AUTHORS NOTE - Long time coming I know. Apparently I didn't know where I was going, and it is only thanks to the snow and insomnia that this horrid cliche I seem to be writing has gone any further. Well it was either that or delete it. Why is it so hard to destroy the things you create? Thats my though for the evening anyway...
DISCLAIMER - Squaresoft own Final Fantasy VIII. I just borrowed them.
Chapter 5
The bar was quiet tonight. Not that it could ever be considered a hot bed of activity, but still. It was quiet.
The weather was to blame. The only thing harsher than the work around here was the weather at this time of year. It was the weather that had kept the patrons at home tonight, warm in front of their fires. Leaving only the barman, known to everyone as Pops, behind the bar polishing glasses and Seifer in the place.
Seifer was sat at a table near the large open fire, the play of the flames casting shadows on the walls of the dimly lit room. Out of the window through which he had been peering for quite some time snow softly fell. Though in all likely hood it would soon work its way into a full blown storm.
For now however it was calm. And serene. Unlike snow in the cities. or even in the sleepy town of Balamb where Seifer had spent much of his youth. Here is was peaceful and serene. Pristine and unblemished. Just the tonic that Seifer needed to calm his racing mind, now that the liquor was no longer doing it for him.
This should not lead you to the conclusion that he was over sentimental in nature, despite the fact that his heart and core had been through the ringer in years not so long past. But rather the snow provided something for him to lose himself in. Something that could be so engrossing and yet require no mental exertion at all.
For Seifer had discovered what Squall had learnt so many years ago. The only way to stop the pain was to stop all feeling. To stop the racing of his mind, his heart first had to become as cold, and as barren and yet as calm as the snow just outside the window.
As Seifer sat and stared the snow began to fall heavier, just as could have been predicted by those with more experience of this regions climate than he. And as the weather grew more violent that calm that had begun to descend over him also began to slip away.
Something was going to happen. Something was coming. He was in danger from this something. But what could it be? What could possibly pose such a threat as to make his heart pound so.
Suddenly the door of the bar flew open, the wind from outside blowing it into the wall with force. On this wind also came the snow, which surrounded the occupant of the opening.
The person was bent double. Hair stuck to his face. Snow on the collar of his coat. A blade dragging behind him. An aura of defeat surrounded him. And a look of ice was in his eyes...