I do not own Final Fantasy VII. I got bored this weekened and decided to resurrect the plotline of The Angel's Queen and continue the story. I know I should stop being lazy and think up a new story to work on...but I just thought I'd experiment and see how this turns out. Who knows? Maybe it'll be as good as the last one. Keep up with me please, this is set 6 years after the ending of The Angel's Queen and focuses more on Seraphim...but for those of pervs (like me!) who want some hot TifaxSeph action...this has that too.


The Angel's Heir

Prologue: His Vision

It was dark, completely black. The only thing Seraphim could see was a shadowy entity...the figure of a person in the otherwise solid blackness. He tried to approach it, but was as if his legs were trapped inside something...or if he were paralyzed. He could not make out any distinguishing features, only that the lithe figure was undoubtedly that of a female.

"Seraphim..." She breathed. "Seraphim..."

Seraphim woke up. He blinked a few times before focusing his gaze on the ceiling. He breathed in deeply, turning to look at the clock. Squinting through the darkness, he found that it was only four o'clock in the morning, so he rolled back over. He could make sense of the unnerving feeling his dream had left him with. Perhaps it was due to his impromptu awakening. But it felt deeper than just a sudden start. He felt like he should know that woman, like somehow she was a part of him, or he of her. His gut twisted and he felt sick.

Getting up and rushing to the bathroom, Seraphim barely made it to the toilet before he vomited. After a moment of listening to his head buzzing and waiting for the room to stop spinning, he went to the sink to wash his face. The cool water was welcome on his heated skin and he wondered if he was ill with a fever. He felt a little better, though his nausea was still lightly present. His head ached with a dull throb and he breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth rhythmically.

With dizzy eyes, Seraphim looked at the mirror. He had grown up handsomely, now 17-years-old, he very much resembled his father more than ever. He had a broad, muscular build and wore his silver hair long and parted down the middle. His eyes too were emerald green with cat-slit pupils...a frightening yet intriguing feature that, on his father, was known to strike fear into the hearts of all who saw them. However Seraphim looked very much less scary, perhaps it was due to the soft lines and baby-roundness of his face that he inherited from his mother. But Seraphim was not looking at his reflection. Instead, he was looking past himself, gazing into nothing...just letting the horrible buzzing in his ears and the spinning in his eyes to cease.

As soon as he was able to stand without stumbling, Seraphim slinked on back to bed.