DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Final Fantasy VIII or any of its characters. They are all property of Squaresoft. I'm using them for entertainment purpose ONLY, so DON'T SUE.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: 'The Eighth Fantasy' is a fanfiction divided in three books, this being the first and shortest one (sorta as an introduction to the other two). It takes place several years before the Ultimecia ordeal, (during Squall and the other's 'childhood good days') and it focuses on Quistis and Seifer's first meeting and farewell. I can't bring myself to tell much more (unless you ask me too! ^_^) so I won't spoil some surprises in the near future. Talking about the future! Beware of SPOILERS (obviously), ORIGINAL CHARACTERS (not really here, but in the next books…), BAD ENGLISH (in both bad language and bad grammar – hey! Nobody's perfect!!!), a NON-RINOA Universe (if you don't like a fic without her, you better leave. Rinoa won't be mentioned in the WHOLE fic!), a SLIGHT DIFFERENCE IN THE PLOT (thanks to my non-Rinoa Universe! ^_^) and a TOTALLY INSANE MIND (that's me!!! ^_______^)!!!! Beside that… uh… there must be a lot of things yet to beware, but… hey! I don't have all day! So please, Read, Enjoy and Review!
THE EIGHTH FANTASY BOOK 1: BLUE MAGIC PART ONE: WITHIN THE MISTS CHAPTER ONE: DIVING INTO THE POOLS OF YOUR EYES
Have you ever looked at something without really seeing it?
Ever cast your eyes on something and failed to see what lay underneath it's cool exterior? Ever wondered what was beneath the masked surface and never bordered to search more than what was presented to you?
Have you ever spent endless times trying to grasp something beyond your reach and fail to notice what surrounds you?
Ever been oblivious to the beauty which exists in very tiny detail… every powerful magical flame, every metal-melting fire, every swaying petal in the wind, every mesmerising spell of the sea, every falling teardrop onto the fertile soil of the earth, every whisper of the wood…?
Have you ever felt the guilt of such failure eating your soul so intensely that you just abandon yourself into the deepest grief? The inner message of each little thing slipping between your clumsy little fingers like the sands of time that flow mercilessly quick… not waiting for anyone.
Have you ever looked at something without really seeing it?
Ever passed by the hidden coves of happiness and missed the entrances out of fear? Ever refused to reach out for someone because rejection and hurt frightened you?
Have you ever closed your heart to your friends, thus scarring your fortune away?
Ever dismissed such simple bitter-sweet knowledge as to why someone smiles or cries? Ever blown away your chances of glimpsing into someone's heart and healing the wounds within?
Have you ever looked at something without really seeing it?
Ever incapable of really taking the time to see all that is around you? Ever really seen what surrounds you…?
Have you ever strolled over the land without acknowledging what was before you?
Ever placed your hands before your eyes because you never searched further? Ever run miles without leaving stage one?
The hate, the love, the pain, the joy, the hurt, the healing, the sadness, the happiness, the innocence, the guilt, the fear, the courage, the mistrust, the trust, the confidence, the uncertainty, the terror, the bravery, the dishonour, the honour, the imprisonment, the freedom, the enmity, the rivalry, the friendship…
…Have you ever misunderstood the beauty of it all?
Have you ever looked at something without really seeing it?
Ever noticed, when the sands flow no more for us, when the darkness embraces us and we cease to exist… have you ever noticed … the failure of realising a life of blinding guidance through existence…
…only you realise too late…
Have you ever grieved over the failure of not seeing?
The five years old boy could barely feel his short hair clinging to the sides of his face and over his left eye, his small – yet strong – body fighting bravely against the currents that were pulling him down and struggling to keep his head out of the water as each restless wave occasionally swept over him.
For many times now had he tempted himself to cast away those defiant strands away his stormy blue eyes, but for many more had his fear to loosen his grip on that wasteful wooden board shuddered it off.
Yes, he thought bitterly, a tiny rectangular wooden wreck, eaten away by termites through the years, had blissfully cracked under his childish hard punch and enabled him to survive that hateful catastrophe. A tiny parcel of a tree trunk, doomed to fire wood, served now as his only support in the exhausting task of remaining at the stormy grey surface of the ocean.
The little boy looked at the amethyst-grey sky in fear, as a lighting cracked just above his wet little head. He stared at it in silence, the waves gently smoothening under the light's freighting brilliance.
He feared the lightning.
Not the deathly electricity – that could bring his frail body to a merciless last breath countless times with just one blow – not the unpredictableness of it's manifestations – no, he seldom enjoyed that –, neither did he feared it's raging fury, – since it also cursed through his veins – …No……… What this little boy feared was its predicament…
And now the boy wondered how could have he underestimated the power of those blue depths… How hadn't he expected this from the Sea…? The same liquid vastness along which he had raced through the last three years of his life, the same rippled mirror of Heaven, the same pool where he searched for food from dawn to evening, the same vessel that brought bread, garments and commerce to the little town of Ayaa Mar…?
His thoughts were cut by the realisation that years spent with seafolk were indeed useful to predict weather. Immediately, the boy wished he hadn't know that much… that he had been wrong...
*SCKNIT* He heard the skies hiss as he took the chance to firm his grip around the wooden wreck and prepare himself for the worse.
Keeping a low profile and wishing he wasn't so big for his age, the boy shuddered inconsolably and squeezed himself against the board, his numb flesh now immune to the freezing temperatures.
Finally, and after seconds that lasted for an eternity, the skies cracked anew in a terrible holler of gigantic deafening thunders, the wind rising out of nowhere in a twirling typhoon, causing the waters to agitate into new high wavy formations.
Horror struck, the young boy's beautiful eyes widened in shock as an imposing mass of water threatened to fall over him. The only thought that crossed his mind before the raging wave crashed against his limp body was "Those guys who died in the shipwreck were Hyne damned lucky!".
"NO!!!!! STOP! Please…. No!!! Not him!!! STOP!!!"
Feeling the heavily push of the cursing water against his skin like steel embedded on a Firaga spell, the boy refused to give in to it's strength, gripping desperately on the board and holding his breath fiercely. He wouldn't die. He couldn't die. Not after all the loneliness, not after all the pain.
No.
There must more in life for him.
His life couldn't be the miserable five years he counted.
There must be more. Much more.
And he was going to strive for it. Strive for it with all his might.
He wouldn't give up.
"Ondinas! No!!! Spare him!!! ONDINAS!!!!"
Driven to the surface by the soft volume of the wood and by the frantic kicking of his legs on the salty liquid, the small boy took a mouthful breath of sea-sickening air before being dragged again by the wave's massive blow. But, this time, the currents refuse to let him reach the surface again.
"Ondinas, spare him!! STOP!!! Sisters… please…"
The boy kicked the currents with all the energy he still possessed, fighting his destiny with an iron will as he slipped deeper into the ocean.
"…I beg of you… spare him… let him come to me…"
Bubbles of precious air fluttered out of his purple lips as he felt himself choking. Breathless.
His grip on the board weakened, thus sending it floating to the surface and leaving him alone and helpless…
"…he's mine…"
Slowly, all the strength left him, his legs ceasing their useless blows as he dived further down into the blue depths.
"…please…"
Some say that when someone reaches it's dying moment, that he or she sees their lives rushing before their eyes before fleeing away forever… leaving only darkness and emptiness behind…
"…let him…"
But, as he sunk into the Abyss of Forgetfulness, the boy saw nothing of that.
"…come …"
His mind merely gripped upon the vision of the most beautiful sapphire blue eyes he had ever seen.
"…to me…"
Author's Note: Like it? Hate it? What to attempt a homicide? Please let me know! Flames and reviews are ALL WELCOME!!! ^_________________________^
