The little girl ran through the forest, the snow biting at her bare feet, and the wind threatening to whip off the tattered shawl she wore over her thin shoulders. Her dress, too small for her, could hardly keep her warm; it was more like tissue paper than cloth. Her thick, crimped purple hair streamed out behind her as she ran, her breathing harsh and ragged in the still morning air.
Behind her, a great machine lumbered, crushing towering trees like just so much firewood. The little girl glanced back in terror, but she refused to stop running; her mother had told her to meet in Sacred's Grove, and there she would go.
A single cry escaped her as she tripped over a root and fell hard to the ground, but she was up and running again, ignoring the blood dripping down her knee. She gritted her teeth so she wouldn't cry; she wouldn't shame her mother, who had always taught her to be strong in the face of adversity. Her mother would disapprove of her crying out.
As the great machine loomed closer, it's great tires crushing everything in the way, the little girl could hear the coarse laughter of the soldiers controlling the monstrosity. A curse came to her lips, but up ahead she could see the break in the trees that signaled the opening to Sacred's Grove. Even soldiers of Esthar refused to desecrate that holy ground. The little girl pushed herself harder, sure that she would be safe if only she could reach the clearing.
With a final burst of speed, she flung herself through the opening, inches from the crushing treads of the metal monster. Iron groaned as the machine slid to a stop. The soldiers swore and whipped the machine around again. The little girl picked herself up, then shrieked at the sight before her. A young woman's lifeless body lay on the cold, hard ground, twisted and broken like a giant's forgotten plaything. Blood spread in a frozen puddle around her, her once white dress now stained deep crimson.
"Nooo!" The little girl screamed. "Mother!"
"MOTHER!" The cry echoed, and the young woman who had voiced it sat straight up in her bed, her eyes wide in the darkness of the train compartment. She put a hand to her throat and, feeling the wild beating of her heart, tried to slow down her erratic breathing. A quick glance at the clock told her it was a little after two in the morning. A light knock sounded at her door.
"Miss Faralse? Are you okay? We heard a scream." The voice belonged to her instructor, Salsha Murak.
"Amyra? Can we come in?" That was Rali, Amyra's best friend and the adopted son of the Arictas, the wealthiest family on Centra.
"No, you may not come in, Rali. It was only a nightmare; I'm fine. Why don't you two go back to bed." Amyra replied, her clear bell-like voice carrying across the room.
"We're arriving at the Garden in the morning. Maybe when you can sleep in a normal bed..." Salsha trailed off, and Amyra heard him and Rali go back to their own rooms.
With a sigh, Amyra settled back into the bed. She knew she was only reliving her childhood in the dreams, but she wished they would stop. She had been six years old then, and it was eleven years since Trebak Garden had been invaded by Esthar. Eleven years since her mother had been killed...
Amyra punched the pillow, then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep again.
"Mother! NO! Mother, please!" The little girl, Amyra, cried. She dropped to her knees beside the woman's body, and shook her. Blood stained her hands, and Amyra looked at them in horror.
"What have you done, child?" The low voice came from behind Amyra, and the child jumped. She whirled around, and stared up at a tall man wearing a black cloak with a hood. His face was so deep in shadow she couldn't see any of it; but malevolent crimson eyes glared out at her. A strange sword hung from his ornate belt, and Amyra shivered as she recognized the runes inscribed upon it: Death, Destruction, Famine, Pillage, Disease. The man raised a gaunt hand; it looked like a skeleton was reaching for Amyra.
"Why have you killed this woman?" The man asked, his voice sounding almost like a snake's hiss. He reached out to touch Amyra. Amyra screamed in terror, trying to get away from that skeletal hand. There was a brilliant flash of white light, and then Amyra slipped into the blackness.
"AMYRA! Run!" The voice, that of Rali, jolted Amyra out of her dream. She leaped out of bed, and turned towards the door. Before she could move, the door burst open and a group of howling savages stalked into the room. Amyra swore and pulled her athame out of it's sheath around her waist. One of the savages chuckled hoarsely, and advanced toward her with a crouching stride. He had a wickedly curved sword in one hand, and Amyra stared at it. It was inscribed with the same runes as the one the man in her dream had! In that split-second hesitation, the savage leapt, knocking Amyra back onto the bed. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed. The athame dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers.
"Hai!" Amyra yelled, shoving her feet into the savage's stomach and pushing with all her might. The savage flew across the room, to hit the wall with a sickening thump. Amyra grabbed her athame just in time to block a sword slash by another savage. She tried desperately to reach her own sword, hanging at the end of the bed. In the darkness, the savages hadn't noticed it yet.
"Amyra! Rali!" Salsha burst into the room, black hair sticking straight up and his grey eyes wild. He pulled his throwing-stars out of his belt and whipped it at the savage holding Amyra down. The man fell, the star buried in his back. The other savages backed off, falling back towards the other end of the room. Salsha pressed them, swinging his jo threateningly.
Amyra pulled her sword free of it's sheath, then whirled around as more savages came pouring into the room. She shouted a warning to Salsha, but it was too late; a blow to the head sent Salsha slumping to the floor. One of the savages, howling in glee, pulled out a dagger and thrust it towards Salsha's heart.
Amyra flung herself towards Salsha and the savage, slamming into the savage. He turned with a snarl and drove his dagger into Amyra's sword-arm. Amyra bit her lip on a cry and slashed the savage across the stomach with her athame. He fell back, trying to hold the gaping wound in his belly closed. Amyra whirled around Salsha's body, desperately trying to keep him and herself safe.
Suddenly, Amyra's foot slipped on the carpet, and she fell heavily. Immediately, the savages were on her, grabbing her arms and hauling her to her feet. One of them, a tall, heavily muscled young man, grinned wolfishly at her and drew his dagger across her waist. The thin cotton of her pajamas separated, and a thin crimson line appeared across her stomach. Amyra struggled wildly, but the savages holding her were too strong. The leader turned away from Amyra and gestured to one of his cronies. The other savage dragged Salsha over to the leader. Looking at Amyra out of the corner of his eye, the leader put his blade gently to Salsha's neck and pressed slightly. The leader glanced at Amyra with narrowed eyes.
"What do you WANT from me? Leave Salsha alone!" Amyra screamed, trying to get her arms free.
"You heard the lady." The quiet voice came from the doorway. There was a shot, and the leader put a hand to his bloody chest wonderingly, then fell face-down over Salsha. In an instant, it seemed as though the room was alive with gunfire. A young woman who looked about the same age as Amyra herself cut down the savages around her with a whip. Amyra smiled in thanks at the blonde who had set her free, then wove around the fighting to reach Salsha. She shoved the leader off him, and put her head against his chest. To her relief, he was still breathing.
"Hey, look out!" Amyra whirled around just in time to catch a blade headed at her face. As she struggled to keep the savage from cutting her throat, she caught sight of a blue blur, and the savage was thrown halfway across the room. The person who had saved her, a young man with spiked blond hair and a scarlet tattoo on the side of his face, grinned and extended a hand to help pull her up.
"You should be more careful. I'm Zell Dincht." He said. Amyra looked around and saw that any savages who hadn't been killed or knocked unconscious were lined against the wall, while a young man with long, reddish-brown hair guarded them with what looked like a shotgun.
"Amyra. Amyra Faralse." Amyra said wonderingly. "You got rid of all of them." The young man laughed and scratched the back of his head.
"Hey, it's our job. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so." For the first time, Amyra became aware of the pain in her arm. She looked at it and saw her pajama shirt was soaked with blood.
"You sure? That's an awful lot of blood." Zell replied, looking concerned.
"Yeah. Wait, where's Rali?" Amyra spun around and ran toward the door. She almost collided with another young man, this one wearing black pants and a black jacket over a white shirt. He had dark brown hair and serious eyes. Surprised, he brought up his gunblade. Amyra, hardly even noticing his different clothes in her hurry to find Rali, whipped her athame up and slashed at his chest. He just managed to block it with his gunblade, and then Amyra was past him and running down the hall.
"Rali! RALI!" she yelled, rounding the corner so fast she almost crashed into the wall, and sprinting into Rali's room. She stopped dead at the scene. Two young women, one with average length black hair and the other with short brown hair, were kneeling by Rali. Rali was lying on his back, his face dead white and blood covering the front of his tunic.
"Rali?" she whispered. "No, please, not Rali!" The girl with the black hair looked at her with sympathy.
"I'm so incredibly sorry." She said softly. "We couldn't do anything for him."
"No. You're lying. Rali can't be dead! Not Rali, he would never go and die on me..." Amyra dropped at Rali's side and stared at him. She traced a finger gently down the faint scar on his forehead; the result of a childhood accident. With a strangled sob, Amyra put her head down on Rali's chest and wept.
"Oh no..." Quistis said softly, appearing in the doorway. Rinoa and Selphie got up and walked over to her.
"We couldn't do anything for him, Quistis." Selphie said with a catch in her voice. "Nothing at all."
"Rali, Rali, why did you go and die on me? Please, Rali, please come back." Amyra whispered, her long, crimped dark purple hair hanging around her face like a curtain. Without even noticing it, she was holding a pendant around her neck as she pleaded.
"What happened?" Zell asked quietly as he and Squall came up behind the three girls. Irvine was still guarding the savages.
"When we got here, he was still alive, but then one of the savages shot him. We tried to heal him, but it just didn't work." Rinoa replied. A single tear trickled down her cheek as she watched the other girl cry over the young man. Suddenly, she gasped.
"Look! That girl, she's glowing." Rinoa pointed to the girl, and soon the others could see it too. A silver glow, dull at first, then brightening until it lit the whole room, surrounded Amyra. The radiance expanded to encompass Rali. Amyra, her eyes closed, spread her fingers over Rali's wound. Purple tendrils inched out from the silver to cover the gash. As the onlookers stared, the ugly hole began to close itself up. With a final flash of purple streaked silver, the wound vanished except for a very faint scar. Rali's chest rose as he began to breathe again. His eyes were still closed, but his breathing soon became regular and even again.
"Rali?" Amyra whispered, standing up, looking at him, and swaying slightly, then turning to look straight at Zell. Zell realized with a start that she had golden eyes, slit-pupiled like a cat's. Slowly, she looked at each of them, then stumbled towards the group. With a faint soft sigh, she collapsed into Zell's arms.
Behind her, a great machine lumbered, crushing towering trees like just so much firewood. The little girl glanced back in terror, but she refused to stop running; her mother had told her to meet in Sacred's Grove, and there she would go.
A single cry escaped her as she tripped over a root and fell hard to the ground, but she was up and running again, ignoring the blood dripping down her knee. She gritted her teeth so she wouldn't cry; she wouldn't shame her mother, who had always taught her to be strong in the face of adversity. Her mother would disapprove of her crying out.
As the great machine loomed closer, it's great tires crushing everything in the way, the little girl could hear the coarse laughter of the soldiers controlling the monstrosity. A curse came to her lips, but up ahead she could see the break in the trees that signaled the opening to Sacred's Grove. Even soldiers of Esthar refused to desecrate that holy ground. The little girl pushed herself harder, sure that she would be safe if only she could reach the clearing.
With a final burst of speed, she flung herself through the opening, inches from the crushing treads of the metal monster. Iron groaned as the machine slid to a stop. The soldiers swore and whipped the machine around again. The little girl picked herself up, then shrieked at the sight before her. A young woman's lifeless body lay on the cold, hard ground, twisted and broken like a giant's forgotten plaything. Blood spread in a frozen puddle around her, her once white dress now stained deep crimson.
"Nooo!" The little girl screamed. "Mother!"
"MOTHER!" The cry echoed, and the young woman who had voiced it sat straight up in her bed, her eyes wide in the darkness of the train compartment. She put a hand to her throat and, feeling the wild beating of her heart, tried to slow down her erratic breathing. A quick glance at the clock told her it was a little after two in the morning. A light knock sounded at her door.
"Miss Faralse? Are you okay? We heard a scream." The voice belonged to her instructor, Salsha Murak.
"Amyra? Can we come in?" That was Rali, Amyra's best friend and the adopted son of the Arictas, the wealthiest family on Centra.
"No, you may not come in, Rali. It was only a nightmare; I'm fine. Why don't you two go back to bed." Amyra replied, her clear bell-like voice carrying across the room.
"We're arriving at the Garden in the morning. Maybe when you can sleep in a normal bed..." Salsha trailed off, and Amyra heard him and Rali go back to their own rooms.
With a sigh, Amyra settled back into the bed. She knew she was only reliving her childhood in the dreams, but she wished they would stop. She had been six years old then, and it was eleven years since Trebak Garden had been invaded by Esthar. Eleven years since her mother had been killed...
Amyra punched the pillow, then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep again.
"Mother! NO! Mother, please!" The little girl, Amyra, cried. She dropped to her knees beside the woman's body, and shook her. Blood stained her hands, and Amyra looked at them in horror.
"What have you done, child?" The low voice came from behind Amyra, and the child jumped. She whirled around, and stared up at a tall man wearing a black cloak with a hood. His face was so deep in shadow she couldn't see any of it; but malevolent crimson eyes glared out at her. A strange sword hung from his ornate belt, and Amyra shivered as she recognized the runes inscribed upon it: Death, Destruction, Famine, Pillage, Disease. The man raised a gaunt hand; it looked like a skeleton was reaching for Amyra.
"Why have you killed this woman?" The man asked, his voice sounding almost like a snake's hiss. He reached out to touch Amyra. Amyra screamed in terror, trying to get away from that skeletal hand. There was a brilliant flash of white light, and then Amyra slipped into the blackness.
"AMYRA! Run!" The voice, that of Rali, jolted Amyra out of her dream. She leaped out of bed, and turned towards the door. Before she could move, the door burst open and a group of howling savages stalked into the room. Amyra swore and pulled her athame out of it's sheath around her waist. One of the savages chuckled hoarsely, and advanced toward her with a crouching stride. He had a wickedly curved sword in one hand, and Amyra stared at it. It was inscribed with the same runes as the one the man in her dream had! In that split-second hesitation, the savage leapt, knocking Amyra back onto the bed. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed. The athame dropped from suddenly nerveless fingers.
"Hai!" Amyra yelled, shoving her feet into the savage's stomach and pushing with all her might. The savage flew across the room, to hit the wall with a sickening thump. Amyra grabbed her athame just in time to block a sword slash by another savage. She tried desperately to reach her own sword, hanging at the end of the bed. In the darkness, the savages hadn't noticed it yet.
"Amyra! Rali!" Salsha burst into the room, black hair sticking straight up and his grey eyes wild. He pulled his throwing-stars out of his belt and whipped it at the savage holding Amyra down. The man fell, the star buried in his back. The other savages backed off, falling back towards the other end of the room. Salsha pressed them, swinging his jo threateningly.
Amyra pulled her sword free of it's sheath, then whirled around as more savages came pouring into the room. She shouted a warning to Salsha, but it was too late; a blow to the head sent Salsha slumping to the floor. One of the savages, howling in glee, pulled out a dagger and thrust it towards Salsha's heart.
Amyra flung herself towards Salsha and the savage, slamming into the savage. He turned with a snarl and drove his dagger into Amyra's sword-arm. Amyra bit her lip on a cry and slashed the savage across the stomach with her athame. He fell back, trying to hold the gaping wound in his belly closed. Amyra whirled around Salsha's body, desperately trying to keep him and herself safe.
Suddenly, Amyra's foot slipped on the carpet, and she fell heavily. Immediately, the savages were on her, grabbing her arms and hauling her to her feet. One of them, a tall, heavily muscled young man, grinned wolfishly at her and drew his dagger across her waist. The thin cotton of her pajamas separated, and a thin crimson line appeared across her stomach. Amyra struggled wildly, but the savages holding her were too strong. The leader turned away from Amyra and gestured to one of his cronies. The other savage dragged Salsha over to the leader. Looking at Amyra out of the corner of his eye, the leader put his blade gently to Salsha's neck and pressed slightly. The leader glanced at Amyra with narrowed eyes.
"What do you WANT from me? Leave Salsha alone!" Amyra screamed, trying to get her arms free.
"You heard the lady." The quiet voice came from the doorway. There was a shot, and the leader put a hand to his bloody chest wonderingly, then fell face-down over Salsha. In an instant, it seemed as though the room was alive with gunfire. A young woman who looked about the same age as Amyra herself cut down the savages around her with a whip. Amyra smiled in thanks at the blonde who had set her free, then wove around the fighting to reach Salsha. She shoved the leader off him, and put her head against his chest. To her relief, he was still breathing.
"Hey, look out!" Amyra whirled around just in time to catch a blade headed at her face. As she struggled to keep the savage from cutting her throat, she caught sight of a blue blur, and the savage was thrown halfway across the room. The person who had saved her, a young man with spiked blond hair and a scarlet tattoo on the side of his face, grinned and extended a hand to help pull her up.
"You should be more careful. I'm Zell Dincht." He said. Amyra looked around and saw that any savages who hadn't been killed or knocked unconscious were lined against the wall, while a young man with long, reddish-brown hair guarded them with what looked like a shotgun.
"Amyra. Amyra Faralse." Amyra said wonderingly. "You got rid of all of them." The young man laughed and scratched the back of his head.
"Hey, it's our job. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so." For the first time, Amyra became aware of the pain in her arm. She looked at it and saw her pajama shirt was soaked with blood.
"You sure? That's an awful lot of blood." Zell replied, looking concerned.
"Yeah. Wait, where's Rali?" Amyra spun around and ran toward the door. She almost collided with another young man, this one wearing black pants and a black jacket over a white shirt. He had dark brown hair and serious eyes. Surprised, he brought up his gunblade. Amyra, hardly even noticing his different clothes in her hurry to find Rali, whipped her athame up and slashed at his chest. He just managed to block it with his gunblade, and then Amyra was past him and running down the hall.
"Rali! RALI!" she yelled, rounding the corner so fast she almost crashed into the wall, and sprinting into Rali's room. She stopped dead at the scene. Two young women, one with average length black hair and the other with short brown hair, were kneeling by Rali. Rali was lying on his back, his face dead white and blood covering the front of his tunic.
"Rali?" she whispered. "No, please, not Rali!" The girl with the black hair looked at her with sympathy.
"I'm so incredibly sorry." She said softly. "We couldn't do anything for him."
"No. You're lying. Rali can't be dead! Not Rali, he would never go and die on me..." Amyra dropped at Rali's side and stared at him. She traced a finger gently down the faint scar on his forehead; the result of a childhood accident. With a strangled sob, Amyra put her head down on Rali's chest and wept.
"Oh no..." Quistis said softly, appearing in the doorway. Rinoa and Selphie got up and walked over to her.
"We couldn't do anything for him, Quistis." Selphie said with a catch in her voice. "Nothing at all."
"Rali, Rali, why did you go and die on me? Please, Rali, please come back." Amyra whispered, her long, crimped dark purple hair hanging around her face like a curtain. Without even noticing it, she was holding a pendant around her neck as she pleaded.
"What happened?" Zell asked quietly as he and Squall came up behind the three girls. Irvine was still guarding the savages.
"When we got here, he was still alive, but then one of the savages shot him. We tried to heal him, but it just didn't work." Rinoa replied. A single tear trickled down her cheek as she watched the other girl cry over the young man. Suddenly, she gasped.
"Look! That girl, she's glowing." Rinoa pointed to the girl, and soon the others could see it too. A silver glow, dull at first, then brightening until it lit the whole room, surrounded Amyra. The radiance expanded to encompass Rali. Amyra, her eyes closed, spread her fingers over Rali's wound. Purple tendrils inched out from the silver to cover the gash. As the onlookers stared, the ugly hole began to close itself up. With a final flash of purple streaked silver, the wound vanished except for a very faint scar. Rali's chest rose as he began to breathe again. His eyes were still closed, but his breathing soon became regular and even again.
"Rali?" Amyra whispered, standing up, looking at him, and swaying slightly, then turning to look straight at Zell. Zell realized with a start that she had golden eyes, slit-pupiled like a cat's. Slowly, she looked at each of them, then stumbled towards the group. With a faint soft sigh, she collapsed into Zell's arms.