~I dedicate this work to my guardian archangel, Chris. Without his inspiration and guiding light I would have lacked the courage to ever continue writing. I love you.~
Spiral Dreams
"It has been said that everything in the universe is fundamentally composed of energy. What we think of as matter is really nothing more than a certain type of energy. And since energy cannot be created or destroyed but merely transferred, some speculate that living beings never truly die. Their life energy is simply returned to the universe in its simplest form."
--Joe Rybickii & Dido Perez, P.S.X. Magazine
Chapter 1
"I hate mornings!" Squall Leonheart muttered to himself. Cold morning air nipped at his ears, and he dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket.
Overhead the bubble-like barrier that protected Balamb City from the Phantoms sparkled brighter then the stars. Hundreds of towers stood around the city limits, transmitting bio-etheric energy. As the energy merged together it formed a protective shield around the city. It glowed bight orange, as if the city was in eternal twilight, and it lit Squall's path.
Typically he found comfort in the bright blaze of the barricade, but this morning the clouds behind the barrier were dark and moving swiftly. Great, on top of everything else, it's gonna rain, he sighed.
These barriers can keep Phantoms away, you think they'd be able to filter out the rain as well. Like it matters. I should be in bed instead of out here freezing my ass off, Squall swore as he trudged up the mountain pass that led to Duel Hill.
Fuckin' Seifer.
As he rounded the path, Squall shifted his gaze towards a large, circular clearing. He moved forward to the center of the plateau, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed gunblade. The surrounding area was deathly quiet, but he sensed he was not alone.
"Seifer." He spoke the name to himself as he turned and looked down the cliff towards the forest.
"Seifer, I know you're here." Squall called out.
As he spoke, a low rumble of thunder drowned out his last few words. Spinning around on his heels he caught sight of his enemy's shadow.
Then Seifer appeared, standing on top of a rock pile over Squall's head.
With a self-satisfied grin, Seifer pulled his left sleeve up and bought his watch to eye level, "Garden doesn't open till 6 am. It's now 5:58 am." He let his arm drop back to his side; "You're violating curfew."
"You gonna write me up or something?" Squall folded his arms across his chest. A crash of lightning brightened the sky, and rain began to fall upon the gladiators.
"Maybe" Seifer stepped closer to the edge of the rock.
"You know, this was your stupid idea. If you don't wanna fight, I'm going back to bed." Squall turned on his heels and started back down the way he came.
"Hey, don't leave me hangin' now unless you're scared to fight me." Seifer taunted.
Squall turned around slowly, glaring at Seifer, "Scared of you? No way. I can take on anyone. Even someone who fights as dirty as you."
"Then what are you waiting for!? Come show me what you got!"
Seifer let out a war cry and launched himself off the rock, swinging his gunblade downward towards Squall's skull. In the same instant, Squall's gunblade flashed into view, parrying Seifer's attack just inches above his head. Sparks flew between them, and another crash of lightning bathed Seifer's sneering face in a twisted orange glare.
They stood staring at one another for an endless moment through their crossed weapons. Seifer jumped back, and spun around, his Hyperion upraised. Squall flipped his gunblade over the back of his hand, and prepared for the next wave.
Once again, Seifer lunged forward, slashing in a deadly downward arc. Executing a move of incredible speed, Squall blocked the stab, sending more sparks flying into the air.
Squall rushed at Seifer, bringing his weapon over and up. With a snigger, Seifer easily deflected the sweeping blow, at once parrying and turning in a complete circle. His trench coat flew from behind him like a cloud.
Gunblade high above his head, Seifer readied his attack from first position; Squall held his weapon in a sidelong stance in cool response. Swiftly Seifer brought his blade straight down, but his rival blocked the attack. Squall feinted and cut low. Seifer countered and let the impact of his gunblade direct itself toward Squall's throat. Squall met the riposte and stepped back.
It was then that Squall realized Seifer might actually win. He was amazed at how much strength he had acquired since their previous duels. The last few times he had beaten Seifer senseless. However, it now seemed apparent that now the advantage was all Seifer's. And he was pressing it.
Grinning, Seifer raised his hand; palm upturned, and cast a bright ball of fire directly at his opponent. Reacting swiftly, Squall put up his hand and cast Reflect; the fire hit the pink shield surrounding him, and was absorbed into it.
Seifer laughed and launched himself at Squall. Blow upon blow, Seifer forced Squall to retreat; each stroke pummeled Squall like shards of hate.
Before Squall could launch his next assault, Seifer attacked again — much, much more violently. He advanced in a flurry of quick attacks, his heart pounded in his ears and burned in his chest. Squall fell back with every lash, spinning once to bring his gunblade up viciously — but effortlessly, Seifer deflected the blow with a turn of his gunblade.
Again, Seifer attacked and they locked and the dog crawled across the room and jumped onto the foot of the bed. Reaching forward Rinoa petted the soft fur on his side. "It's weapons. As Squall pushed Seifer back to break the cinch, he lost his foothold and tumbled backward onto solid rock.
Shaking his head, Squall began to pull himself up. Seifer took advantaged of his opponent's momentary weakness. He lunged himself at Squall, taking aim right between his eyes.
Squall was caught unaware, and as Seifer's blade sliced his face it felt like a dream. Hot blood ran down Squall's face and a red smear clouded his sight. Gore dripped from his cheek, falling to the wet rocks below.
Chuckling Seifer stood above him and watched Squall absorb the humiliation of defeat, "Pathetic."
Ignoring shame, weakness, and the throbbing pain in his head, Squall focused solely on his will — his single-minded desire for revenge.
"Seifer!" Squall screamed.
Gripping the hilt of his gunblade, he rushed at Seifer with a frenzy he had never known. Swinging his gunblade upward, he aimed directly between Seifer's eyes.
Struggling to react, Seifer tried to block Squall's attack. As the blade struck his face Seifer's knees buckled under him and he convulsed with pain.
Authors Notes:
Concerning "Spiral Dreams"...
I don't mind saying I really didn't like "The Spirit's Within" movie. I mean, I didn't hate it, but I certainly didn't love it.
Like a lot of Final Fantasy fans I thought it was missing all the vital elements that made the games so lovable. Of course I know they had to make it so not only hard core fans would like it, but a general audience as well. Still, I think they compromised a bit too much. I think there were a lot of things they could have included without making the general public bored. Besides, how can you rightly call it Final Fantasy with no Moogles, Chocobo's, summons, or magic? True, it had a few of the same plot elements that can be seen in FF7, but overall I found it lacking.
When I started this fic most people actually thought I should write it as a mix between SW (Spirits Within) Final Fantasy 7 (perhaps the greatest FF of all), but honestly, I thought that was a little too easy. The plots are very similar by the end. Lifestream, Gia, and the whole returning to the earth with all our experiences seemed just too alike. The integration would flow so well it would have seemed a bit... predictable. I picked FF8 because I think it leaves me with a bit more creative license.
Thus said, this is my attempt to make The Spirits Within more FF-ish. The first few chapters are more FF8 then SW, but by Chapter 4 there should be a bit more balance. I truly hope you enjoy it.
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream"
~Puck, A Midsummer Nights Dream
William Shakespeare