Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Iced Flames ❯ Scarred Innocence ( Prologue )

A/N: Yay! I revised the first part :D I just don't know how it turned out… O.o;

-Jameta

Iced Flames

Prologue: Scarred Innocence…

Through the lush, green river brush, a small, blue-hued pyrefly swims through the night air, its motions choppy and undecided. As it quivers down to the beds of drifting flowers, another orb drifts hesitantly toward its direction, the new pyrefly's tint a dark crimson. Nervously, the glowing spheres float slowly about each other; suddenly, the red one circles the azure and rests closely in front of it. A flush of color engulfs the first, seeming to blush, before it whips about its companions. Together, the pyreflies fall through the branches of vegetation, gliding softly over the bank to an unclaimed Moon Lilly. The pair rests easily among the petals while adding their light to the sea of stars. Soft ripples from a distant wading shoopuf gently lift and lower the floating array of glowing brilliance.

Beside the flower, the blurred reflection of a young female child stares off into the black liquid body. The mirror image is suddenly shattered by a rock being tossed lazily in as a heavy sigh escapes the child. She rocks back and stretches her small, auburn body on a boulder, lengthy midnight locks piling on the soft grass below her oval head. The lights of the heavens glimmer joyfully back at the odd little creature despite her scowl and exasperated air.

A rustling from behind draws up her extensive, pointed ears, and she quickly rolls onto a pair of clawed hands and a set of slender, Ronso-like feet. Muscles taut, head low, and breathing slowed, she waits for the intruder to appear. The rustling transforms into a disarrayed pattern of snaps and crunches from the upper riverside foliage; dropping an elbow, she slants herself slightly, nervousness setting in as she stares up the hill. Louder and louder the cracks become, the indefinite being coming ever closer.

Then, it stops.

Slipping back into her sitting position, the girl huffs in annoyance and turns back to face the Moon Flow. With agitation etched deeper into her frown, she lays back her ears and hugs her knees to her faded, tattered top.

Without warning, a diminutive figure tumbles down from the rise's brush, causing her to fall off the rock. As she scrambles back onto her place, muffled weeping ripples through the silent atmosphere and upsets her sensitive hearing. A male Guado of eight years steadily stands, his knees shaking and rich garments doused in mud and debris.

"F'jes wy iyu fels, Yevonite?" darkly hisses the girl, causing the boy to jump back. His bottom lip quivers as his iridescent blue eyes stare fearfully at the strange individual, her ears laid back. After a few moments, she turns her back on him and finishes climbing up the boulder, annoyed with the whole situation.

Cautiously, the boy continues forward, wiping his dirt-covered face and salty tears on an elegant purple sleeve. With a snort, the girl pays no attention to his advance, her gaze falling back to the water. The pyreflies flicker in no particular fashion; in a brilliant streak, a glowing orb streaks across the river and past her shoulder. Tearing her eyes away from the racing orb's trajectory, her stare falls directly into a set of cobalt eyes. She yelps in surprise and falls backwards, landing hard upon her rear.

"Owoys… gewa ga ey k'dymm-aiaw…" grumbles the fallen child as she rubs her tailbone, then glares irately at the other.

"You're…" begins his soft voice, puzzlement filling his ashen face, "not an Al Bhed. You're… fuzzy and brown. And your eyes… they're not swirled and green… they're… dark red…"

A small smile creeps onto his pastel lips.

"What is your name? Where are you from? Why are you here?" he starts, rambling off questions without letting her answer. "How did you get here? Why are your clothes all brown and floppy instead of colorful and decorated? Are you all alone?"

The other being merely snorts and cocks her head, unable to understand anything he just said.

Sighing, the boy extends a hand out to her, showing no prejudice toward the odd maiden that society harshly would. She raises a fine eyebrow at first, but then tightly grasps his palm, signaling for him to pull. After she rises to her feet, their gazes rest on the other, the distance between them short.

"Your eyes…" he murmurs, a bit entranced by his acquaintance, "They're really… pretty."

"Hnnnnnnn…" she muses with ennui; her eyes study him for a moment, then she hints smile, proceeding to point at him. "Guado."

"Oh!" he exclaims, surprised that she can partially communicate with him; he places his hands upon his chest, nodding his head. "Guado."

His companion smirks, then straightens a finger toward herself, "Adema," she pauses, moving a hand across her face, "Thyme Adema."

"Seymour Guado," replies the other, bowing gracefully. A stream of girlish laughter answers him, and he quickly stands.

"What?!" he demands while folding his arms, forgetting that she doesn't understand his tongue.

The other stands with her arms folded, her head snapped to the side. Following her irritated gaze, the Spiran elf sights a trio of russet-furred girls residing in the low branches of a towering willow, their hind paws swaying back and forth.

"Thyme om fosj e tyi," laughs one with gleaming violet eyes.

"S'jai fada nommolc!" another squeals, cedar spikes bouncing in her face.

"F'ji wy s'jym gydylm naap ryhhyfolc ga?" Thyme mutters through her curved fingers before glowering up at them. "F'jes wy iyu fels?!"

"Thyme, iyu eda my ms'delca," continues an Adema with a short jade mane.

"Jynw iyud sylcua," Thyme growls, dropping her arms and taking a step forward.

"Iam!" continues the first, ignoring the order. "Or lys wyolc elr faedolc rageha s'jolct dem lys faodr, honolc e Guado om!"

"M'JUS-UP!" she cries and bolts toward the group, causing the other girls to scatter amongst the wood. As she prepares to turn and bound after them, she slips upon her overgrown tail and skids face-forward in the wet, cold mud. Hot tears trickle down her dirt-speckled and matted cheeks while laughter echoes from the trees, and she struggles to stand; a white palm rests upon her round shoulder.

"Let them go," Seymour states gently, dusting her front off with his other hand. The Adema shoves him away before dashing back down to the edge of the river.

"Hey, wait!" Seymour yells, and runs after her. When the young lord reaches his companion, she is kneeling on the beach, washing her face and paws. Quietly, he paces over to her side and sits down. His cerulean eyes study her with intense curiosity; so many questions fill his adolescent mind, but just watching her contents him. As she finishes cleansing, the boy reaches over and dries her face carefully with his long sleeve. A guttural growl is the surprised figure's thanks, but he pays it no mind and draws her close.

"I wish I could understand what you say better," he murmurs while resting his head on hers. "There are so many things I want to ask and tell you…"

An easy sigh escapes him as the little Guado squeezes the Adema slightly, unable to express his emotions in words.

"Os om… p'dasi…" sighs Thyme, staring out over the glowing Moon Flow.

"'P'dasi…?" Seymour repeats, looking at her questioningly. The Adema nods, her arm creating a slow, sweeping gesture in the direction of the clustered pyreflies.

"Thyme p'dasi…" he whispers to her. Carefully, he drops his face toward hers and delicately plants a kiss on her dark, velvety cheek. A flush rises to her face from under the auburn fuzz; she lifts an elaborate chain about her waist over her torso and head before draping it around his neck.

"Seymour," she breathes, "iyu eda-"

"Thyme!" calls a deep voice from afar.

"Wegl…" the girl curses before quickly standing and bowing to him. "Rydcoxaga."

With that, she bolts into the forest, gaining ground rapidly. The young lord desperately attempts to follow, but gives up when all he can hear is his own movements through the eerily still woods. A crystal drop trickles down his pale cheek, a trembling hand taking the ornate strand of the Adema's gift and gripping it tightly.

"Please… come back…" he whispers, streams of grief reforming, "I… I need a friend…"

"Don't leave me like Mother did…"

---------

A placid palm cradles the vibrant falling cord, while a slow exhale of sorrow is whispered to the object he has kept close to his heart for more than a decade.

"Please… come back…" repeats Seymour, now a youth of eighteen and aspiring monk of the Yevon faith. High Summoner Braska and his guardians, Sir Auron and Jecht, have defeated the bringer of death, Sin, and all of Spira now rejoices at the arrival of the Calm…

"…I'm still here, waiting for you, my Thyme."

All, except for a lonely heart.

To Be Continued…

A/N: Minor note: The prologue is not over. ;P Basically, this is a past Seymour having a flashback. A bit confusing, but I believe I adds to the storyt. ^_^ And below is the translation of Adema dialogue for people who really don't' want to waitfor me to type of the new Adema-English Translation page x.x

F'jes wy iyu fels, Yevonite? = What do you want, Yevonite?

Owoys… gewa ga ey k'dymm-aiaw… = Idiot… made me go cross-eyed…

Thyme om fosj e tyi = Thyme is with a boy

S'jai fada nommolc! = They were kissing!

F'ji wy s'jym gydylm naap ryhhyfolc ga? F'jes wy iyu fels?! = Why do those morons keep following me? What do you want?!

Thyme, iyu eda my ms'delca = Thyme, you are so strange

Jynw iyud sylcua = Hold your tongue

Iam! Or lys wyolc elr faedolc rageha s'jolct dem lys faodr, honolc e Guado om! = Yes! If not doing and wearing female things was not weird, liking a Guado is!

M'JUS-UP! = SHUT-UP!

Os om… p'dasi…= It is… pretty…

iyu eda - = you are-

Wegl… Rydcoxa ga = Damn… Forgive me