Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Ghost ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Disclaimer: Don't own any of the healing items/ summons/ jobs, those are Squaresofts. This is non-profit fun.

The wind cried a high pitched squeal as it dove down on the hard dirt, tearing away loose sands in its wake. There they: stood two men in the middle of an arena. Its high walls were straight and metallic, leaving only the blue cloudless sky visible above them. The wind blew again, tousling each man's hair gently as they stared at each other.

The man to the right stood tall in his flagrant clothing, a black mesh tank that stops around the ribcage of his gangly physique and some baggy green fatigues. He adorned himself with chains and a large steel hoop resided in his nose like a ring in a bull's nose. His hair stuck out in red spikes and black make up encircled his eyes. The only thing that stood out, was two large metal wristbands on his arms, small multi-colored lights blinked in various places on the bands.

To the left a man slightly shorter then the other, lightly tan with short scruffy white hair and startling red eyes. His body: tone and slightly muscular, wearing a dark gray tee shirt, tightly fitting faded black jeans, and a black ammunitions vest with its collar upturned. His boyish face remained emotionless as his opponent gave a cocky grin.

Somewhere a green light flashed and suddenly the sound of a generator started up. The tall man's wristbands began to glow as his hands shot out in front of him. The shorter man took off running as charred fiery rock after charred fiery rock pummeled the ground behind him.

"Where you running too?" The one with red hair cried, muffled horribly by the rapid fire. Finally nicking the heel of the other man's foot. The white haired youth stumbled forward quickly saving himself in a dive roll. He came out of the roll on bent knee at any moment he would shoot up and begin the mad dash again, but to his dismay his opponent had ensnared him. Encircling him in a ring of the fiery boulders, flames to high to jump over and the boulders to close together to roll in between.

"Oh man, I can't believe you fell for that! Didn't you see it was a trap?" Red taunted, "No? It's because you're a fake and after today everyone will see that." With a serious glint in his eyes he lifting his hands in the air, a glowing mass of fire and rock melted together shortly above his open palms forming one giant fiery boulder. The youth said something, his opponent only seeing his lips move not hearing what he said. "Good, pray. You'll need it after I'm done with you! HAHAHA!" Red laughed closing his eyes as he readied his weapon, when he opened them his target was no longer in his fiery cage, but there stood a tall cerulean creature feminine in appearance.

A light airy clothe wrapped loosely around parts of her figure, her dark blue hair in a tight bun with a jeweled ornament encasing her head, letting a large crystal dangle gently on her forehead. However her eyes were the most startling, gray blue with ice blue pupils, pupils that were not round but in cracks that clustered in the center. Red cursed under his breath knowing what his target had done with his 'prayer'.

Azure crystalline ice etched itself across the area around the female, slowly creeping over the fiery rocks with little difficulty as Red ran as fast and as far as he could. The female toe touched on the surface of the ice and suddenly the creeping ice stopped. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, bringing both hands together in a loud clap. It echoed for a moment in the ears of those who could hear it, followed by another sound: the cracking of ice. Red continued to run as a barrage of sharp icicles carried on a heavy wind lifted him into the air, slicing him everywhere but his back which took the brunt of the hit. He was tossed a yard away, bloody and dirty, his mesh shirt nothing more then a ragged collar.

The female disappeared and in its stead stood the white headed youth. Calmly he walked towards the bloody heap of his opponent. The victim stirred, making the healthy youth stop in his tracks and watch. Slowly getting to his feet, a computer generated voice sounded from his right wristband, " Left M.A.G. unit damaged, Spell efficiency at 50%. Advance unit spells rendered inoperable."

A cold dark glare appeared in the man's eyes, the white headed youth's face remained unchanging from its stoic norm. "To hell with this! You're a dead man now!" Red screamed charging forward, a rock with large spikes formed over his right hand. He swung at his opponent with a diagonal swish of the brutal weapon, only to fail to a sidestepping dodge. The youth gave a hard kick to his attackers exposed kidneys.

"AH!" Red screamed at the sharp pain falling to his knees. Looking stunned while the soft footfalls of his opponent neared. The spiky fiend swung his rocky weapon when the youth was close enough. The weapon ripped the youth's shirt as he jumped back. Wasting no time Red shot up and started swinging chaotically at the shorter man. His eyes wild with hatred and rage, blinded as the youth ducked under his swing and grabbed the hostile arm stopping its violence.

Both hands holding the wrist of the attacker above his head the youth kicked the shocked man's ribcage ruthlessly. With each painful cry Red sunk a little lower. Finally the white headed young man let go of Red's arm, letting the man just about sink to his knees. He looked the pathetic man over, then suddenly the back of his heel hit the base of Red's neck in one well-placed roundhouse kick. Red fell face first into the dirt and went limp. Somewhere a light flashed red.

The victor walked calmly towards him and slipped his foot under the heap kicking him over onto his back. Then the white headed youth placed the heel of his boot gently on his victim's throat; he could hear Red's breathing change to choked wheezing and gurgles as he applied pressure to it.

A light beep sounded in the arena, a female voice rung through intercom, "Ashen, the test is over."

However, the youth continued to apply more pressure to his victims' throat.

"Ashen! The test is now over, desist immediately," the voice reiterated in a firmer tone. Ashen finally complied slowly taking his foot off his victims' neck then stuffing his gloved hands into his pockets. He walked away from the tattered heap without even a second look.

A frantic medic squad passed by Ashen as he walked into the white metallic hallway; he paid no attention to them as they chattered loudly about the injury severity of 9-ner aka Red. All the frantic sounds stopped as he entered the elevator, "Destination please?" said the computer.

"Special Unit Living Quarters… and you?" Ashen addressed the tall thin man in the corner of the elevator.

"Executive offices," he said in a deep voice.

"Destination confirmed, one moment please…" the computer said. Moments later the soft hum of the elevator filled their ears. The man in the corner was dressed in a sharp three-piece black suit; a crimson silk tie hung from his neck. He was an older man, slick back short salt and pepper hair, beady gray eyes, wrinkled pale skin on his regal face. He finally broke the long silence, "You almost killed him, you do know that, don't you?"

"I thought I was doing you a favor…" Ashen stated calmly, he glancing at the man from the corner of his eye, "…he talked too much."

The older gentleman's lips curled into a slight grin, "Well, despite your unnecessary roughness… the Ghri has decided to send us more funds."

"Congratulations…" Ashen replied in a monotone voice.

The elevator slowed to a stop and a light beep signaled as the doors slid open. "Special Unit Living Quarters… Please watch your step," the computer spoke.

"Excuse me, Director Meth…this is my stop," He told the man in the same tone.

"Of course Ashen…" Said Director Meth as Ashen exited the elevator.