The raindrops made a soft drumming as each came into contact with a surface. The quite little town took no notice of the rain because it was already dark and many people were already in bed.
In a house, a child of 6 year old was saying goodnight to his mother and father before being tucked in bed by his older sister. Little did they know that that would be the last time they said goodnight… The boy fell asleep in bed to the rhythm of the raindrops.
THUD! THUD! THUD! The heavy footsteps that neared the village wasn't heard until it was too late…
Screams of terror and anguish filled the air along with the smoke that rose from the fire. Blood pooled on the ground and stained the stones red as bodies of mages and demons alike were on the ground. Everything had to die………… Nothing was to be spared.
The mother woke the children up and handed them two backpacks and told them to run for it. They would meet soon… In her heart, the mother knew that it was a lie but it was the only way to get her children from harm's way.
'Keep this safe for me.' She said as she grasped her son's hand and an icy presence was transferred into him.
'I will mother.' Said her son.
She saw her children running off and smiled as she ran back in the front as she helped her husband defend the village. The people were winning until; a tall winged demon flew forth and launched a devastating attack. Husband and wife where thrown back and death came for them as they died hand in hand.
Glancing over, the boy leapt and tried to get a orc from killing his sister. An elbow threw him back and he watched in horror as his sister was thrown off the cliff – screaming. A tall winged demon stood over him as the blade fell in a flash of silver and pain erupted on the boy's face as he was thrown back and his head struck a rock that knocked him out.
The tall winged demon turned and summoned flares that struck every building in the village. The sound of his evil laughter overpowered the screams that were turned into silence…
17-year old Squall Leonhart bolted up in bed drenched in cold sweat. It was the same dream of the horrific incident that had happened eleven years ago when Draken destroyed his hometown and murdered everyone… Except for him. He was fortunate enough to survive but that didn't mean a thing. After all, he rather preferred to be dead. All he had known was gone and every night, that same nightmare haunted him.
Deciding that sleep was impossible to retain, he got up and looked in the mirror. The mirror image of him was only of a muscular 17-year-old youth with stormy blue/gray eyes with light brunette hair. Squall's appearance was flawless except for a thin brown scar. He was in a pair of black pants and a white shirt that was decorated with a silver pendent of a lion's roaring head that hung on a thick silver chain. This image was common here at Balamb Academy where young students like him were enrolled to learn and master the arts of demon hunting.
Squall, however, was attending his first year in the actual hands-on course not because of the reasons others have. It wasn't for glory or for money. His reasons were to avenge his family's death and bring an end to Draken's reign of terror. Tracing the scar on his face, he could feel the pain when it was first made nearly a decade or so. The scar was given to him by Draken and served as a reminder for why he was here in Balamb Academy.
Being the top student in the first year rank was a very high prestige but Squall didn't pay much attention to it. He wasn't like other top students that hung out with buddies or bragged about their grades. No, Squall was a loner and mastered the gunblade to live in the warrior's world.
('The others can call me a loner or a lone wolf. I don't care anymore. I have devoted my life mastering the gunblade and magical arts that would be my only dependence when I face Draken – once more and for the last time. It is either he falls at that time or I do. But I have no intention of failing. The motivation of my sister's screams pushes me on.
That is the reason why I distanced myself from the rest. Loss is hard to cope with and I don't want to face it again. When you get to know someone, you develop feelings toward them. Whether it's in a friendship or romance, it doesn't matter since you'll be parted in the end so why resist it? Death is inevitable and if you have loved ones near by, they'll only suffer so why even bother? You will be alone in the end…') thought Squall.
He opened the lacquered black case on his desk and lying in black cushioned velvet was his gunblade – the Lionheart. Squall remembered that his father made the case and his mother lined the interior with velvet for his gunblade. He had watched them. The original gunblade Squall had started with was the Revolver but as he collected items and gil from missions, he upgraded it to its final form. The process had been filled with hardship but it was worth it.
Th Lionheart was one of the most powerful weapons in existence. Not to mention, it was the only thing he can rely on. Grabbing the hilt, a tingling sensation raced in his fingers. Squall knew that today would be the day in which the first year cadets would face a real opponent – which wasn't a sparring partner.
It would actually be a demon from the woods. Closing his eyes and opening them again, he decided that it was time to start the day early….
Headmaster Cid was already in his office as he spotted a figure walk toward the training area. Without guessing, he already knew which student it was – Squall Leonhart. Glancing over at the clock on the mantel and noted that it was the same time everyday in which he saw Squall walk toward the training area. The boy was hardworking – maybe a bit too hardworking since he kept to himself.
Cid didn't blame Squall for how he acted. In fact, he was rather impressed by the boy's ability to focus on a task while the others would have had a severe trauma condition… Recalling the day 11 years ago, Cid still shuddered…
It was a rainy night as he and Edea made their way to the small village/town of Windhill. They had seen smoke and speculated that demon activity had taken place. Draken's forces were turning up left and right and left a wake of chaos. Edea and Cid hoped to make it in time and possibly save some of the townsfolk or assist but that didn't happen…
When they got there, the demons were already gone – headed to the west. But what they left behind was an awful sight. Beautiful buildings that were burned down and still smoldering… Roads that were spotless and clean now were red with blood. Limb pieces were scattered here and there as the spilled organs from disemboweled torsos lay on the sidewalk. Men, women, and children and even infants laid dead along with orc foot soldiers, a few headhunters, scavengers, imps and ogres.
The ogres have caused giant cracks in the ground and by the size of the footprints; Cid can only speculate the shockwave that was created with each step.
"Cid! Come over here!" came Edea's voice. Cid ran over near the cliff's edge and noted a few bodies that lay broken on the jagged rocks. Focusing on Edea's beautiful face, he looked at what she had called him over for.
It was a boy no older than six years old in a pool of what seemed to be his own blood. A deep cut ran across his forehead. Cid shook his head sadly. The demons wouldn't even spare one that was so young…
"Cid! He's alive," said Edea as she noticed her husband's lapse in concentration. "Barely though. We need to take him back to our home. There's nothing we can do here, no one survived but him."
Cid nodded as he took off his cloak and helped Edea wrap the boy and carried him back to their home.
Numerous cuts and bruises covered the boy but it wasn't the only challenge. The deep wound made with the blade was poisonous and none of the antidotes seemed to work. The boy had a fever and was dying…slowly and painfully…
They had almost lost Squall too if it hadn't been for his miraculous recovery…
Morning had come and Cid found Edea asleep – sitting by the boy's bedside. Cid sat down on the edge of the bed and as he did, stormy blue eyes opened and regarded him cautiously.
"Hello there," said Cid. "how do you feel?" The boy made no comment as Edea woke up as well.
"My name is Cid Kramer and this is my wife Edea. What's your name?" said Cid as he tried again.
"I'm Squall Leonhart," Replied the boy in a firm tone. "My parents are dead aren't they?"
It seemed more like a statement more than a question so Cid and Edea exchanged glances – unsure of what to say.
Cid can smile at that moment now. It has been eleven years and Squall had grown into an intelligent, polite but quiet man. The lone wolf attitude was expected since Squall's trust in others was great but yet, he wanted to be independent because of the incident that left a mental scar like the physical one forever in his mind.
He opened his drawer and pulled out a long sword that he called Windstrike. Cid, himself, was a demon hunter before he took over as being a headmaster for Balamb Academy. The demons were advancing slowly and gained more power each day. Cid sensed untapped potential within Squall that he had yet to see. But already, the set of fighting skills Squall had shown were remarkable and quite deadly – if more potential was unlocked, then Squall would be one of the best demon hunters the world has yet to see…