I don't own the characters, or the world they originally lived in – just the plotline of this story.
Thanks to: my prereaders, even though they aren't working on this story, because I'm too lazy to send it and none of them have actually played the game...
Dragonchic: YES! You came back for more! People are returning to this fic! And...yes. That whole memory thing is explained here, and Seifer's whereabouts and feelings toward everything are...not. Sorry. This is turning out longer than I thought it would, which is a GOOD thing, but he will show up within the next two chapters, I PROMISE! AND I MEAN IT THIS TIME! ^_^;;;
Amy: Wow! Addictive? Yay! Well, here's the next bit...and as I'm gonna have to say to everyone, YES, Seifer is coming. And the explanation of the remark is in here. As for deep...most of the time I get 'goofy,' so I'm glad I can pull off deep, too. ^_~
Dee-whY-Cee-aRe: For the third time: sorry Seifer hasn't shown. He will in the next two chapters, I promise; and I'm flattered that you like the story itself enough to forgo his presence a little while longer...
Wynter: Yippie! Your favorite's list - thank you so much!
Aniiston: Not only an email, but a review! I'm glad you thought I kept them in character; that's often the hardest part. I really don't know where the idea for Quistis's condition came from, but since she is often described (even by Squaresoft) as a depressive, I thought I had to take her character a step further than the others. She's definitely the hardest to keep in character because she can't say anything, but I'm consistently surprised (as I'm plotting out this story) at the windows her handicap is opening up. They'll help take both the story – and her character – where I want them to go.
And now, without further ado...
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THE DYING OF THE LIGHT
Chapter 3: The Land of the Dead
By: nakigoe-chan
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Life
is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.
-Isaac Asimov
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The little girl screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
Black fire laced around her and shot toward the ceiling, flames that she knew were not real but burned her all the same.
More screaming surrounded her, intermingled with the fire, and it was just as painful. Was that her own voice she heard, making that horrible animal yowl?
If the torture had been real, she would have fallen away into unconsciousness, which was by now a welcome friend. Life was so much less painful, she thought, when you weren't aware you were a part of it.
This felt like the fire that had taken her mother away.
Make it stop, she thought. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop makeitstopmakeitstop...
Through the haze of agony she blankly noted that the pain wasn't physical. It was in her head; it was as if someone inside of her was in pain.
Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop...
Someone inside of her was in pain from...something, and they were trying to tear her mind apart...trying to shed their own agony by causing her pain...
She saw kind eyes, staring at her, looking at her as if she was a friend.
She saw a mirror, a sword, and a bejeweled heart.
She saw a lady in white holding a cup from which crystalline magic spilled onto all others to bring them safety and peace.
The lady in white was the source of pain for her – for the thing inside of her.
And then she saw a shadow beyond, and it swallowed up the lady in white.
The thing inside of her saw this, too, and it began to laugh, and the fierce joy it – and with it, the little girl – felt was somehow worse than the pain.
Makeitstopmakeitstopohpleasegodmakeitstop...
And then, finally, she saw nothing but darkness.
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"Because I don't know anyone named Rinoa."
There had been a brief flash of recognition when the lady who called herself Julia had mentioned the name, but as Squall combed through his memories, there was no one named Rinoa in them. There were vague memories of a few other people – his old teacher, Quistis, his rival Seifer, his fellow SeeDs – dare he call them friends? – Zell, Irvine, and Selphie. They had been on a mission...Seifer had betrayed them...there had been a sorceress...
There was something missing. Why was SeeD involved? What had gotten them into this mess? Something about an owl, he thought. A forest owl? No, it was a group called the Forest Owls; a resistant team led by...led by...
Led by a pair of hazel eyes, a pair of hazel eyes that he got lost in...
Squall thought idly that those eyes held more peace for him than that place on the horizon...then snapped himself out of his daze. If he had really loved this person, he wouldn't have just forgotten them.
"I don't know anyone named Rinoa. I never did. Now let me pass. Sorry, but you've made a mistake." And he once again started walking.
{I was afraid this would happen.} Julia sighed.
"What?"
{This place,} she told him, {is a path to what humans refer to as Heaven; a place of peace and happiness. Unfortunately, your memories of Rinoa presented a problem, because you could not be happy without her...if you remembered her.}
Squall could only stare at her with questioning eyes. He was so tired...and it would be so much easier to just turn and walk toward the light in the distance. Why should he trust this woman, any more than the Lurk? The hazel eyes of the girl he didn't know haunted the back of his mind, but he was able to push them aside.
He would be happy in the place in the distance, he knew. His life was over. His responsibility for others had stretched him too thin to feel in life; Heaven and death, to him, meant escape from all the duty that had been so suddenly thrust upon him.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I need to go there. I don't know this Rinoa. You've got the wrong guy."
{Squall, please.} There was desperation in the ghost's voice. {You need to go that way!} And she pointed in the opposite direction, where clouds grumbled ominously overhead and bathed the ground in dark colors. {You can regain your memories...}
"I don't want them," he told her firmly, and walked away through the In-Between towards the light on the horizon.
Julia fell to her knees on the ground with tears streaming down her face. No, no, no...
{You had your chance,} she muttered bitterly to herself, {and you blew it. And now you're nothing again...}
Squall kept walking, his back to her, so he did not see her fade away into the empty air.
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"This is the girl from my dreams!"
Quistis sat up, looking very interested, but Zell looked doubtful. "Uh...are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure!" I said indignantly. "You act like that's a problem!"
Zell sprang to his own defense. "What?! N-no way!"
In fact, he was being way too defensive.
"Are you sure?" I demanded, just to bait him.
"Yeah! Totally! I was just a little, you know, surprised, because I thought you were doing all this for Squall and because you used to like Seifer and let's face it that's just a picture, but I'm totally fine with it!"
I blinked at him. Huh?
"And she is pretty cute so I have no problem with the whole situation. Especially if, you know, you and Quistis wanna get it on or something because I would have like no problem with that. You wouldn't even know I was here," He babbled.
Oh. "Uh, actually, Zell...I..." How could I salvage this situation without laughing like a lunatic?
"Lesbianism rocks," Zell assured me, an anxious expression on his face.
Quistis had her face in her hands, and was shaking with silent laughter. Traitor.
"Zell...I said the girl from my dreams, not the girl of my dreams. You know, the weird dreams I told you Ultimecia gave me? They were about this girl..." I pointed, red-faced with embarrassment and contained laughter, at the drawing.
"Oh." Zell was cool with that for about two seconds, at which point he remembered what he'd just said. "Oooooh..." he moaned, turning beet red and putting his face in his hands. Quistis gave him one enthusiastic pat on the back as if to say hey, WE enjoyed it!
Zell looked up sheepishly, and I started to laugh. I couldn't hold it in; it just poured out, guttural from lack of use. Quistis joined in with her silent version, and finally Zell did too, and we just sat there hooting our heads off.
We were laughing. And I suddenly realized why – we had hope again, because we had each other. We still had faith in ourselves and our friends, and that was worth everything – that was the one thing that might give us another chance to salvage the world we loved.
And then Ultimecia appeared out of thin air before us, clutching her hands over her ears with an expression on her face that said Hell hath no fury like...and suddenly we didn't find everything so funny anymore.
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Squall walked across the endless expanse of nothingness, trying to forget those hazel eyes.
A sad trait of that which we wish to ignore or that which we try not to think about is that it tends to repeatedly return from the back of our minds to monopolize our thoughts.
Every step was a struggle. Squall wondered if whoever was in control of this whole sorry situation was making the going harder on purpose – to make him work for his peace. It wasn't fair; nothing ever was. Not his life, not his death.
How had he died? He'd forgotten to ask Julia that.
It was useless, either way. What did he care what she said? She was trying to keep him from that place on the horizon – she was as bad as the Lurk.
There was a thought. What if she HAD been a Lurk? The Lurk had put a voice in his head; why couldn't Julia have put the image of those eyes in his head, in an effort to send him off on a nonexistent quest into darkness and despair?
Of course – that must be it. He remembered everyone else from his life; how could she possibly claim that he'd forgotten the most important one?
Despite his satisfaction at discovering the origin of the eyes, Squall was slightly taken aback as another thought entered his head. It was the Lurk's fault, but he couldn't push it away...
If it wasn't this Rinoa, then who WAS the most important person in his life? Who had he ever let in?
His first thought was Ellone. But he hadn't seen her in forever; if she were the most important person in his life, then he had shunned humans for mere memories, and that was just as depressing as having no one at all.
Next his thoughts sprang to Quistis – poor hopeless Quistis, who had thought she was in love with him, who had taught him and watched over him, but who, despite all her efforts, had been unable to bring down his walls.
His thoughts even wandered to Seifer – Seifer, who had perhaps understood him best because of their rivalry, who had been a total jerk but who had also been willing to risk everything for...for...
For those hazel eyes...
What? Squall thought. Wait a minute...
He remembered those eyes crying when they'd thought that Seifer had been executed...he remembered the voice that belonged with those eyes – though he still couldn't hear it – saying that the heart behind those eyes had thought it had been in love with him...with Seifer...
Squall stumbled, a dagger of ice through his heart.
No. No, she can't have been in love with Seifer!
"What are you thinking?" He growled out loud to himself. "She's not REAL!"
His hands flickered before him. He was becoming transparent. Was that supposed to happen when you died?
Somehow, Squall thought not. It felt as if his soul was weakening, breaking, dissolving...
The dagger of ice was stronger now; no longer through his heart, it now pierced his shoulder. This was no metaphorical icicle; it was long and jagged and very real...he could see it...
A woman stood before him – the sorceress Edea. Matron, his mind said. I remember...
But she stood there, staring at him with blank golden eyes, as he stumbled back and fell. Over a barrier he went, and he was falling further, down towards the icy water he somehow knew was below him. There was the sky, twinkling with stars...and he remembered someone, in another memory, pointing at them and smiling, but he couldn't remember who...and then someone was above him, holding out their hand towards his falling body, and he wanted more than anything to reach back towards them but found he lacked the strength...
A flash of hazel eyes...
Squall gasped as the world – whatever world he was in – righted itself suddenly. He was on his hands and knees, sweating and wheezing, in the gray-green world of the In-Between. There was no icicle, no Edea, and no hazel eyes.
He looked around.
It wasn't real...
But, somehow, it was. That was a real memory; it had to be. He remembered it all...except for the person with the hazel eyes. But she had been there; he knew she had. When he tried to draw the memory back, it was crystal-clear but for a spot of fuzzy, disjointed darkness, where the power of the In-Between was clouding out what it didn't want him to remember...
Rinoa. The name itself slid far too easily off his tongue to be nothing but a product of Julia's story.
What if Julia HADN'T been lying? What if the girl he loved was in danger, and he was walking away from her, because he no longer believed?
No, Squall told himself. It was a lie. He had to get to the light on the horizon, because...because once he arrived there, once he walked through this place and into that light, everything would come together exactly as it should.
And so he trudged on.
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"Well, well, well." Ultimecia's golden eyes held the glint of triumph as she fixed them, unblinking, upon me. "We are three klever little blind mice, aren't we? But do you remember what happened to the three little blind mice, my little Firefly?"
I swallowed, and braced myself. "Their tails were cut off with a carving knife," I replied, matching her glare and - contrary to any intelligence I might have had - smirking, "but their curiosity killed the cat."
Zell goggled at me. Quistis elbowed me in the gut, as if warning me against any more ballsy answers.
But, against all odds, I was not afraid. Perhaps because I was no longer alone.
And, against all odds, Ultimecia did not seem angry. In fact, she smiled.
"You are something else, you know that, Firefly?"
"That's a unique nickname."
"It isn't a nickname. It is your name, simple as that. It is the birthright of the soul that sleeps inside of you."
O-kay, I thought. This is now getting to be a little weird...
"And this soul that sleeps inside of me," I said slowly, "is who exactly?"
Ultimecia stared at me in surprise. "She is the Firefly." She smiled. "I kan see her in your eyes, though she never looked at me with defiance."
"Her mistake," I muttered.
"Your mistake as well, then," Ultimecia smirked, "for you are, after all, one and the same."
"I'm NOT!" I shouted, standing up, losing my temper. "I'm not this Firefly person! I don't have any idea what you're talking about, okay? Leave it be!"
"You think I expekted this?" Ultimecia snarled through perfect teeth. "You think I wanted this? How very wrong you are...this merely makes you more of an inkonvenience; it simply makes you more of a problem."
I was a problem. I was a threat. I had some power, then, after all.
I stood up, facing off against her. I was going to make her admit it. "Kill me, then," I said, my voice like ice. "If I'm such a bother, why don't you make us both happy and send me to be with Squall?"
Zell gasped behind me; Quistis reached up and clutched my arm.
She surveyed me for a moment, tilting her head. "You foolish little girl." Her long, perfect silver hair swayed around her face. "You really don't understand. And you are nothing like the girl you once were."
"I am Rinoa," I said firmly, trying to make myself believe it, trying to forget the little girl who wore my face in my dreams, "and no one else."
"No, you are the Firefly. You just don't remember yet. But you will; I promise you that."
I was silent.
"But you know," Ultimecia said, "you weren't supposed to happen. Rinoa Heartilly was supposed to happen."
"I am Rinoa Heartilly." I exclaimed, exasperated. "That's what I've been - "
"But you weren't always. You were supposed to be Rinoa Heartilly, and no one else. You were supposed to be nothing but some stupid, insignifikant little human girl. You weren't supposed to be a sorceress, you weren't supposed to be a senshi, and you weren't supposed to have a soul."
"EVERYONE has a soul." I snapped. And what the hell was a senshi?
"Ah," she replied. "That's where you're wrong..."
I blinked. And then I blinked again. And then, just for a little variation, I gaped and blinked at the same time.
"What?" I said weakly.
"Everyone has a kharacter, a heart." Ultimecia looked right into my eyes, and I found I could not look away. "But a soul is a heart with the ability to transcend time. A soul is eternal. You and I, we have souls. When we die, we will be reborn anew. But these two - " she gestured to Quistis and Zell on the floor behind me " – they have no soul. When they die, their spirits will fade away as they travel through the In-Between, and when they reach the Gates of the Light in the west, their spirits will walk through those Gates and fade into nothingness. That is the afterlife – humans, with all their petty wars, find peace only when they do not even exist spiritually."
I could only gawk at her.
She laughed; a light, tinkling sound. "Did you think I had no basis for my skorn of humankind?" She asked. "They are nothing special. They kome, they go, and then they fade away. We are above them; we are eternal. They are not only nothing special; when they die, when they reach the Gates of the Light, they bekome nothing at all."
I drew myself up, ready to argue with her, but her next words crushed me down as no blow could have done.
"Your precious Squall," she said, "is nearing those Gates as we speak."
"No," I whispered, falling to my knees on the floor once again.
"Oh, yes. He has no soul. What differentiated him from all the other little human vermin is about to dissipate and float away. In Heaven, only those who are eternal remain; the others are nothing but aura in the air. He is already dead to you, and very soon he will be dead to those in the underworld as well."
"No," I half-whispered, half-wailed.
"So if you were anticipating being together with your beloved Leonhart in the afterlife," She sneered at me, "then tough luck. As soon as he's through those Gates, even his spirit may as well have never existed."
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Squall stood before The Gates to the underworld. He had finally reached the end of the In-Between – it had been a long journey, but it had been worth it.
He knew, he just KNEW, that once he walked through those Gates, all of his pain would be over, and he would be able to find the tranquility he sought.
The Gates swung open, and the Light poured out; the Light that flooded him with peace, and silence, and the serenity one feels when, after a great ordeal, the chance to lay down all weapons and just go to sleep is offered.
And Squall stepped forward into that Light; that Light that consoled him by promising him the end of forever.
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End of Part 3: Dum-dum-DUM! Will Squall walk through the Gates? How will the face-off between Rinoa and Ultimecia end? Will Squall ever remember?! Find out the answer to at least one of these questions in Chapter 4: The Gates of the Light! (PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES! IMPORTANT!)
Author's notes:
Huston, we have a problem.
I have two fics that are labeled 'projects' inasmuch as they promise to be really, really long, multi-chapter stories. One is entitled The Dying of the Light – that would be the fic you're reading now. The other is a fanfic for the series Ranma ½, entitled After You. After You was placed, temporarily, on hold, so that I could work on The Dying of the Light, which I'm enjoying immensely. So what's the problem?
The problem is, very few others are enjoying this decision.
Allow me to illustrate. The Dying of the Light, right before this chapter, was three posts long and had a total of 17 reviews. That comes out to an average of 5.67 reviews per post.
After You has, so far, five posts. It has a total of 124 reviews. That's an average of 24.8 reviews per post.
I've had 25 emails for my Ranma ½ fanfiction. I've had one (Yay, Aniiston! ^_^) for my Final Fantasy VIII fanfiction.
Do you see where I'm going with this?
I'm having a lot of fun writing The Dying of the Light, and I will keep working on it even if my average drops to one review per chapter. But the focus may switch back to After You – the story that I know people are really enjoying – if The Dying of the Light continues at this rather disappointing pace. I don't care if The Dying of the Light doesn't reach After You, popularity-wise, but the fact that it gets less than a quarter of the reviews that After You does...well, if no one is reading this fic, why should I focus on it?
The most obvious reason is the fact that I'd rather work on it, but After You is a lot of fun, too. So please, if you're reading this, and you're enjoying this story, review – if you want to see more chapters at the speed they've been coming out. Because nothing brings inspiration like the belief that people want to continue reading.
The Dying of the Light won't be abandoned, but if the average doesn't pick up within the next few chapters, it'll be coming out much slower, and After You will be back on top of my To Do pile. Lord knows the death threats from Ranma ½ fans will ease up.
But, for the ten thousandth time: I'd rather work on this. So PLEASE (I'm groveling, here!) REVIEW! You can also email me (nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com is my address, and I do have MSN messenger) or talk to me with AIM (I'm Kuroineko743).
I apologize for throwing such a rant at you, but I've never written a Final Fantasy VIII fic before, and I'm seriously worried that I suck. Plus I'm a little stressed right now. College applications and exams at the same time...well, let's just say: this bites.
Ja ne!
~ nakigoe-chan