Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Intimate Edges ❯ A Dark and Stormy Flight ( Chapter 1 )

Intimate Edges: An FF8 Fan Fiction

Chapter One: A Dark and Stormy Flight

The darkness weighed oppressively on the thick forest, like a heavy blanket drawn across the prone form of the deceased. Indeed, this was not far from the truth, for the forest seemed all but dead. No moonlight penetrated its canopy to illuminate the twig-strewn ground, and no wind whistled through the leafless branches. Not a single owl or cricket interrupted the fearful silence with their nocturnal songs. Even the smell that hung in the air was laced with the sickly sweet odor of decay. The forest was like a coffin that once held a body but had been robbed of its charge, leaving behind only the empty shell of death.

Through this shadowy, wooded labyrinth there wound a single path, so faint and narrow that it was hardly deserving of the name. It was the only part of the forest floor not completely obscured by thorny overgrowth, a thread of passage twisting through the darkness like a lifeline to the world outside. No foot had tread on its wandering way for many years; no horse's hoof had raised dust along its ancient length. Not even outlaws had ventured inside to elude reprisal for their crimes, for no one, even the dregs of society, went into the forest. Its sinister appearance gave rise to tales of evil spirits and nefarious demons that lurked in its inner recesses, none of which were completely true. The result, however, was that no living being had set foot in the forest for nigh on one hundred years.

At the northern edge of the forest, where the path began its sinuous trek, the Timekeeper stood resting, gasping for breath. She panted heavily, one hand resting on a black, gnarled tree for support as she regained her composure. Gradually, her breathing became normal and her heartbeat returned to its regular rhythm. She took a deep breath and expelled it in relief. Standing up straight, she stretched her arms and legs gingerly, as if she had been running a long period without respite. Gently massaging her aching muscles, she turned to look north, the way she had come from. The land that way was mountainous and hilly, with barely a flat spot anywhere and no valleys.

The moon burst from behind the clouds, lighting the panorama before her with a silvery glow. There was no movement anywhere on the craggy stone hillocks, no noises, no campfire glows. Heaving a triumphant sigh, the Timekeeper drew back the hood that shrouded her face as she continued to scan the landscape. She wanted to take no chances this night. Her sharp eyes, an unusual shade of storm-cloud grey, missed no detail. Mistakes were not affordable. She stood there, a silent sentinel in the moonlight, unmoving, for nearly half an hour, watching.

At last she stirred from her vigil, seemingly satisfied. She drew the hood back over her head and moved into the partial shelter of the forest's first trees as a light rain began to fall. She sat beneath a particularly large tree and curled into a ball. The adrenaline rush of the night's adventures suddenly left her, and she began to shiver uncontrollably. The rain increased in strength and lightning crackled across the sky, thunder rumbling in its wake. The air cooled abruptly, but the Timekeeper didn't notice. Some time passed in this way as the storm raged overhead, but she was so absorbed in her own thoughts that neither time nor the unnatural, increasing cold registered with her.

Presently, the Timekeeper nodded wearily to herself, as if she had come to a difficult decision. She breathed heavily in resignation, and so cold had it become that her breath became visible, smoky and misty before her. Suddenly, as if coming out of a daze, the Timekeeper stood bolt upright, flakes of frost flying off of her. The strange cold weighed down on her, enveloping her, trying to smother her. Panic clawed its way up her throat. She shook her head from side to side and gestured wildly with her arms, as if trying to ward off a wild animal's attack. Then, in a split second, self-control returned. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and held forth her right hand, fingers outstretched. Reaching down into her inner being, she drew forth the power that was hers by birthright. A high-pitched squeal suffused her, drowning out the raging lightning over head.

The chill air that hung still and immovable over her shattered like a crystal goblet being knocked to the floor. The Timekeeper stood straighter, a great weight lifted from her shoulders. But instead of relief she felt blind terror. Her eyes wide with fear, she turned her gaze back to the stone hills. A huge crack of lightning ripped the sky asunder, and for a moment the night was as bright as day. In that instant, the girl saw a figure, all in black, with a great cape drawn around him. He held a huge gleaming sword, twice as long as himself, high in the air. He was mounted atop a great war horse, and on his head he wore a massive horned battle helm.

"Odin," she breathed.

The lightning flash was suddenly gone, and simultaneously the moon was blanketed with clouds, plunging the world into rainy darkness. The Timekeeper's heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest. Her fists were clenched, her knuckles white. Her face was drained of all color, pale with horror. She was waiting, waiting for another lightning flash to confirm what she thought she'd seen. Abruptly, lightning struck again, bathing the hills in its electric glow, but the mounted warrior was gone. Disappeared.

Sobbing in terror, Ellone, the Timekeeper, spun wildly and flung herself headlong into the forest, down the winding path, running as if demons were on her heels. Odin was on her trail once more, and there would be no rest for her this night. Fleeing for her very life, she vanished into the dank shadows of the wood.