Disclaimer: I may own a copy of the game, a copy of the Official Strategy Guide and a couple of action figures, but I don't own-own Final Fantasy VIII. That happy privilege belongs to Square Enix, Hironobu Sakaguchi and Tetsuya Nomura. All I own in this story are the OCs. And unless I'm involved in some bizarre corporate takeover at some point in the future, this disclaimer will remain in effect for the rest of the story.

Author's note: The daughter of Ultimecia may not be a never-before-seen concept, but I always thought she would be an interesting one to write about. It's likely she'd see her mother in a very different light to the one we did. And having seen the happy ending that Squall's time could look forward to, I wanted to explore the world of the future and how it would react to Ultimecia's downfall. So I decided to combine the two plotbunnies and eventually came up with this.

Prologue: Parting of the Ways

Peace. Perhaps the most beautiful word of all. Evocative of a midnight sky glimmering with uncounted stars, or of the earth's cool and quiet after a thunderstorm. Or of a garden in the sunset, where lovers walk hand in hand and sit together by a dancing fountain. Perhaps a thousand different scenes, all quiet, all beautiful. Scenes that cannot be in reality, and thus exist only on canvas and hang on the walls of private galleries, where those who have no peace hope to find some, if only for a moment.

Those like me.

If I look at the painting long enough, I can re-envision myself there, with him. We are the lovers in the garden, walking hand in hand and sitting together by the dancing fountain. In my memories I am a girl again, running with my face towards the setting sun, invigorated with the promise of love and hope. I can feel once again the summer warmth on my skin, the playful breeze, the cool spray of the fountain hitting my hand. More than that, however, I can see once again his eyes, dark and soft and wonderful. I can feel the brief, tender touch of his lips on mine. And I can hear his voice whispering in my ear, whispering a hundred vows and sweet nothings.

But that was all they were. Nothing. Empty.

And now even the beauty of the painting cannot mask the poison of his lies. If I look at the painting, I can re-envision myself there, and for a moment I find the peace I sought. But then the memories return and, like dark paint spreading in water, the bad ones blacken the good.

He is dead now. A part of me died with him. The part that remembered how to forgive, how to feel. I did not mourn their loss; how could I, when it was I that destroyed them? They exist now only in a painting hanging in a lonely room, and in the one thing more precious to me than life itself...

"Mother?"

Shocked out of my reverie, I tear my eyes away from the painting of the evening-lit garden. At the first sound of the voice, my powers bristle, preparing for the intruder, but then I realise that it is nothing more than my daughter, standing nervously in the doorway.

Nothing more than my daughter...

What a horrid turn of phrase. It makes her sound so base, so unimportant. And that could scarcely be further from the truth. That tiny, guileless creature is my greatest reason for living. My only reason for living. Had it not been for her, I would have drowned in my own resentment and self-pity. But she gave me a reason to continue. She was, after all, still growing within me then. If I died, her life would also be forfeit.

I had thought at that time I would be doing her a favour by bringing her into the world. Now I see I was wrong. The world never accepted her; she was condemned because I was her mother. I was forced to steal her away to this forsaken fortress and hide her from the world outside. That world is but a barren wreck of pestilence and cruelty. For her sake, it is better if she never knows it like I had to.

Bringing myself back to the here and now, I attempt a smile for her. It takes several long moments before she returns it. From the expression on her face, I don't think she recognised me at first. And perhaps that is understandable. I had gone out of my way to make sure that my appearance for my guests tonight would befit an empress. They will fear and revere me soon enough.

"Alynna?" I say. "Why are you here? It is almost midnight."

I listen to myself, rebuking her gently as I did when she was just a child. Looking at her now, she is seventeen years old, passing through the final stages of adolescence, almost an adult woman. Yet how can I see her as anything but my little girl?

She replies softly, "I... I came to wish you goodnight."

I descend the stairs and take her in my arms, feeling the delicacy of her bones beneath my hands. She feels like a daisy chain, too slender and fragile to touch properly in case she breaks. She reminds me of myself when I was her age. She will have better fortune than I, however. I know because I have planned it carefully, down to the tiniest detail.

A heavy weight settles over my heart, knowing that this is to be the last time we meet. Of course, she does not know, nor does she have to. Very soon, this cycle of pain and bitterness will have reached its long overdue end, lost in the vacuum of time and space.

For you, my daughter.

This world was never meant for something as beautiful as her. Soon, she will be free from the shackles that bind her to this mortal plane. I shall bear the burden of living so she can be free. As soon as I have seen off our guests, my plan will be put into effect.

It took me years to finally master my powers' true potential, but now that I have, I can use it to wipe away all the cruelty and free my daughter, whilst I shall endure the misery of existence alone. To some my plan may sound extreme, evil even, but they obviously never suffered as I did. All I can do now is ensure that my daughter, my only light in a world full of darkness, can never be exposed to the barbarity that I was.

I kiss her lightly on the forehead. Now that the moment of parting is upon us, I find it even harder to let her go. But I must. It is for her, after all, that I do this.

I hold her shoulders and look into her eyes, dark and soft and wonderful. Her father's eyes. It never ceases to amaze me how something as contemptible as he could have caused something so wonderful.

"Mother..."

"Hush." I place a finger over her lips. My voice drops, low and urgent. "Alynna, I am expecting some visitors to the castle tonight. Whatever happens and whatever you may see or hear, you must remain hidden. Put yourself somewhere where they will not find you. Do you understand?"

She looks like she doesn't, but she nods her head nevertheless. "Yes, Mother. But -"

"No 'buts', my darling. Just promise me that whatever happens, you will never let them find you. Promise me that you will never fall into their clutches."

"Mother, what are you -?"

"Promise me, Alynna."

She looks taken aback by the sharpness of my voice. It startled me, too. But I need to know. I need her to promise me. Her final duty as my daughter.

Finally she nods again, and her eyes are earnest, if uncomprehending. "Yes, Mother. I promise."