Author's Notes:
Although this was originally intended to be a short spontaneous fic, I have a feeling that it's going to turn out long... I just hope that this time I'll be able to finish it *^_~*
For now, just consider this chapter as the Prologue. I was originally meant to explain why the events in this chapter occur, but I think it's better left as it is. The next chapter will explain further...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
[ Wings ]
» Prologue «
"... Rinoa..."
The once blossom-filled field lay silent and still... Void... Empty. The blossoms were long gone, replaced by rapidly dying blades of grass, which could be seen bathed under the eerie silver moonlight. A place that once held much importance had begun to slowly wither away into the dust... A place once loved had withered into the empty nothingness from hence it came.
"... Where are you?"
The shadowy silhouette of a man appeared amongst the darkness. His features barely recognizable, as if he had no face at all. His sorrowful voice echoed across the void, as though he was longing for something which could not be found... Lost forever. Although the figure's face was blurred, there was still something in him which was easily visible. He had hope. His determination and courage drove him to edge on.
A sudden gust of wind had blasted past and caught the darkened figure off guard. The grass beneath his feet shifted from side to side, as if dancing to the wind's mournful cries. As the grass parted ways, illuminating pearly white feathers rose up from amongst the grass blades. They too began to dance around amongst the great strength of the wind. But there seemed to be something strange about the feathers... It was almost as if they possessed some kind of inexplicable properties... They were magic.
As the feathers continued to dance amongst the wind, the figure clenched his fist around just one and grasped it in between his fingertips. He closed his eyes, still gripping tightly onto the feather and brought it closer to examine it, almost as if it were sacred to him. It was as if the object possessed some kind of hidden meaning that no one but he could understand. The man let out a sigh... A silent cry of pain.
From a distance, the feather would have appeared to be pure white and flawless. But as it was examined up close, it was engulfed in crimson stains. The color was an illusion. The pureness was a lie. When the feather had been thoroughly examined from top to bottom, the figure had allowed the feather to slip away from his grasp and let out a howl of bitter anguish.
"... RINOA!"
The figure fell to his knees in utter hopelessness as though his dreams had just been shattered and torn away for eternity. Sprawled on the grass, with his head drooping down towards the crusted ground, the man had lost all hope for what he was frantically searching for. He was now filled with fear and dreaded what was to come... Has what he feared now become reality?
A crimson blood trail was now visible amongst the grass and the crackled patchwork of dirt, which made up the very ground he was hopelessly sprawled on. His eyes scanned the trail, filling him with fear and a panicked sense of urgency. Yet at the same time, the figure slowly rose to his feet and reluctantly began following the trail, now not wanting to know if what he feared was going to be confirmed. His eyes never left view of the trail once.
As the crimson blood trail began to become more dense, he instantaneously knew that the end of the trail was nearing. His heart was pounding furiously in his chest. At one point, he wondered how much longer it would be until his heart actually burst right out of his chest. After waiting a moment for his heart rate to decrease, he pressed on to the end of the trail, which was engulfed in utter darkness, much thicker now than before. Not only was a shroud of darkness now covering his view, there was also a thin layer of mist rapidly building up. It was almost as if these obstructions were setting the mood for what he was about to discover.
As the end of the trail neared, he let out another gasp, this time much louder than before. Another silhouette of a figure could be seen sprawled amidst the misty darkness. He ran towards the new mysterious figure to get a closer look. As he approached, he could see that the figure was indefinitely female... One of which he recognized as though she were the back of his hand. She was dressed in mostly blue; her clothes wrapped around her in an odd fashion, all ripped and shredded as though she had just emerged from a battle. Bloodstains could also be seen amongst her garments... And protruding from her back were wings... Wings which were once pure, now torn...
An angel had just fallen... His angel. The worst had just been confirmed.
"... RINOA! NOOOOOOO!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Notes: As you may have been able to pick up, this is merely a dream that Squall has... The next chapter will further explain this... As will the rest of the story =) Please R&R? *gRiNs*
Although this was originally intended to be a short spontaneous fic, I have a feeling that it's going to turn out long... I just hope that this time I'll be able to finish it *^_~*
For now, just consider this chapter as the Prologue. I was originally meant to explain why the events in this chapter occur, but I think it's better left as it is. The next chapter will explain further...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
[ Wings ]
» Prologue «
"... Rinoa..."
The once blossom-filled field lay silent and still... Void... Empty. The blossoms were long gone, replaced by rapidly dying blades of grass, which could be seen bathed under the eerie silver moonlight. A place that once held much importance had begun to slowly wither away into the dust... A place once loved had withered into the empty nothingness from hence it came.
"... Where are you?"
The shadowy silhouette of a man appeared amongst the darkness. His features barely recognizable, as if he had no face at all. His sorrowful voice echoed across the void, as though he was longing for something which could not be found... Lost forever. Although the figure's face was blurred, there was still something in him which was easily visible. He had hope. His determination and courage drove him to edge on.
A sudden gust of wind had blasted past and caught the darkened figure off guard. The grass beneath his feet shifted from side to side, as if dancing to the wind's mournful cries. As the grass parted ways, illuminating pearly white feathers rose up from amongst the grass blades. They too began to dance around amongst the great strength of the wind. But there seemed to be something strange about the feathers... It was almost as if they possessed some kind of inexplicable properties... They were magic.
As the feathers continued to dance amongst the wind, the figure clenched his fist around just one and grasped it in between his fingertips. He closed his eyes, still gripping tightly onto the feather and brought it closer to examine it, almost as if it were sacred to him. It was as if the object possessed some kind of hidden meaning that no one but he could understand. The man let out a sigh... A silent cry of pain.
From a distance, the feather would have appeared to be pure white and flawless. But as it was examined up close, it was engulfed in crimson stains. The color was an illusion. The pureness was a lie. When the feather had been thoroughly examined from top to bottom, the figure had allowed the feather to slip away from his grasp and let out a howl of bitter anguish.
"... RINOA!"
The figure fell to his knees in utter hopelessness as though his dreams had just been shattered and torn away for eternity. Sprawled on the grass, with his head drooping down towards the crusted ground, the man had lost all hope for what he was frantically searching for. He was now filled with fear and dreaded what was to come... Has what he feared now become reality?
A crimson blood trail was now visible amongst the grass and the crackled patchwork of dirt, which made up the very ground he was hopelessly sprawled on. His eyes scanned the trail, filling him with fear and a panicked sense of urgency. Yet at the same time, the figure slowly rose to his feet and reluctantly began following the trail, now not wanting to know if what he feared was going to be confirmed. His eyes never left view of the trail once.
As the crimson blood trail began to become more dense, he instantaneously knew that the end of the trail was nearing. His heart was pounding furiously in his chest. At one point, he wondered how much longer it would be until his heart actually burst right out of his chest. After waiting a moment for his heart rate to decrease, he pressed on to the end of the trail, which was engulfed in utter darkness, much thicker now than before. Not only was a shroud of darkness now covering his view, there was also a thin layer of mist rapidly building up. It was almost as if these obstructions were setting the mood for what he was about to discover.
As the end of the trail neared, he let out another gasp, this time much louder than before. Another silhouette of a figure could be seen sprawled amidst the misty darkness. He ran towards the new mysterious figure to get a closer look. As he approached, he could see that the figure was indefinitely female... One of which he recognized as though she were the back of his hand. She was dressed in mostly blue; her clothes wrapped around her in an odd fashion, all ripped and shredded as though she had just emerged from a battle. Bloodstains could also be seen amongst her garments... And protruding from her back were wings... Wings which were once pure, now torn...
An angel had just fallen... His angel. The worst had just been confirmed.
"... RINOA! NOOOOOOO!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Notes: As you may have been able to pick up, this is merely a dream that Squall has... The next chapter will further explain this... As will the rest of the story =) Please R&R? *gRiNs*