Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ A Heros Destiny ❯ The beginning ( Prologue )

Prologue

A young man of eighteen strode along the vast hallway, his heavy boots clicking on the floor. With every long stride, his long black overcoat trailed behind him. His presence was hard to ignore, dark, cold. Intense brown eyes stared in front of him, narrowed and unblinking. He walked with a cat-like grace that sent shivers down onlooker's spines.

Moonlight poured through the windows on the left side of the hallway, illuminating his wispy brown hair aswell as his broad shoulders in the waves of smoky light. He held his chin high with powerful pride.

His hand caressed the smooth handle of his blade that hung from his equipment belt; it's point mere inches off the ground. The sword was a light red colour, while the handle was black. He always marvelled at the beauty of it.

The hallway turned sharply to the right and came to an end where two soldiers stood guarding the heavy oak door that beard the mark of the Sorceress. Two swords criss-crossed and what looked like a fire dragon that wrapped its body up the blades. The soldiers stood to attention as they saw his figure move towards them.

"State your business", the first soldier said.

"I am Lane Krawford. I am here to see Sorceress Krista on urgent matters", Lane said in an expressionless tone of voice. His gaze was fixed on the soldier, immediately making him uncomfortable. The soldier started to fidget. He knew who Lane was; he could destroy armies of men with one strike of his sword. Two was no match…

"The sorceress has not yet returned" The second soldier said, his voice wavering slightly. Anger flashed in Lane's eyes.

"No matter, I will wait inside" he said with a tone that obviously meant: `Don't mess with me' tone. The soldiers looked at each other for a moment then nodded.

They slid the doors back for him to pass. Once he was alone, he gazed around the room in silent awe. To the left of him was a huge painting of what he presumed was the immortal guardian force, Ignesious. A fire god that had unlimited powers and no one could posses the immortal one. This knight in flaming armour with the wings of the Phoenix has never been fused to anyone since the great leader, Hyne.

"Lane" came a silky voice from behind him. He jumped in surprise, whirling around he set his gaze on the sorceress. The sorceress had long black hair framing her white china face. He bowed, kneeling on the floor one leg in front and stared down at the red carpet.

"Rise" came the icy voice. He rose without a second thought. She slowly walked over to where he was standing. Her long dress made of red, black and gold fabric trailed behind her effortlessly. She looked like she was floating on air… he shook the thought immediately.

He watched her crimson lips as she spoke, "Have you terminated the one named Elijah?" She asked him.

A smirk graced his lips, "I have"

~~~~~~~~~~~Flash back~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was in slow motion. The swords struck like thunder, earning sparks that flew in the air, illuminating the two fighters faces. Their features were etched with concentration and hatred for the other. Sweat broke across Lane's brow as the fight became more intense. He knew Elijah couldn't keep this up for much longer. The blood pounded in his temples. Lane landed such vicious blows on Elijah, that Elijah couldn't attack him back. Lane twisted the swords up in the air, sending Elijah's spiralling out of reach. His eyes met Lane's cobalt blue ones once again.

I am the black wings that send you to your demise, Elijah, and I'll do it with a song in my heart.

Slowly Lane rested the swords point at his enemy's stomach. Anger and remorse rested in the arms of death.

Elijah stood frozen with fear as he watched Lane draw back his blade and thrust it into his gut. He doubled over and let out an agonizing cry that made Lane flinch as if he had been hit. He withdrew the blade and Elijah fell to his knees, holding his stomach. He looked at his trembling hands that were now red with blood. He gritted his teeth and stared at Lane and the group of soldiers that were now crowding round, staring at him with awe.

"Kill me…kill me damn it!" He managed to yell.

"Finish what you have started" Lane took in his death wish with laboured thought.

"No" he said which was barely audible over the sound of the rain that started. "I want you to suffer. I want to make an example of you, half ling. No one escapes from Krysta. No one" He growled. With that he signalled for the soldiers to follow and left Elijah to wither in pain. He gave a hoarse groan and crumpled to the floor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of flash back~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good" a shadow of a grin appears on her pale face.

"And Imani?" she said turning to face him. He gritted his teeth from the sudden rise of anger.

"She had already left when we got there."

"Elijah taught her better than I originally thought. No matter, I will teach you how to attain the girl."

Krysta held out her hand, palm upwards, towards him. A spot of white light appeared an inch above her delicate palm. It gradually grew to the size of a fifty pence piece ant turned blood red. The light danced on their faces.

"What is that?" Lane asked, staring at the orb with amused suspicion.

"This is your gift. The power to attain the girl and fight Squall with."

"This little thing?" Lane asked with obvious disappointment. Though he tried to hide it. Krysta was powerful, he didn't know her limits…

"Pick it up," She said, daring him with a cat like smile. Lane looked at her hand, at her, at her hand again. "Go on" she whispered.

Lane reached over with his right hand and picked up the ball. Immediately he dropped the ball back into her hand, fighting the grunt of pain that rose to his throat. "It's hot!"

The sorceress smiled "I t burns with powerful energy you have not yet learned to control. With time it will grow inside of you. Your source of power. I will teach you"

Lane looked at his index finger and thumb, they already began to blister and hurt like a sonovabitch. `Damn. My blade hand too'

With a touch of a finger to his chin, Krysta brought Lane's face inches from her own. Lane heart pounded in his chest. "I don't want you to touch that girl, so much as a scratch on her…" she let her sentence trail off.

"I-I understand" Lane croaked. She let go of him.

"I'm glad to hear of it," she said turning away from him and facing the dragon. The wall rippled like thick oil as she reached out a hand and passed through it. When she was gone the wall returned to normal solid wood.

He stares at the painting one last time. "Morgan, this time I promise… I will kill you

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TBC

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