Disclaimer: All the characters appearing in this fic are the sole property
of Squaresoft and I swear I'm not making money out of them. If I was, I'd
have an iMac that danced to the funky funky beat. But I don't. This is my
first FF8 fic, so please be gentle.
Rivers of Ice by Thea
"Get down!"
A huge explosion shook the grounds outside Balamb Garden and in desperation SeeD members threw themselves to the ground. A solitary figure, standing defiantly amongst the wreckage of several overturned vehicles, urgently waved to several trainees to take cover, his gunblade blinking in the December sun.
Squall Leonheart narrowed his eyes as he turned to face his attacker, his hands clenched tightly around the hilt of his blade. He had never before seen a creature like the one standing in front of him. Its long, muscular neck supported a sharp, pointed skull. Its legs were as thick as tree trunks and its already impressive height was compounded by the fact that it suddenly reared on its hind legs, at the same time releasing an inhuman cry filled with malevolence.
Without hesitation Squall leapt forward, narrowly avoiding blackened talons, each as long as an outstretched hand, and with as much force as he could quickly slashed the creature, causing it to whip its tail angrily, clipping Squall on the shoulder.
It felt as though burning rivulets of fire were dancing along his arm, the white-hot pain causing him to grit his teeth in agony. With a defeated yell, he realised that his fighting arm was completely useless. As he slowly began to sink into unconsciousness, he heard a stern voice behind him dismiss the hiding trainees. Quistis Trepe.
Ever since she had been restored to her post at Balamb as an Instructor, Quistis had felt an intense desire to prove to the world, and to herself, that Headmaster Cid had been wrong in his opinion of her. Which was why, she supposed later, upon hearing the first of several thunderous explosions, she had grabbed her chain whip and sprinted towards the noise. Zell Dincht had been talking with her at the time, and had needed very little encouragement to follow her.
In a second they spotted Squall clutching his injured arm whilst hazily trying to back away from the monster, which was threateningly close, baring hideously yellow needle-sharp fangs. While Quistis did her best to fend off the demon, Zell dropped to his knees next to him and offered his strong shoulder as a crutch to his injured friend and forced him to drink a potion through lips that had turned deathly white.
In an instant he felt a refreshing cool numbness flooding his shoulder. Soon his cheeks were flushed with anger, where before there was only the pale pallor of shock. He reached out for his gunblade, which had clattered to the floor. His frosty grey eyes, set with grim determination, narrowed as he gathered his strength and ran at the monster.
*
"You see why we called you back now, Squall?" Cid asked gravely, seated at his desk. Squall made no attempt to answer; he simply looked back, his gaze steely, his face impassive. Cid sighed inwardly. Since last summer Squall seemed to have taken several steps back, withdrawing into himself, living alone, hating the world which he mistrusted so fiercely. He tried again. "These monster attacks, they're almost common now. I won't allow trainees outside the grounds of the garden without a SeeD member with them because whenever I do, something like this happens." He nodded to Squall's ripped jacket.
"Over the last few weeks we've slowly lost contact with Galbadia garden." Edea stood up and walked to Cid's side, placing her hand on his shoulder. "The whole garden just seems to have closed down, nobody goes in and nobody comes out. Well," she paused hesitantly, "that's what Irvine told us just before, just before…" Edea swayed slightly, struggling to keep her composure and, failing, buried her face in her hands.
Quistis, standing behind him, finished for her. "Irvine is in the infirmary, Squall. He collapsed shortly after he reached us, and he's been there ever since, completely unconscious. Dr. Kadowaki is at a loss, she doesn't know what to do for him."
Squall's face remained emotionless. "What does any of this have to do with me?" he asked, with the air of a disaffected observer.
Zell had, up until now, been leaning thoughtfully against the wall, uncharacteristically quiet. However, when he heard these words, when he heard the tone of Squall's voice, so drawling and unfeeling, he felt an intense anger building inside him. He jumped up and pushed Squall hard, causing him to grab at the desk in order to remain on his feet. His eyes, which had a second before been full of shock at his actions now only showed anger, and with a yell he swung his fist at Zell, his knuckles connecting with his cheekbone. Only the quick intervention of Quistis, shoving them apart, stopped the fight escalating. She stood between the two of them, staring hard at Squall, a look of disbelief on her face.
Zell, breathing heavily and dabbing at the small cut across his cheek, demanded, "What does it have to do with you? I thought we were friends, man. I thought you cared about us all. Irvine was one of us, he was our brother."
Squall looked away, wondering how on earth all this had happened. He had only reached Balamb a few hours ago after receiving Cid's cryptic appeal for help, and now he was back in the exact situation he had spent so long trying to run away from, fighting and caring and belonging all over again. To be near these people he had almost convinced himself he didn't need was like walking over hot coals. They reminded him of her, Rinoa, and as soon as he saw her smiling face in front of his eyes, the waves of hurt that so mercilessly threatened to engulf him once again began to wash against his mind.
Quistis' harsh voice dragged him away from these thoughts. "If you want to help us, Squall, then we'd all be grateful. We need all the help we can get. And if you decide to grace him with your presence, Irvine is down in the infirmary. But if you're going to stay here, blaming us for what Rinoa did to you…" She trailed off at the look on his face. "You may as well leave." She finished quietly.
*
The sharp clatter of metal connecting with stone resounded, quickly followed by a muttered "Fuck". The air quivered violently and the unmistakeable sound of running feet could be heard. Quistis rounded a corner of the training centre in time to see Squall sailing through the air, landing right next to his gunblade. With one quick, powerful slash the creature in front of him disappeared and Squall dispassionately brushed at several unruly strands of his raven hair. Although he had always been a talented fighter, Quistis soon noticed the difference in his style. He had retired to his childhood home of the orphanage, where he spent the vast majority of his time. He always discouraged visitors but she knew that he trained night and day, punishing himself mentally and physically, and hoping that perhaps he would be given the chance to change the past. And she could tell. She saw the threatening stance and the eagerness for anybody to challenge him and the eyes full of concentration and hurt and hate. One part of her, the part that had seen him grow up into a hero wept inwardly at such a deformation of his character. But the part that saw the world slowly changing, becoming hellish and cold was glad, glad that possibly, somehow, he could make everything right, the way he had before.
"Quistis." The word itself could tear her apart. There was no affection in it, no feeling. It was dead, and Squall's eyes looking dully at her betrayed no emotion. Now he seemed only to be capable of hate, which had consumed him utterly, and there was space for nothing and nobody else.
"Squall," she half-whispered, afraid that he voice would fail her, "We need to go now, if we're going to get to Esthar before the morning."
Squall turned away in disgust.
"There's nothing we need in Esthar. I can cope on my own."
"You're wrong, Squall. We need help. We need Seifer."
That's it, chapter 1. Tell me if you think it's worth carrying on, I'd love any reviews. In fact, if you reviewed this I'd probably cry and sing 'I Won't Say I'm In Love' over and over again to myself. Uh…please review?
Rivers of Ice by Thea
"Get down!"
A huge explosion shook the grounds outside Balamb Garden and in desperation SeeD members threw themselves to the ground. A solitary figure, standing defiantly amongst the wreckage of several overturned vehicles, urgently waved to several trainees to take cover, his gunblade blinking in the December sun.
Squall Leonheart narrowed his eyes as he turned to face his attacker, his hands clenched tightly around the hilt of his blade. He had never before seen a creature like the one standing in front of him. Its long, muscular neck supported a sharp, pointed skull. Its legs were as thick as tree trunks and its already impressive height was compounded by the fact that it suddenly reared on its hind legs, at the same time releasing an inhuman cry filled with malevolence.
Without hesitation Squall leapt forward, narrowly avoiding blackened talons, each as long as an outstretched hand, and with as much force as he could quickly slashed the creature, causing it to whip its tail angrily, clipping Squall on the shoulder.
It felt as though burning rivulets of fire were dancing along his arm, the white-hot pain causing him to grit his teeth in agony. With a defeated yell, he realised that his fighting arm was completely useless. As he slowly began to sink into unconsciousness, he heard a stern voice behind him dismiss the hiding trainees. Quistis Trepe.
Ever since she had been restored to her post at Balamb as an Instructor, Quistis had felt an intense desire to prove to the world, and to herself, that Headmaster Cid had been wrong in his opinion of her. Which was why, she supposed later, upon hearing the first of several thunderous explosions, she had grabbed her chain whip and sprinted towards the noise. Zell Dincht had been talking with her at the time, and had needed very little encouragement to follow her.
In a second they spotted Squall clutching his injured arm whilst hazily trying to back away from the monster, which was threateningly close, baring hideously yellow needle-sharp fangs. While Quistis did her best to fend off the demon, Zell dropped to his knees next to him and offered his strong shoulder as a crutch to his injured friend and forced him to drink a potion through lips that had turned deathly white.
In an instant he felt a refreshing cool numbness flooding his shoulder. Soon his cheeks were flushed with anger, where before there was only the pale pallor of shock. He reached out for his gunblade, which had clattered to the floor. His frosty grey eyes, set with grim determination, narrowed as he gathered his strength and ran at the monster.
*
"You see why we called you back now, Squall?" Cid asked gravely, seated at his desk. Squall made no attempt to answer; he simply looked back, his gaze steely, his face impassive. Cid sighed inwardly. Since last summer Squall seemed to have taken several steps back, withdrawing into himself, living alone, hating the world which he mistrusted so fiercely. He tried again. "These monster attacks, they're almost common now. I won't allow trainees outside the grounds of the garden without a SeeD member with them because whenever I do, something like this happens." He nodded to Squall's ripped jacket.
"Over the last few weeks we've slowly lost contact with Galbadia garden." Edea stood up and walked to Cid's side, placing her hand on his shoulder. "The whole garden just seems to have closed down, nobody goes in and nobody comes out. Well," she paused hesitantly, "that's what Irvine told us just before, just before…" Edea swayed slightly, struggling to keep her composure and, failing, buried her face in her hands.
Quistis, standing behind him, finished for her. "Irvine is in the infirmary, Squall. He collapsed shortly after he reached us, and he's been there ever since, completely unconscious. Dr. Kadowaki is at a loss, she doesn't know what to do for him."
Squall's face remained emotionless. "What does any of this have to do with me?" he asked, with the air of a disaffected observer.
Zell had, up until now, been leaning thoughtfully against the wall, uncharacteristically quiet. However, when he heard these words, when he heard the tone of Squall's voice, so drawling and unfeeling, he felt an intense anger building inside him. He jumped up and pushed Squall hard, causing him to grab at the desk in order to remain on his feet. His eyes, which had a second before been full of shock at his actions now only showed anger, and with a yell he swung his fist at Zell, his knuckles connecting with his cheekbone. Only the quick intervention of Quistis, shoving them apart, stopped the fight escalating. She stood between the two of them, staring hard at Squall, a look of disbelief on her face.
Zell, breathing heavily and dabbing at the small cut across his cheek, demanded, "What does it have to do with you? I thought we were friends, man. I thought you cared about us all. Irvine was one of us, he was our brother."
Squall looked away, wondering how on earth all this had happened. He had only reached Balamb a few hours ago after receiving Cid's cryptic appeal for help, and now he was back in the exact situation he had spent so long trying to run away from, fighting and caring and belonging all over again. To be near these people he had almost convinced himself he didn't need was like walking over hot coals. They reminded him of her, Rinoa, and as soon as he saw her smiling face in front of his eyes, the waves of hurt that so mercilessly threatened to engulf him once again began to wash against his mind.
Quistis' harsh voice dragged him away from these thoughts. "If you want to help us, Squall, then we'd all be grateful. We need all the help we can get. And if you decide to grace him with your presence, Irvine is down in the infirmary. But if you're going to stay here, blaming us for what Rinoa did to you…" She trailed off at the look on his face. "You may as well leave." She finished quietly.
*
The sharp clatter of metal connecting with stone resounded, quickly followed by a muttered "Fuck". The air quivered violently and the unmistakeable sound of running feet could be heard. Quistis rounded a corner of the training centre in time to see Squall sailing through the air, landing right next to his gunblade. With one quick, powerful slash the creature in front of him disappeared and Squall dispassionately brushed at several unruly strands of his raven hair. Although he had always been a talented fighter, Quistis soon noticed the difference in his style. He had retired to his childhood home of the orphanage, where he spent the vast majority of his time. He always discouraged visitors but she knew that he trained night and day, punishing himself mentally and physically, and hoping that perhaps he would be given the chance to change the past. And she could tell. She saw the threatening stance and the eagerness for anybody to challenge him and the eyes full of concentration and hurt and hate. One part of her, the part that had seen him grow up into a hero wept inwardly at such a deformation of his character. But the part that saw the world slowly changing, becoming hellish and cold was glad, glad that possibly, somehow, he could make everything right, the way he had before.
"Quistis." The word itself could tear her apart. There was no affection in it, no feeling. It was dead, and Squall's eyes looking dully at her betrayed no emotion. Now he seemed only to be capable of hate, which had consumed him utterly, and there was space for nothing and nobody else.
"Squall," she half-whispered, afraid that he voice would fail her, "We need to go now, if we're going to get to Esthar before the morning."
Squall turned away in disgust.
"There's nothing we need in Esthar. I can cope on my own."
"You're wrong, Squall. We need help. We need Seifer."
That's it, chapter 1. Tell me if you think it's worth carrying on, I'd love any reviews. In fact, if you reviewed this I'd probably cry and sing 'I Won't Say I'm In Love' over and over again to myself. Uh…please review?