Author's Note: It's been a while since I've posted! Along with working on my own original piece (hopefully a sci-fi/fantasy novel or trilogy), I've also gone back to school to achieve a degree to further my career path, as well as dealing with family illnesses. While Breaking Point isn't quite finished, it is pretty close. I hope you enjoy the new fanfic – more details and ratings below!

Full Summary: It has been a year since she watched him disappear into the Iifa Tree – since she's seen those eyes of vivid blue. Dagger has been thinking about him a lot lately – even dreaming of his return during Tantalus' performance! But dreams and illusions of him aren't enough, and the steadfast queen is tired of not knowing the spunky blond's fate; after all, he always came to her rescue…perhaps it is simply her turn. Dagger decides that it's time to go back to the Iifa Tree to search for her lost love. But what will she find when she arrives? An alternate-ending fic.

Characters/Pairings: Revolves primarily around Dagger and Mikoto, involves Blank, Freya, Eiko, Steiner, Beatrix, many other named characters mentioned/cameo; a few OC's (named Genomes and black mages). Obvious Zidaine/Garnet pairing, mentions of Stiener/Beatrix.

Setting: Overall story takes place a year after the start of Final Fantasy IX, on Dagger's seventeenth birthday. The Prologue takes place roughly four to six months prior to fic.

Rating/Plot Warnings: T for some extremely mild violence and language.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, plots, or concepts mentioned in this fanfic. All original characters, plots, concepts, etc., belong to SquareEnix, and I do not profit from subjecting these to my will.

Prologue

Dawn peered over the tree tops, bathing the sleeping village in a warm morning glow. A gentle breeze brushed over him, bringing the crisp fragrance of pine and cedar. It tickled his senses, and gloves pulled at his denim coat distractedly; though the Outer Continent's summers were balmy and muggy, the winters were bitter, and even the springtime air was nippy into the morning. Wind tugged at his hat, and hands wrenched it down quickly as he crossed the veranda. A shiver trickled up his spine, and arms drew closer, still holding on to the oversized hat. Boot soles scuffed as he stumbled on a loose board in the walkway, and he absently noted it needed to be repaired once it warmed up a little.

Long tufts of grass swayed beneath the fence, strands still glazed with a glittering layer of frost. Trembling with the bitter morning breeze, he pushed the door open, closing it behind him quickly. Inside, the air felt a little warmer, though still frigid. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, and fingers shifted the brim of his windblown hat. Vivi gave a quiet cough as his racing heart began to slow, choking on shallow breaths.

"It's cold this morning," he muttered, not quite aloud, but not to himself either. "Not as cold as the Ice Cavern though," he added, still catching his breath. Shivering, he drew his coat closer, gloves brushing the worn denim absently, and feet shifted awkwardly. The mage swallowed, uncertain of his uneasiness, and settled into the rickety wooden chair. "I feel tired…" Vivi continued finally, sighing. "I…I haven't told Mikoto, but…" he hesitated, the words heavy in his chest. Like stones, like an anchor pulling at his heart. Gloved fingers trembled, and he wrung them in his lap in hopes of stilling them. He took in a breath, closing his eyes as he willed himself to finish.

"…I think…I think I'm going to stop soon…" the mage admitted finally, weakly. "I…I can feel it…" His voice trailed with his thoughts, distant, digging through memories and flipping through his past. Bitter heat nipped at his eyes, stinging like salty seawater, and they clenched tighter as he forced the feeling away. "Mr. 288 told me my life was longer than the other mages," he recalled hoarsely, "…but…maybe not that much longer after all. It's…it's only been about a year and a half since Grandpa found me."

Silence fell across him; he was lost within his own thoughts, finally facing his own mortality. When he'd learned of his fate, he'd been sad, afraid – even a little angry. But…he had coped with it; decided he wanted to simply live the life he had. Even still…part of him flinched every time someone stopped, every time another of his brothers… Vivi sighed; Mikoto had tried everything – and even created new mages with longer lives. But, in the end, this was the way it was. He would stop – the last of the mages born before the Mist cleared. He would… Everything seemed colder, felt chilled and breezy like the bitter air outside. He ran his hands over his arms, hoping to generate some heat as fabric rubbed his skin. Finally, he shook his head.

"…I wish you would come back to us…" he offered weakly, eyes still closed, still fighting tears. They burned, and he could feel crystal flecks of water leaking from the corner. He sniffled quietly, only letting go of his worn jacket to rub his nose. Vivi forced his mind to wander, to drift away from his memories; fingers played with a loose thread in the hem of his gloves, tugging and pulling absently. Finally, breath escaped over his lips in a tiny wisp as he exhaled, defeated; unable to keep his mind astray. "You promised…" he whispered. Vivi swallowed, tongue clinging dryly to his mouth as he tried to dislodge the lump in his throat. After all they had been through together…

"…I always talked about you, Zidane," Vivi said, rubbing his hands anxiously. "How you were a very special person to us, because you taught us all how important life is. You taught me that life…doesn't last forever. That's why we have to help each other and…live life to the fullest." Vivi regretted it now, never going to see his friends; he missed them. Saying goodbye to them…watching the Hilda Garde III disappear over the horizon, bound for the Mist Continent…it had been one of the hardest things he had done. He'd felt sick, almost – unsure of exactly what else to feel. He'd said goodbye…he never meant it as farewell. …But…

"Even if you say goodbye, you'll always be in our hearts. So, I know we're not alone anymore." The mage sighed wearily, recalling the night they met – the uncanny circumstances that caused their adventure to begin. It was strange – after his grandpa died, Vivi had always feared he would wind up alone; if he hadn't stumbled onto the stage that night, he would have never met Zidane, or Dagger, or…or any of them. He would have probably lived in solitude at his grandfather's dwelling, or worse – been captured and destroyed by Alexandrian soldiers. Vivi shook his head, tearing his mind away. The mage sniffled, hands tugging at his coat as he tried to draw in any heat from the room.

"Why I was born… How I wanted to live…" he chuckled softly to himself, distantly recalling Zidane's words to him that night in Madain Sari: 'either you do, or you don't.' It was embarrassing to say the least, to…do what they had, but… Halfheartedly, he laughed to himself – or at himself, perhaps. "Thanks for giving me time to think," the mage added quietly, smiling. Eyes shifted, watching gloved fingers play with the string in his hem. Finally, they sank closed and he sighed as a finger brushed his cheek; the leather was worn and supple, almost smooth against his skin. "To keep doing what you set your heart on… It's a very hard thing to do," he admitted. He had told Zidane in the end that…it hadn't been difficult, that he didn't think it was a big deal. But…looking back…uncovering the truth about the mages, about Kuja, and in the end, saving Gaia – despite how hopeless it seemed…well, normal people might have given up. "We were all so courageous…"

He shivered, tugging the denim closer to his frame, and sighed. Weariness took over, and he slouched against the back of the crooked wooden chair. It whined with protest as his weight fell against it, but he ignored it. He felt nauseous and faint, but still painfully aware as his eyes studied the ceiling. Breaths came in slow, shallow wheezes, and it felt as though someone had punched him in the chest. Vivi inhaled shakily, and the room blurred slightly with lightheadedness. Finally, he exhaled, air quivering like the crisp morning breeze.

"What to do when I felt lonely… That was the only thing you couldn't teach me," he mumbled meekly. Silence answered him, chilled and unbroken. The mage swallowed, blinking back the heat that nipped at his eyes, and he shook his head. "But we need to figure out the answer for ourselves." His limbs felt weak, numb, and fingers quaked as he rubbed them. He had accepted this – that he would stop…that he would…that he would die… But…he had so much he wanted to say, to do, to live. "I'm so happy I met everyone…" he managed somberly, gratefully. "I wish we could have gone on more adventures." He wouldn't lie to himself – wouldn't tell himself it was possible, that this wasn't the end. He knew what this was, known that it would come. Mikoto had tried so hard, but…in the end…

"But I guess we all have to say goodbye someday," he said. Eyes drooped heavily, and he was becoming too fatigued to hold them open anymore. Faces, voices slurred distantly in his mind, floods of memories racing through his thoughts; though they were far away, he wished they could hear his words, his thoughts, dreams…hoped somehow they could. A shaky hand found his coat pocket, and fingers fumbled with the folded piece of parchment as he withdrew it. His breath hitched in his throat and Vivi vaguely heard the paper as it landed over the wood floor. "Everyone… Thank you. Farewell." Hands rested limply to his side, head lolling slightly as he lost the strength to focus. Everything blurred, colors dancing in his vision as moonlike eyes sank closed. A shallow breath filled his lungs, heavy with the scent of pine, cedar, and dried straw. Warmer, sweeter somehow as he held it, savored it.

"My memories will be…part of the sky…"