By Gen X
Prologue: The Promise
A warm breeze blew past the couple and into the field of flowers before them. The ocean wind swirled around the delicate petals as it plucked them from their stems and lifted them high into the air. The two figures watched wordlessly as the flowers spun and twirled in an intimate, sensual dance. Beyond the field, the sun had started to dip into the horizon. As it set, rich shades of reds and oranges bled into the sky. In that instant, the world seemed to stop.
She leaned closer to him, needing his presence like a drug. The wind continued to whirl, and it came as little surprise when it began to play with the dark strands of her hair. The wind lifted them away from her face, and let the sunshine upon her delicate features. She turned swiftly from the light and buried her face in the shoulder of his jacket. He watched; then drew her closer, as if he never wanted to let go. His shadow cast itself upon her, protecting her from the harsh dying light. She shut her eyes tightly, not wanting the moment to pass.
When she finally opened her eyes, the sun had set. Yet, the wind still continued to play around them. The pink petals continued to dance about. A single petal landed in her palm. Quickly, she closed her hand around it, not wanting to let it go. She could feel his warm presence around her, making her feel safe. "I'll be here," he said, looking out into the field.
She nodded, still nestled more snugly against him. She opened her hand to give him a hug and in doing so, she freed the delicate petal. It fell away and drifted silently towards the earth. The wind stopped its decent, wrapping around it and lifting it high in the air. The couple looked skyward, and they watched as white feathers began to dance with the flowers.
This was their moment in time, and it would last forever.
Chapter One: A Rivalry Most Dangerous
Seifer Almasy's mouth drew up in a snarl, as he advanced on his opponent. His weapon was a complex gun blade, its name was not only an accurate description, but in his hands as imposing as its name. The steel blade was almost two feet but instead of a normal grip, a handle for an automatic revolver lay in its hilt. The gun blade wasn't an easy weapon to master, but Seifer had never had a problem managing it. He leveled the blade, as the opposing party advanced, and effectively deflected the blow away from his body.
Opposite of Seifer, Squall Leonhart struck an offensive pose. His feet shuffled along the harsh stone, losing little purchase despite the driving rain. Although he was younger than Seifer (by nearly a year), he had no problem holding his own. Squall paired another blow, then advanced.
Seifer twisted away as Squall's own gun blade cut vertically through the place he had just been standing. Had they not been sparring, it would have been the ideal moment to fire the gun. Nevertheless, Seifer used his own momentum to slam the butt of the gun into Squall's back. The younger man stumbled forward, but recovered fairly quickly. Unfortunately for him, Seifer had already spun around again. He brought his gun blade to bear, and the two swords met. Taking advantage of his opponent's disorientation, Seifer forced the blade down until the hilts touched, then twisted his blade up savagely.
Squall's weapon was wrenched from his grasp and sent it high into the air. It spun through the air gracefully until gravity grabbed hold of it and sent it tumbling back to earth. The thunder roared overhead, and the clouds above continued to darken. The blade embedded itself into the ground just as lightning cracked in the distance as if on cue.
Seifer took a defensive position and watched as Squall's expression darkened ever so slightly. The edge of Seifer's mouth curled up in amusement. Squall's footfalls echoed as he rushed forward. Seifer drew back a few steps, then charged forward to meet his rival. Squall plucked up his blade as he passed and brought it crashing against Seifer's own without pause. Squall broke the stalemate, only to swing wildly. His blade sliced through the air, much to his disadvantage.
Seifer swung his weapon away from his body in an outlandish gesture. He smiled, a slightly sardonic grin, then beckoned Squall mockingly with his left hand. Not one to disappoint, Squall retaliated with short thrusts; he then switched tactics brought his gun blade crashing down atop Seifer in a vicious overhead strike. Seifer stumbled back ever so slightly, but the movement was not lost on either player. Squall pressed his advantage and quickly feinted, then attacked. The fury of blows was more than enough to overwhelm Seifer and the older man had to break away to recover.
Angry at being shown up, a fury boiled in Seifer as he attacked with brute strength. His rage showed in his swing, as he sliced nothing but thin air. Where had Squall gone? Seifer whirled around looking for his opponent. Squall stood to his right, where he had dodged out of the way. Squall brought his blade to bear, and ran at Seifer, as if intent on impaling him.
Seifer raised his hand as if to ward off the attack, but that was not his intent. Slowly, his palm began to glow until fire collected and burned just increments away from his hand. Despite the intense heat, there was no discernable blistering or scarring on Seifer's hand. He allowed the flame to burn until he began to feel the just the tiniest amount of warmth. Squall would be upon him any second, he didn't have time to waste. Seifer flexed his hand and the ball of fire shot forward. It struck Squall directly in the chest and caused him to stumble back.
Seifer stepped towards Squall, who was now on his haunches. Squall watched, almost frozen, as Seifer's blade flashed across his face. Before it the strike had finished, blood had already started dripping upon the ground. The crimson liquid fell to the stone but the rain covered the soft splattering sound it made. Somehow, throughout everything, Squall's blade remained firmly in his grasp.
Newly driven, as well as injured, Squall rose. Sparks flew into the air as Squall dragged his blade along the harsh rock. He held it in a bare knuckled, two-handed grip. The blade swung up from beside Squall's left foot and finished its arc over his left shoulder. In doing so, it sliced Seifer's face, giving him a cruel mirror injury to the one Squall had just received.
Squall stepped back again; his rage had calmed somewhat. The blood freely flowed down his face. The warm blood trickled down his face and began to mar his vision. Lightning cracked overhead, and he looked up abruptly at the lighted sky. Then the sky fell into darkness, and moments afterwards, darkness was all he knew.
Dr. Kadowski sighed as she glanced up at the sleeping figure.
.to be continued.