like the dog he was.
"Give me back the jewel!" she screamed. She took off running down the mountain side, bounding down rock after rock until her feet hit icy ground. He was nowhere in sight. A few hours before, the very same guy, whom she'd met in a Porre tavern, took off with a very valuable Rainbow prism, something she'd owned since the days before the Orphanage burned to the ground. It was a momento of a past nearly forgotten. It was very much jewel-shaped, almost diamond-like in quality.
"You think you can take me, little girl?" came a voice from behind her. The woman felt a pair of strong fists slam into her back, knocking her forcefully down to the ground.
She looked up at him. His face resembled an old prune covered with sharp, pale-blonde bristles she guessed he called a beard. The eyes he owned burned like black coal in his pasty-white face; they were murderous, hateful.. Her heart suddenly beat with a fear she'd never known before.
"So, Kid, looks like you've been one-upped, eh? Ready for the afterlife?"
Kid's dagger was no where in sight. Her blue eyes darted to and fro on the twinkling, snow-ridden ground, but it was lost forever. She cried out in pain as a foot slammed down onto her stomach; she was trapped there! And in his hands were...
"Killed by your own weapon. Ain't that a beauty, too? Damn, what kind of treatment do you Mainland thieves get anyway?" He threw back his head and gave a mirthful laugh. "Doesn't matter. You're gonna die here."
He raised the dagger high above him, eyeing the soft of her throat before bringing it downward in full force.
To be continued..