Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy VII, or Final Fantasy VIII. ...Now leave me to my depression.
Um, this is a very short sort of intro chapter, but I hope it doesn't rot your brain and that you can get some sort of enjoyment from it. Don't worry, Squall and others will be appearing next chapter.
/~|Song of the Fading Light|~\
\~|Prologue|~/
It was a harsh winter in Winhill. The wind cut like knives made of ice and the snow fell endlessly. People mostly stayed inside their houses, trying to stay warm. The sun was hiding behind grey clouds, useless for melting anything. The sun was even more useless now, having gone down.
The young black-haired boy struggled to keep up, panting, the quick breaths passing in and out of blue lips. He couldn't have been older than seven, and the ratty coat he had on did little against the cold. His feet had turned numb long ago, the snow getting into his worn boots. He didn't know if this was a bad or good thing. The boots had been too small and had pinched his toes, but he knew his toes being numb couldn't be a good thing either.
"Keep up!" A voice barked at him. Realizing he had slowed down, the boy hurried, which was quite hard when the snow came up over his knees. His legs were numb, too. He kept looking at the man that led him, focusing on the elder's pinkish hair, a difficult task considering how dark it was. Lumaria's personality was even colder than the wind and snow, an incredible feat in of itself. He was also what people may call a cruel person, one that only cared for his own personal gain. The boy didn't like Lumaria. He was mean and smelled like flowers. Not the nice kind, but the kind that scent gives you a headache.
The child didn't like the snow, either. It was cold and colorless, absolutely nothing like the familiar heat and bright colors of Gongaga. He felt his eyes sting as a wave of homesickness crashed down on him. But he held it in and refused to cry. Heroes don't cry, so he couldn't cry. Even if he wasn't a hero yet.
To his immense relief, he saw a building in the distance. The closer they got, the more it loomed overhead. Lumaria was already knocking on the door by the time he reached the doorstep. When no one came after a few minutes, the elder knocked again, impatience making itself known by the way his fist hit against the wood.
This time hurried footsteps could be heard beyond the door, followed by the door opening to reveal a rather beautiful woman. Her eyes widened slightly and she quickly ushered them in and closed the door behind them. "Come, come, sit by the fire," she said, eyes filling with sympathy as she saw the child's shivering form. She rushed into a hall and opened a closet, coming back with a blanket to wrap the boy in; who had ran to sit in front of the fireplace.
"Edea Kramer, I presume?" Lumaria questioned, a harshness coating his tone. The woman, who was in the middle of wrapping the boy up tight in the blanket looked up at Lumaria and nodded. "Yes, you are correct." She finished wrapping the boy up and gently ran her fingers through his spiky black hair before walking over to Lumaria so they could speak a little more privately. "I take it you want me to take him in?"
"Whereas should an orphan live than an orphanage?" There was no sympathy coming from him for the child, and Edea felt her heart tighten. Poor boy…
The man continued. "His name his Zack Fair, from Gongaga. His parents were killed and he has no known relatives, and so…"
"Gongaga?" She blinked. "Didn't anyone offer…?"
He shook his head. "It's a small, poor country town. No one had enough money for an extra mouth."
"I see…" she murmured, looking over her shoulder at Zack, who had scuttled as close to the fire as he could without catching aflame. If he was from Gongaga, then he must not be accustomed at all to the cold. She felt another stab of pity. "Well, I'll be glad to take him in."
Lumaria nodded. "Good." He turned and began walking away, and Edea looked at him with a surprised expression. "Aren't you going to say goodbye?"
The man halted, then said in a very stiff voice without looking back, "Goodbye, Zack."
The boy tensed for a brief moment, then whispered, "Bye."
As soon as he said that word he heard the door close. It was silent for a moment before her heard footsteps and glanced up to see the kind face of the woman that was to care for him. She smiled at him warmly, almost motherly, and held out her hand for him to take. He looked at it a moment before gazing again at her face. He must have seen something he liked, because he smiled almost shyly back and took her hand.
She led him to a closet, from which she took out several shirts and pajama pants, trying to see which would fit him. Zack looked no older than eight, but he was tall for his age. Finally, she found some that would fit him. He was so tired and sleepy by this point that he didn't care when she changed his clothes for him. She showed him to a room with many twin beds, each holding a sleeping child. Taking him to one that wasn't occupied, she tucked him in, and he fell asleep almost right away. Smiling sadly, she brushed a strand of black hair out of his face and quietly left the room.