Dreamscapes
By: Shadow Wing Story Information Game - Final Fantasy VIII Genre - AU, Violence (Extreme at some points.)and Shounen-ai. Characters Used - Seifer Almasy ( Lt. Amato Treveil ) Squall Leonhart ( Angelo Chandrakant ) Minor created characters, this is an AU fic you know. Name Meanings - These hold importance in the story. Amato Treveil is "Beloved devil" and Angelo Chandrakant is "Angel beloved of the moon." Trust me, it's good to know. Plot - Based in a world called "Tylinde" ( Pronounced "Tai-lyn-day" ) where Seifer and Squall's spirits have been reborn after their deaths in the canon world. Each one born into separate nations during a time of chaos. The two have joined their militaries and ready for war. Will a love untold revive, with a new chance of succession... ?Chapter One
The fine silken bedsheets clung to Angelo's legs as he turned and wraithed about in his nightmaric state, to him, the world was dark, freezing although his sweat was clinging hopelessly to his brow, trailing over his face and neck. Gentle brown hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks as the dream sent his body into fits of pain and attack. Angelo's dream was that nearly of a prophecy. His unnamed rival was before him, adornded with the wings of a true demon, giant black bat-like wings that folded close against the blonde man's back neatly, like folded sheets of satin. The man's cold, uncaring saphire eyes sent an aura of power about his form. He stepped toward Angelo and smirked, his voice booming and echoing in a twisted but assured way around the nothingness in which the two found each other.
"Little lion's lost his way.. All alone in this cold world.. "The last words cut like a knife as a snicker sent a shockwave through Angelo's dream state.
He tried his best to speak, but his lips felt as if they were frozen together, he could feel his true heart racing as the man made his way around him, mimicing his inner pain with verbal torment. The rival spread his wings out, to about an eight foot span and traced his finger over Angelo's cheek. They felt like talons against his ice cold skin and the hint of a hiss escaped his chilled lips. His gloved hands griped his broadsword tightly, feeling like five icecubes about a glacier, his breath fogged into a white mist as it hit the air before him. Clouds of black and navy blue covered the land, sky and horizon and his rival stood, showing no hint of cold as hs victim stood shivering in his own dreamscape.The air began to whip about his body, sending his loose black tunic into violent fits around his form, lashing about him in quick sudden movements. His eyes did their best to remain open against the torrent of wind against him, and the demon stood, unmoved by the elements. His smirk pierced the air like a hot knife through butter and, abruptly the dream came crashing to an end.
Angelo bolted up. Silken sheets clung to his body as the cold sweat smoothed over his ice cold skin. He panted softly, leaning forward and hunching over, blinking a few times before he could fully gather his thoughts together. The icy chill of late night winds filled his large bedroom from the window that had somehow become open during the night. Angelo rubbed his frozen hands together as thousands of thoughts sparaticly entered into his somewhat paranoid mind. He could not remember the last time a dream had sent him into fits of pain through his true body, nor could he conjour up an idea as to whom his demonic tormentor had been. He moved to the edge of his bed and shook the soaked brown hair from his forehead nd used his weak hands to shove himself up from the mattress and leaned aganist the oaken windowsill, nonchalantly staring at the triple moons that hung in the violet night sky. . .
Hours must have passed as Angelo stared up towards the three moons of Tylinde, the red moon Riyx, the white moon, Lonur and the smallest of the moons, the blue moon Cturin. The golden stars danced upon the surface of the small pond outside of the Chandrakant Manor and it shown with an elegant azure hue aganist the contrast of the emerald green grass that grew just outside of the banks. Angelo's form stood stoticly on his bedroom's wooden floor, his room was located on the third story of hs family's Manor and rivaled in size to that of the Master's Room. He sighed and quietly searched the sky for the constellations he had learned in his childhood, the first he saw, ironically, was that of the Tear. A small constellation made of five small stars, creating a teardrop like form in the northern reaches of the sky.
~ How strange... ~
Angelo thought to himself, the deluge of emotions slowly began to subside while his thoughts wandered freely over the area.~ Who was he... ?~
The face of his unknown tormentor filtered back into his mind's eye and he pondered quietly, the thoughts trying their best to break through to haunt him again.
~ ... and why did he call me... a 'little lion'? ~
He could see the silver sun peeking over the horizon and he was startled at how long he had been standing at the window, but instead of going back to bed he chose to ready himself for the day and perhaps get an early breakfast before he was sent to arms training with the Manor's Armsmaster, Chulic. He half groaned as the servant's bells rang to awaken them for the day. Angelo half pitied them but never made it known because he too was one to issue overly abudant orders to the house hold maids and butlers. . .
******
Angelo's light weight house shoes scuffed over the highly polished floors of the manner as he made his way to the smaller Dining Hall the manor residents used for unimportant meals, breakfast being one of them. He passed by the kitchen and smirked to himself as he listened to an argument between the head chef, Rindioe Marchevious, and one of his apprentice-cooks, whose name didn't really make a difference.
"What were you THINKING?" The older chef's voice boomed through the kitchen. "I was THINKING that a few herbs would make it stand out more!" The voice was younger and equally angry. "I don't care what you think!--" The voice gradually faded out as Angelo stepped into the dining hall, a soft chuckle escaped his pale-red lips.
The dining hall was a smaller version of the Major Hall, where dinners were held every night, this room was just off of the kitchen and about half the size as its parent room. The tables were arranged in a type of "H" shape, the Master, Mistress and First Born sat at the center table, whilst aunts, uncles and other children randomly arranged themselves at the two verticle tables.
Angelo approached the Family Table from behind and took a seat beside his father. Gravil Chandrakant was not the most powerful man Angelo had seen, his face was sharply carved with his deep set blue eyes looking as light and airy as when he had been younger. Brown-red hair was cropped into a close cut to his father;s skull and made him look all the smaller, to Angelo at least, the man had long since past his prime of life and was slowly giving into age, one year at a time.His form was built slender but muscular and had with stood many battles over his lifetime. His mother was an entirely different story...
Prastrana Chandrakant looked far younger thn her tender age of sixty-two. He hair still remained a platinum-blonde shade and her emerald green eyes shown slightly less than those of her husband's. Her form was long and graceful and unnaturally tall for a woman, standing nearly 5'11" was almost unheard of in Angelo's day and age... She sat beside Master Chandrakant and nipped at her breakfast like a small bird does at its own food. Angelo felt an uneasiness as he sat down and arched a fine brow towards his father skeptically.
"Father, what's wrong?" He asked his voice hardly above a whisper but he knew his father had heard him. His father gave a sideways glance to his son and half glared. The tension in the air smelt of bitter words and Angelo silenced himself. His mother leaned forwards, over the table , She nodded to her son in approval of his silence as a servant dropped the plate of eggs and meat before him. Angelo could clearly tell why he heard the argument in the kitchen, the plate smelled more like a grassland than it did of anything he'd ever thought of eating before...
He listlessly listened to the conversations at the table to his right, the closest to him. His cousin, Ridevyl was once again complaining about the awful hunting grounds around Chandrakant Manor. "I finally found a Trocibee nest yesterday!" He yowled like a wounded cat. "It took me well over two candle-lights to catch the bloody thing!" Angelo dropped his ear from the conversation Ridevyl was having with his siblings with a loud groan. The only reason Ridevyl couldn't find his precious Trocibee nests was because, one, they're out of season and have retreated to their Winter Nestings in the upper region of the Yrral Mountains and two, Ridevyl never looked in the right places. Angelo never pointed this out because hunting trips with his cousins always turned out to be rather humorous, Ridevyl running after his precious feathered-lunches, eventually tripping over the root of a copper-elm and falling face first into an assortment of unfavourable places. Angelo's favourite had been when Ridevyl's face made a rather fast introduction into his own horse's... droppings. Angelo had never let him live the four year old story down.
After breakfast Angelo retreated to his room to prepare for his daily training with the Chandrakant Armsmaster whom his father had hired less than two years ago. He dressed in the somewhat burly practice armor the Armsmaster had purchased years ago which weighed him down heavily. He picked up the thin, rapier style wooden practise sword and made his way, in a slight waddle, towards the Training Field which sat just outside the Manor's walls, set up right next to the Equine Fields, where Angelo would retreat after practise for a ride or two before the day let out...
Armsmaster Chulic was older than Angelo's father but not by much. He was larger and heavier than his father had ever been. Before moving into the Manor Chulic had been a General in the Frendilve Army,the only reason master Chandrakant had met with the battle-seasoned General was because of a rather extravagant carnival his family had atteneded where Chulic had been playing Guardsman to the gaming carts.
Angelo and Chulic had a mutually respectful relationship. angelo to Chulic because of his keen eyes for oncoming attack and Chulic to Angelo because he was the First Born of the Chandrakant Family and his offensive fighting style he had grown accustomed to. Angelo entered just as Chulic finished polishing his low-quality leather training boots. The elder man spoke without turning to face his trainee.
"Time to train ye young'ins, eh?" The man's lips curled into a slight smile as Angelo sat the raiper practice sword aside to take up a slightly more broad version of the toy.
"I wouldn't say 'young'ins' but, yea." He smirked and peered over the man's shoulders from behind. "Scrub them any harder and the rag'll go straight through!" He snickered and stepped backwards and Chulic sat the boot aside, moving towards the wall which housed the armor and equipped his own chest guard, helm and leg guards as Angelo merely adjusted his own.
"Don' see why you don' store ye stuffs right 'ere." He heard Chulic mumble from beneath the leather helm.
Angelo stepped towards the center of the Training-Circle and waited for Chulic to ready himself. "I don't store it here because I'm afraid of you cleaning it!" He chuckled as his trainer entered the ring. "Aye, boy! I'm not going easy on ye fer that 'un!" Chulic said, a tinge of sarcasm to his voice. "Ready?" He asked boredly, tapping the tip of the wooden broadsword to the ground. Angelo peered out from his helm and prepared for the first attack. "Ready!"
The swords, although wooden, could cause a lot of bruising if they hit unpadded areas. Angelo's right sholder learned that lesson as heavy copper-elm wood crashed diagonally into his unarmored shoulder. He recoiled with an upwards dicing motion to Chulic's underarm as he regrouped for the next attack. The older man snickered and back stepped and spun his sword. Angelo had seen this desperation move before and could try his best to counter.Angelo strode to the right side, as Chulic's left arm swung towards him. He felt the wind speed up as he tried his best to dodge backwards but felt the thud of wood against cheap leather padding and feel with a thud onto his rear. He groaned and pulled off his helm, He felt as if a dozen Trocibees were dancing about his head. Chulic only chuckled and offered a hand to the dizzy young man, pulling him to his feet.
"Ye young'ins... all about gettin' yer tails outta th' way!" Chulic preached as Angelo regained his land legs. "Ye old'ins,"Angelo countered "Always swingin' yer weight aroun' like sum bullies!" Angelo tried his best to imitate his trainer's accent and executed it nearly perfectly with a nonchalant smirk dancing over his thin lips. The older man grinned and laughed softly. Shaking his head as he laid the training sword back aganist the wall. Angelo shook his head as the familiar feeling of sweat weighted hair returned, random strands of dark brown clung to his forehead and gave him the appearance of a recently drowned cat. He strolled casually towards the wall and hung his helm upon the empty hook, giving a sideways glance to Chulic.
"I'll leave my things here for this one night," he proclaimed as he hung the chest guard along the wall. "If you promise on you honor not to clean them!" He turned to him fully as he sat on a solid oak bench to removed the leg guards and boots, setting them aside in a disturbingly orderly manner. Chulic paced and stroked his lightly beared chin, considering the offer in a joking manner.
"Well..., Only because yer th' Lord's First Born, I'll accept ye offer." Chulic nodded with approval as Angelo smirked and finished tieing his boots. He stood and reverted to a more mannerly form of speech.
"Lovely lesson today, Chulic.. but what exactly have I learned?" He arched a brow quizatically. "Absolutely nothin' m'lord," Chulic replied, slyly. "Nothin' ye didn' know already!"
Angelo nodded in approval and left the moderately sized training room and made the short journey from the practice fields to the home of the Chandrakant's Equine Fields to take in a short ride before returning home, possibly to investigate the bitter words which had corrupted the air at breakfast.
By: Shadow Wing Story Information Game - Final Fantasy VIII Genre - AU, Violence (Extreme at some points.)and Shounen-ai. Characters Used - Seifer Almasy ( Lt. Amato Treveil ) Squall Leonhart ( Angelo Chandrakant ) Minor created characters, this is an AU fic you know. Name Meanings - These hold importance in the story. Amato Treveil is "Beloved devil" and Angelo Chandrakant is "Angel beloved of the moon." Trust me, it's good to know. Plot - Based in a world called "Tylinde" ( Pronounced "Tai-lyn-day" ) where Seifer and Squall's spirits have been reborn after their deaths in the canon world. Each one born into separate nations during a time of chaos. The two have joined their militaries and ready for war. Will a love untold revive, with a new chance of succession... ?
The fine silken bedsheets clung to Angelo's legs as he turned and wraithed about in his nightmaric state, to him, the world was dark, freezing although his sweat was clinging hopelessly to his brow, trailing over his face and neck. Gentle brown hair plastered to his forehead and cheeks as the dream sent his body into fits of pain and attack. Angelo's dream was that nearly of a prophecy. His unnamed rival was before him, adornded with the wings of a true demon, giant black bat-like wings that folded close against the blonde man's back neatly, like folded sheets of satin. The man's cold, uncaring saphire eyes sent an aura of power about his form. He stepped toward Angelo and smirked, his voice booming and echoing in a twisted but assured way around the nothingness in which the two found each other.
"Little lion's lost his way.. All alone in this cold world.. "The last words cut like a knife as a snicker sent a shockwave through Angelo's dream state.
He tried his best to speak, but his lips felt as if they were frozen together, he could feel his true heart racing as the man made his way around him, mimicing his inner pain with verbal torment. The rival spread his wings out, to about an eight foot span and traced his finger over Angelo's cheek. They felt like talons against his ice cold skin and the hint of a hiss escaped his chilled lips. His gloved hands griped his broadsword tightly, feeling like five icecubes about a glacier, his breath fogged into a white mist as it hit the air before him. Clouds of black and navy blue covered the land, sky and horizon and his rival stood, showing no hint of cold as hs victim stood shivering in his own dreamscape.The air began to whip about his body, sending his loose black tunic into violent fits around his form, lashing about him in quick sudden movements. His eyes did their best to remain open against the torrent of wind against him, and the demon stood, unmoved by the elements. His smirk pierced the air like a hot knife through butter and, abruptly the dream came crashing to an end.
Angelo bolted up. Silken sheets clung to his body as the cold sweat smoothed over his ice cold skin. He panted softly, leaning forward and hunching over, blinking a few times before he could fully gather his thoughts together. The icy chill of late night winds filled his large bedroom from the window that had somehow become open during the night. Angelo rubbed his frozen hands together as thousands of thoughts sparaticly entered into his somewhat paranoid mind. He could not remember the last time a dream had sent him into fits of pain through his true body, nor could he conjour up an idea as to whom his demonic tormentor had been. He moved to the edge of his bed and shook the soaked brown hair from his forehead nd used his weak hands to shove himself up from the mattress and leaned aganist the oaken windowsill, nonchalantly staring at the triple moons that hung in the violet night sky. . .
Hours must have passed as Angelo stared up towards the three moons of Tylinde, the red moon Riyx, the white moon, Lonur and the smallest of the moons, the blue moon Cturin. The golden stars danced upon the surface of the small pond outside of the Chandrakant Manor and it shown with an elegant azure hue aganist the contrast of the emerald green grass that grew just outside of the banks. Angelo's form stood stoticly on his bedroom's wooden floor, his room was located on the third story of hs family's Manor and rivaled in size to that of the Master's Room. He sighed and quietly searched the sky for the constellations he had learned in his childhood, the first he saw, ironically, was that of the Tear. A small constellation made of five small stars, creating a teardrop like form in the northern reaches of the sky.
~ How strange... ~
Angelo thought to himself, the deluge of emotions slowly began to subside while his thoughts wandered freely over the area.
The face of his unknown tormentor filtered back into his mind's eye and he pondered quietly, the thoughts trying their best to break through to haunt him again.
~ ... and why did he call me... a 'little lion'? ~
He could see the silver sun peeking over the horizon and he was startled at how long he had been standing at the window, but instead of going back to bed he chose to ready himself for the day and perhaps get an early breakfast before he was sent to arms training with the Manor's Armsmaster, Chulic. He half groaned as the servant's bells rang to awaken them for the day. Angelo half pitied them but never made it known because he too was one to issue overly abudant orders to the house hold maids and butlers. . .
Angelo's light weight house shoes scuffed over the highly polished floors of the manner as he made his way to the smaller Dining Hall the manor residents used for unimportant meals, breakfast being one of them. He passed by the kitchen and smirked to himself as he listened to an argument between the head chef, Rindioe Marchevious, and one of his apprentice-cooks, whose name didn't really make a difference.
"What were you THINKING?" The older chef's voice boomed through the kitchen. "I was THINKING that a few herbs would make it stand out more!" The voice was younger and equally angry. "I don't care what you think!--" The voice gradually faded out as Angelo stepped into the dining hall, a soft chuckle escaped his pale-red lips.
The dining hall was a smaller version of the Major Hall, where dinners were held every night, this room was just off of the kitchen and about half the size as its parent room. The tables were arranged in a type of "H" shape, the Master, Mistress and First Born sat at the center table, whilst aunts, uncles and other children randomly arranged themselves at the two verticle tables.
Angelo approached the Family Table from behind and took a seat beside his father. Gravil Chandrakant was not the most powerful man Angelo had seen, his face was sharply carved with his deep set blue eyes looking as light and airy as when he had been younger. Brown-red hair was cropped into a close cut to his father;s skull and made him look all the smaller, to Angelo at least, the man had long since past his prime of life and was slowly giving into age, one year at a time.His form was built slender but muscular and had with stood many battles over his lifetime. His mother was an entirely different story...
Prastrana Chandrakant looked far younger thn her tender age of sixty-two. He hair still remained a platinum-blonde shade and her emerald green eyes shown slightly less than those of her husband's. Her form was long and graceful and unnaturally tall for a woman, standing nearly 5'11" was almost unheard of in Angelo's day and age... She sat beside Master Chandrakant and nipped at her breakfast like a small bird does at its own food. Angelo felt an uneasiness as he sat down and arched a fine brow towards his father skeptically.
"Father, what's wrong?" He asked his voice hardly above a whisper but he knew his father had heard him. His father gave a sideways glance to his son and half glared. The tension in the air smelt of bitter words and Angelo silenced himself. His mother leaned forwards, over the table , She nodded to her son in approval of his silence as a servant dropped the plate of eggs and meat before him. Angelo could clearly tell why he heard the argument in the kitchen, the plate smelled more like a grassland than it did of anything he'd ever thought of eating before...
He listlessly listened to the conversations at the table to his right, the closest to him. His cousin, Ridevyl was once again complaining about the awful hunting grounds around Chandrakant Manor. "I finally found a Trocibee nest yesterday!" He yowled like a wounded cat. "It took me well over two candle-lights to catch the bloody thing!" Angelo dropped his ear from the conversation Ridevyl was having with his siblings with a loud groan. The only reason Ridevyl couldn't find his precious Trocibee nests was because, one, they're out of season and have retreated to their Winter Nestings in the upper region of the Yrral Mountains and two, Ridevyl never looked in the right places. Angelo never pointed this out because hunting trips with his cousins always turned out to be rather humorous, Ridevyl running after his precious feathered-lunches, eventually tripping over the root of a copper-elm and falling face first into an assortment of unfavourable places. Angelo's favourite had been when Ridevyl's face made a rather fast introduction into his own horse's... droppings. Angelo had never let him live the four year old story down.
After breakfast Angelo retreated to his room to prepare for his daily training with the Chandrakant Armsmaster whom his father had hired less than two years ago. He dressed in the somewhat burly practice armor the Armsmaster had purchased years ago which weighed him down heavily. He picked up the thin, rapier style wooden practise sword and made his way, in a slight waddle, towards the Training Field which sat just outside the Manor's walls, set up right next to the Equine Fields, where Angelo would retreat after practise for a ride or two before the day let out...
Armsmaster Chulic was older than Angelo's father but not by much. He was larger and heavier than his father had ever been. Before moving into the Manor Chulic had been a General in the Frendilve Army,the only reason master Chandrakant had met with the battle-seasoned General was because of a rather extravagant carnival his family had atteneded where Chulic had been playing Guardsman to the gaming carts.
Angelo and Chulic had a mutually respectful relationship. angelo to Chulic because of his keen eyes for oncoming attack and Chulic to Angelo because he was the First Born of the Chandrakant Family and his offensive fighting style he had grown accustomed to. Angelo entered just as Chulic finished polishing his low-quality leather training boots. The elder man spoke without turning to face his trainee.
"Time to train ye young'ins, eh?" The man's lips curled into a slight smile as Angelo sat the raiper practice sword aside to take up a slightly more broad version of the toy.
"I wouldn't say 'young'ins' but, yea." He smirked and peered over the man's shoulders from behind. "Scrub them any harder and the rag'll go straight through!" He snickered and stepped backwards and Chulic sat the boot aside, moving towards the wall which housed the armor and equipped his own chest guard, helm and leg guards as Angelo merely adjusted his own.
"Don' see why you don' store ye stuffs right 'ere." He heard Chulic mumble from beneath the leather helm.
Angelo stepped towards the center of the Training-Circle and waited for Chulic to ready himself. "I don't store it here because I'm afraid of you cleaning it!" He chuckled as his trainer entered the ring. "Aye, boy! I'm not going easy on ye fer that 'un!" Chulic said, a tinge of sarcasm to his voice. "Ready?" He asked boredly, tapping the tip of the wooden broadsword to the ground. Angelo peered out from his helm and prepared for the first attack. "Ready!"
The swords, although wooden, could cause a lot of bruising if they hit unpadded areas. Angelo's right sholder learned that lesson as heavy copper-elm wood crashed diagonally into his unarmored shoulder. He recoiled with an upwards dicing motion to Chulic's underarm as he regrouped for the next attack. The older man snickered and back stepped and spun his sword. Angelo had seen this desperation move before and could try his best to counter.Angelo strode to the right side, as Chulic's left arm swung towards him. He felt the wind speed up as he tried his best to dodge backwards but felt the thud of wood against cheap leather padding and feel with a thud onto his rear. He groaned and pulled off his helm, He felt as if a dozen Trocibees were dancing about his head. Chulic only chuckled and offered a hand to the dizzy young man, pulling him to his feet.
"Ye young'ins... all about gettin' yer tails outta th' way!" Chulic preached as Angelo regained his land legs. "Ye old'ins,"Angelo countered "Always swingin' yer weight aroun' like sum bullies!" Angelo tried his best to imitate his trainer's accent and executed it nearly perfectly with a nonchalant smirk dancing over his thin lips. The older man grinned and laughed softly. Shaking his head as he laid the training sword back aganist the wall. Angelo shook his head as the familiar feeling of sweat weighted hair returned, random strands of dark brown clung to his forehead and gave him the appearance of a recently drowned cat. He strolled casually towards the wall and hung his helm upon the empty hook, giving a sideways glance to Chulic.
"I'll leave my things here for this one night," he proclaimed as he hung the chest guard along the wall. "If you promise on you honor not to clean them!" He turned to him fully as he sat on a solid oak bench to removed the leg guards and boots, setting them aside in a disturbingly orderly manner. Chulic paced and stroked his lightly beared chin, considering the offer in a joking manner.
"Well..., Only because yer th' Lord's First Born, I'll accept ye offer." Chulic nodded with approval as Angelo smirked and finished tieing his boots. He stood and reverted to a more mannerly form of speech.
"Lovely lesson today, Chulic.. but what exactly have I learned?" He arched a brow quizatically. "Absolutely nothin' m'lord," Chulic replied, slyly. "Nothin' ye didn' know already!"
Angelo nodded in approval and left the moderately sized training room and made the short journey from the practice fields to the home of the Chandrakant's Equine Fields to take in a short ride before returning home, possibly to investigate the bitter words which had corrupted the air at breakfast.