Story: Liberi Fatali

The Squire and the Death Knight

[OOC: This scene is set to Liberi Fatali from the opening of Final Fantasy VIII. If you have it, read along with it playing - it is fitting and if this were rendered, it fits in time perfectly.]

The skies above were brushed with hints of white, etheric clouds that stretched like spider webs across the sea of light blue. A wind blew in from the ocean, tinted with the smell of salt and magic, tiny glistening sparkles flowing along the breeze like butterflies.

A small hammock hung between two trees, swaying lightly in the wind, the body of a lithe creamed coffee coloured Ayr'dal wrapped in its gentle embrace. Her hair was short and black, save for two long white strands that drifted down to frame her sleeping face; her muscles were well toned, though they lay flat to give the illusion a frailty to the young woman.

Her eyes snapped open, distant and watching something far away. The glistening droplets of sea water fell around her, a few feathers of a flock of passing hawks drifting downward with them. One feather brushed over her nose before falling down to her lap momentarily, drifing there for only a few moments until the wind lifted it back into the wind and away from her.

Her sword fell from her hand, spiralling backward behind her from the blow, a thin trail of blood glistening through the air. It turned in the air, landing point down into the groud, quivering with the force of impact as it buried deep into the soil. The woman was upon it immediately, pulling it free from the ground with a metallic groan, the long sword immediately swinging before her in a wide arc as she brought it to the ready. Her sheild lay shattered several yards away, leaving her largely unprotected, relying entirely upon the small, light sword.

Some distance away, atop the rocky hills surrounding the valley, two figures stood like ghosts, watching the scene unfold. One kept their eyes upon the girl, features intense with confusion and anger while the larger, more radiant figure kept their eyes upon the girl's opponant. It seemed as if the larger figure was controlling the tied of battle, one long, thin hand extended, fingers curving to almost point as the hand moved in time with the battle.

As the metallic groan sounded through the valley, a huge man clad in black armour rushed towards her, large two handed sword drawn, held in one hand that was extend back in the beginning of an attack. He lifted his face, anger and resolution carved deeply into his features as he charged towards the woman. Their swords crossed, and the smaller woman managed to push him back slightly, and he gave a cocky smirk, beckoning her to attack him with a small motion of one hand.

She brought her long sword up in an arch as she charged forward, their blades again crossing between them, the distinct sound of a metal edge scraping along another metal edge echoing in the valley. He withdrew his blade first, bringing it from the side for another attack, only to find the lighter and faster long sword blocking his motion. She pressed again, this time causing him to kneel slightly. His sword raised horizontally before his face as hers came down quickly in an over-head arch, the metal blades locking against each other momentarily before he was able to push her backward.

Back on the ridge, the figure watching the dark knight grinned wickedly, her features echoing his as he pressed forward.

The smaller knight jumped back, sword lifting to a defensive position as he began to press, bringing the two-handed edge forward again and again, each time being met by her smaller blade as she blocked his attacks. Finally, the man swung too wide, giving the girl the opprotunity to attack. Her blade moved in a sharp arch before her, his blade grazing hers as he leaned back out of the way, a second strike from the woman following that he blocked with ease; she continued her press, and again he blocked, this time her blade sliding downwards off his, leaving her side slightly exposed.

As she brought the long sword back up, the dark knight grinne wickedly, his hand lifting forward between them. The movement caused her to hesitate, unsure of why the man was leaving himself so exposed until she saw the crackling energy surrounding his fingers, the black and red fires of pure Hate and Fear wrapping about his extended hand. Before she could react, the harmful touch leaped outward, catching her entire body in its painful flames, her muscles twitching beneath the assault of emotion.

She stumbled backward, stunned, barely regaining her balance as the dark knight charged toward her. His blade flashed once as it cut her across the cheek, blood spilling down her neck to be lost amid the blood from the rest of her wounds. Her left hand began to lift the long sword in a low arch, tip scraping along the valley floor as she raised it to defend herself. The dark knight's blade assaulted her several more times, each time barely deflected by the smaller sword, the girl's energy clearly waning.

The wicked figure on the ridge stabbed her finger foward as the smaller figure looked to the first in confusion. At the same time, the dark knight drove his two-handed blade forward into the smaller knight's side, the blade burying deep into chainmail and flesh. He looked down at the small knight, the evil marking his features slowly fading into confusion and concern.

Blood poured from her side, and the small knight looked down, her small hand slowly reaching to touch the blood as she fell to her knees before him. She looked up one last time, her features marked by surprise and sorrow, fading golden eyes staring up into the dark knight's pale, almost colourless eyes. His were filled with shock and confusion, realisation at what he had done.

"Andrew?" she whispered as she slide sideways off of the blade, falling to the ground as the world around her turned black.

Slowly, the girl looked about her, golden eyes coming into focus before she fell back into the hammock, exhausted.