Prologue
"It's all because of that damned Esthar and their sorceress!" The pale man slammed his fist onto the table.
"Honey, please. You'll wake the child. I don't like this war any more than you do, but what's the use of pointing fingers?" The blonde woman chastised her husband, looking expectantly at the door of their little girl's room, waiting for the sound of her waking. He opened his mouth, but she merely held a finger to his lips to silence him.
The two had been married for only a short while. About four or five years. The man was a pale, gaunt brown-haired, green-eyed subject. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed in the looks department, but he definitely was sharp as hell. His intelligence had got him and his family out of many a scrape but it could be dampened by his stubborness. The woman was a striking blonde when she wanted to be and even now with a war going on, she still kept her natural beauty.
The two were formerly from Deling City. But then the war struck. Deling City became readily fit for war, but unspeakable as a home. The two had been moving from place to place. There were always places to go to for shelter. Since this the beginning of this 'Sorceress War' as it was now popularly being called, enclaves of refugees dotted the Galbadian continent. These were permissible for a day or two, but to raise their family they needed a real house. Not a tent or a shabby lean-to. Or at least a real room. They had found a shack on the outskirts of a logging town called Timber.
They had been able to base themselves and their childsafely here for two months. But in war, tranquility never lasts too long. They knew it too well, and they would soon get a reminder.
"Hey Mister! Mister!" A sudden gruff yell and sharp banging from the other side of the front door raised alarm in the couple's minds. The man unbolted the door to see a young man, much like himself. This other man wore a ratty green overcoat.
"What's wrong? Is it Esthar?" The woman asked, frantically. She raised a hand to her mouth as she heard blasts from the further end of the town. Her question had been answered.
"We've got to get out of here!" The woman's husband exclaimed. "Get the kid," he ordered his wife. She nodded, hurrying into the child's bedroom. The brown-haired man went outside to start the car. He closed the door of his vehicle when the messenger approached his window.
"Before you go," said the man in the trenchcoat, "I have something for you!" The messenger pulled a pistol out of his trenchcoat and before the blink of an eye, blood was splattered on the windshield. "Heh, poor bastard never knew it was coming." He took a box of matches from his pocket and ripped out as many as he could at once. In short, the car and its owner became nothing more than a blazing bonfire in less than five minutes. He placed the gun back into his trenchcoat slowly, rubbing the emblem on the weapon's barrel. It was the emblem of Esthar.
As the fire roared, the murderer entered the shack. The woman emerged from the children's room with a bag in one arm and a tiny blonde-haired girl clutching to her other. The man in the trenchcoat enter the room with a dangerous grin plastered on his face. The young girl smelled something strange in the air, but she couldn't figure out what it was. But her mother knew it: burning flesh. She pieced two and two together. She was ready to die.
The blonde set her child on the grass, an innocent girl and told her to shut her eyes. But the girl wanted to see. She saw it all. She watched as her mother dragged her feet to the unfamiliar man.
"Please. Do it quick." She requested, with only a hint of fear in her voice. She clenched her teeth and screwed her eyes shut. But no blast came.
"You're not worth the time." The man scoffed. He turned his back on her and she sighed a breath of relief. "But then again..." he fired a shot at her over his back. Her eyes were frozen open in surprise. She dropped first to her knees and then her head landed on the ground. He hadn't missed.
All the while the woman's daughter stood there, mouth open in a silent scream. Her feet were frozen to the ground and she couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't make a sound. Why did that man hert her mommy? Why didn't she get up? Why?
The man spit to the side before taking his leave. He faded into the forest. The girl struggled to run to her mother. She fell onto her knees beside her.
"Mommy? Are yoo okay?" The girl choked out. The woman groaned in reply. The child began to bawl; she howled as loud as she could. What else was there to do? She didn't even notice her mother turn over onto her back.
"Honey, please don't cry," the woman grunted. The girl sniffed and stopped her screams. "Let me tell you a story."
"Story?" the girl wimpered.
"Yes." The woman reached out to stroke her daughter's hair. "About Hyne."
"Hyne?"
"Hyne created this world. She made people with her magic. And then she created all the animals and plants." She let out a big sigh. Her breaths became more labored. "But even before Hyne there were greater things. Like Fate, and Happiness."
"And Love?" The girl murmured.
"Yes. That too. But there was one thing that was so powerful that Hyne became jealous. It was Truth. Do you know what Truth is, honey?"
"I know, mommy."
"That's good. Many things were under her control, but not Truth. So she decided to steal Truth from the world. The only bit left what we humans were able to hide."
"But - but then how do we know no one is lying?" The girl hiccuped, clutching her mother's side.
"We don't know. That's what makes us so weak. Humans. We need truth, if only a little. We have nothing without Truth." The woman's breaths became shorter and more labored. She put a hand to her chest, where the bullet had hit her.
"Where is it, mommy?" The girl sobbed.
The woman clenched her eyes shut from the pain in her chest, not from the bullet, but from the thought of leaving her daughter. "No one knows." Her body started to feel numb from the loss of blood.
"Truth!" The girl yelled. "I'll find it for yoo, mommy! I'll take it back! I promise!" The girl sobbed.
"Find it. And give it back to the ones who needed it the most. Us." The child began to weep bitter tears. But her mother knew she could do nothing but tell her daughter. She had to tell her daughter -
"Goodbye, Quisty. Goodbye."
--------------------------------------
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Final Fantasy VIII or any part of SquareSoft. But a man can dream can't he?
A/N: Thanks for reading this! I hope to turn this into a series, though I may need some suggestions. Feel free to review and write any comments and email me at mangaguy@asianavenue.com. This fic is quite tragic compared to the lighthearted stuff I wrote before, but I hope you liked it!
"It's all because of that damned Esthar and their sorceress!" The pale man slammed his fist onto the table.
"Honey, please. You'll wake the child. I don't like this war any more than you do, but what's the use of pointing fingers?" The blonde woman chastised her husband, looking expectantly at the door of their little girl's room, waiting for the sound of her waking. He opened his mouth, but she merely held a finger to his lips to silence him.
The two had been married for only a short while. About four or five years. The man was a pale, gaunt brown-haired, green-eyed subject. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed in the looks department, but he definitely was sharp as hell. His intelligence had got him and his family out of many a scrape but it could be dampened by his stubborness. The woman was a striking blonde when she wanted to be and even now with a war going on, she still kept her natural beauty.
The two were formerly from Deling City. But then the war struck. Deling City became readily fit for war, but unspeakable as a home. The two had been moving from place to place. There were always places to go to for shelter. Since this the beginning of this 'Sorceress War' as it was now popularly being called, enclaves of refugees dotted the Galbadian continent. These were permissible for a day or two, but to raise their family they needed a real house. Not a tent or a shabby lean-to. Or at least a real room. They had found a shack on the outskirts of a logging town called Timber.
They had been able to base themselves and their childsafely here for two months. But in war, tranquility never lasts too long. They knew it too well, and they would soon get a reminder.
"Hey Mister! Mister!" A sudden gruff yell and sharp banging from the other side of the front door raised alarm in the couple's minds. The man unbolted the door to see a young man, much like himself. This other man wore a ratty green overcoat.
"What's wrong? Is it Esthar?" The woman asked, frantically. She raised a hand to her mouth as she heard blasts from the further end of the town. Her question had been answered.
"We've got to get out of here!" The woman's husband exclaimed. "Get the kid," he ordered his wife. She nodded, hurrying into the child's bedroom. The brown-haired man went outside to start the car. He closed the door of his vehicle when the messenger approached his window.
"Before you go," said the man in the trenchcoat, "I have something for you!" The messenger pulled a pistol out of his trenchcoat and before the blink of an eye, blood was splattered on the windshield. "Heh, poor bastard never knew it was coming." He took a box of matches from his pocket and ripped out as many as he could at once. In short, the car and its owner became nothing more than a blazing bonfire in less than five minutes. He placed the gun back into his trenchcoat slowly, rubbing the emblem on the weapon's barrel. It was the emblem of Esthar.
As the fire roared, the murderer entered the shack. The woman emerged from the children's room with a bag in one arm and a tiny blonde-haired girl clutching to her other. The man in the trenchcoat enter the room with a dangerous grin plastered on his face. The young girl smelled something strange in the air, but she couldn't figure out what it was. But her mother knew it: burning flesh. She pieced two and two together. She was ready to die.
The blonde set her child on the grass, an innocent girl and told her to shut her eyes. But the girl wanted to see. She saw it all. She watched as her mother dragged her feet to the unfamiliar man.
"Please. Do it quick." She requested, with only a hint of fear in her voice. She clenched her teeth and screwed her eyes shut. But no blast came.
"You're not worth the time." The man scoffed. He turned his back on her and she sighed a breath of relief. "But then again..." he fired a shot at her over his back. Her eyes were frozen open in surprise. She dropped first to her knees and then her head landed on the ground. He hadn't missed.
All the while the woman's daughter stood there, mouth open in a silent scream. Her feet were frozen to the ground and she couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't make a sound. Why did that man hert her mommy? Why didn't she get up? Why?
The man spit to the side before taking his leave. He faded into the forest. The girl struggled to run to her mother. She fell onto her knees beside her.
"Mommy? Are yoo okay?" The girl choked out. The woman groaned in reply. The child began to bawl; she howled as loud as she could. What else was there to do? She didn't even notice her mother turn over onto her back.
"Honey, please don't cry," the woman grunted. The girl sniffed and stopped her screams. "Let me tell you a story."
"Story?" the girl wimpered.
"Yes." The woman reached out to stroke her daughter's hair. "About Hyne."
"Hyne?"
"Hyne created this world. She made people with her magic. And then she created all the animals and plants." She let out a big sigh. Her breaths became more labored. "But even before Hyne there were greater things. Like Fate, and Happiness."
"And Love?" The girl murmured.
"Yes. That too. But there was one thing that was so powerful that Hyne became jealous. It was Truth. Do you know what Truth is, honey?"
"I know, mommy."
"That's good. Many things were under her control, but not Truth. So she decided to steal Truth from the world. The only bit left what we humans were able to hide."
"But - but then how do we know no one is lying?" The girl hiccuped, clutching her mother's side.
"We don't know. That's what makes us so weak. Humans. We need truth, if only a little. We have nothing without Truth." The woman's breaths became shorter and more labored. She put a hand to her chest, where the bullet had hit her.
"Where is it, mommy?" The girl sobbed.
The woman clenched her eyes shut from the pain in her chest, not from the bullet, but from the thought of leaving her daughter. "No one knows." Her body started to feel numb from the loss of blood.
"Truth!" The girl yelled. "I'll find it for yoo, mommy! I'll take it back! I promise!" The girl sobbed.
"Find it. And give it back to the ones who needed it the most. Us." The child began to weep bitter tears. But her mother knew she could do nothing but tell her daughter. She had to tell her daughter -
"Goodbye, Quisty. Goodbye."
--------------------------------------
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Final Fantasy VIII or any part of SquareSoft. But a man can dream can't he?
A/N: Thanks for reading this! I hope to turn this into a series, though I may need some suggestions. Feel free to review and write any comments and email me at mangaguy@asianavenue.com. This fic is quite tragic compared to the lighthearted stuff I wrote before, but I hope you liked it!
