Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Intimate Edges ❯ Song of Swords ( Chapter 2 )

Intimate Edges: An FF8 Fan Fiction

Chapter Two: Song of Swords

Headmistress Edea stood by the rail of Balamb Garden's highest balcony, surveying her domain. To the east, the sun's first edge was beginning to illuminate the dark stillness of the night. Everywhere she looked, she saw all the reassuring signs that her realm was normal, at peace: instructors making their dawn rounds, SeeDs preparing for missions, cadets going about their morning exercises. Beyond the Garden, she saw the faint smoke trails rising from the chimneys of Balamb Town, its citizens stirring to life.

Yet all was not right. A sense of foreboding gripped her more intensely than had any emotion in a long time. She could not see it yet, could not discern its source, yet the warning was there. Normally, as the de facto leader of Garden, she utilized a noble intuition that gave her the edge over the unexpected. Whenever she sought to do something or have a question answered, this inborn feeling would point her decision in the right direction; it was almost a residue of the magic she commanded. She could feel uneasy, or assured, or skeptical, depending on how her instincts were flowing.

Now, in the first moments of the dawn, she felt inexplicably alarmed.

Really, Edea thought scathingly, I'm letting my imagination get the better of me. Usually she put great stock in her instincts, but this morning was an exception. Today, it was exactly a year since Cid had relinquished control of Balamb Garden to her, a year since Ultimecia had been vanquished. At first, she had been reluctant to assume the burden, but her husband had been insistent. "I don't have the strength to lead them anymore," the older man had said, the faint rattle of a cold beginning in his chest. Edea had held him then, accepting his request, and pitying him; because of the sorceress power inside her, she would see many more decades, but Cid's time on the earth was numbered. Thinking of that conversation, not so long ago, made her think of Cid's death. Maybe that was why she felt so ill at ease.

But then again, maybe it wasn't.

A chill wind blew across the balcony, causing her to tighten her shawl about her shoulders. It would have given her goosebumps, had she not already been covered in them. She turned to go back inside when movement caught her eye. Someone was inside her bedroom. Before she could summon forth her power, the person coughed hesitantly, speaking up. "Headmistress?"

Edea let the sudden tension in her body bleed away. It was only Xu, though what she wanted this early was beyond her.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked in a calm tone as she walked back inside. She reached back with her mind and closed the balcony doors behind her, shutting out the chill air.

Xu bore a large white envelope on a velvet pillow. "Headmistress, this message has just arrived from our agents in Esthar. The messenger insisted it be given to you at once."

Edea nodded curtly as she took the envelope, dismissing Xu with a wave. She turned the envelope over to open it, anxious to see what the message was; news from Esthar was important news indeed. Edea tore the envelope in half and pulled out a letter. She was surprised when she realized she held a single sheet of paper in her hand. Confused, the sorceress read the two short sentences. All the blood drained from her face.

For a moment, she only stood there. Her brain worked to comprehend what she had just read. Then, her momentary surprise gone, she marched briskly to her chamber door and flung it open. Xu, sitting outside the door, jumped smartly to her feet, ready to accept her Headmistress's instructions. Edea's eyes locked onto the girl's. "Bring my advisors at once."

She started to go back inside her chamber, but Xu spoke up apprehensively. "Headmistress? Um, they're bound to still be asleep. What should I tell them to speed their arrival?"

Edea looked at her with such a frightening expression that Xu thought she was going to be struck for her temerity. Then, the expression softened.

"Tell them," the sorceress replied softly, "that the song of swords is on the wind."

And she went back inside her chamber and shut the door.