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Join Date: January 2007
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N e p h a n y (C)
My first piece here ensues the Ultimecia/Rinoa theory as the background. The main character is Ultimecia; although, I used the japanese translation of her name in accordance with the story line. You'll see it in there.
Go ahead and have a read.
BACKGROUND INFORMATION
The world in the present day is adorned with the unique supremacy of mystically gifted individuals: those with the power of manipulation and an inherent knowledge of magic. These persons are universally known as great sorcerers and sorceresses. As it is said in many historical accounts, the world was created from the great sorcerer, Hyne. In Hyne’s boredom, he created the people who walk the earth, and in time, he passed on his powers to those who he deemed worthy of carrying on his inheritance.
Over many generations since Hyne, numerous sorcerers and sorceresses have walked the earth, passing on their vast knowledge of mysticism and strength through worthy bodies in time. It is said that no sorcerer will ever be free to die in peace without first passing on their spiteful memories of hurt and despair; because bearing the mark of a sorcerer entails the hatred of society, and the remote loneliness of isolation from the world.
In the current day, several establishments have been formed under the pretences of training soldiers to execute the presence of unruly sorcerers and sorceresses; sorcerers who, given their vast amounts of power are prone to becoming power-hungry and out of control: a colossal threat to society. These remote organizations, known as Gardens, are located on three separate corners of the world, and house the intellectual mercenary force known as SeeD. The individual members of the SeeD corporation are expected to complete adequate tasks and field exams in order to deem themselves worthy of precarious missions. The particular story which is about to be told, however, begins in a world of desolation, where the future has reached its boundaries, and where the duties of SeeD have come to a full halt.
PROLOUGUE
We are all born into a world of confusion and misconception. What lies beyond this life is unknowable by the people who dwell within their own eras. Only the residents of the future will ever have a perfect birds-eye-view of the lives of those who have passed. And only those who have seen it all from the beginning will have the know-how to change the events of history.
In the loneliest corner of the world, lingers the dieing hope of a perfect future. In the darkest bend of time, staggers the lonely heart of a Queen, whose knight had long since perished from her world. In the distant shores of one person’s imagination, lies not the future, but the twisted memories of enviable times long passed. In the recollections of a broken hearted Queen, lies the bitter wish to spoil the lives of those who lead her heart to despair.
CHAPTER ONE
(The Broken Hearted)
In the most remote and nameless region of the future, the world was oppressed by the influence of a lonely dictator. For dozens of millennia, the abandoned Queen had induced her sorrowful reign upon the world. Alone in the depths of her isolated castle, she waited for her beloved knight to come forth and fulfill the promise he had made to her so long ago. Deep in the pits of her soundless surrender, she lingered in silence, constantly whispering the same endless reminder of why she remained there for so long.
“I’ll be waiting here…” her cold melodramatic words echoed throughout the emptiness of the collapsing foyer. “…I promise.” For days…months…so long that the time couldn’t have been accounted for. “I’ll be waiting here…” A never-ending tune with lost meaning; but to the Queen, it made so much sense to sit still and wait for her knight to return.
The Queen had secluded herself from the world for so long, that in time, she had forgotten her own name. She had ignored the appearance her own face, and the unfamiliar sound of her voice. But the only obsession that lingered on in the desolate shards of her past was the memory of a promise made, and of a desire to make it come true. Her reputation among the world, for living so long, had earned her the title of Artemisia, ‘the farthest point in time’; for Artemisia, the broken-hearted Queen, would walk to the farthest point in time to find her destiny.
CHAPTER TWO
(Reflections upon Dreaming)
I awoke infuriated and out of breath; I found myself panting nervously in the dark. How long had I been experiencing the same tormenting dreams? At times I had found it troublesome to tell whether or not I was truly awake. Perhaps I was merely hallucinating these unspeakable events…I wiped away a trace of water from the corner of my eye, and stood to face the hallway; dark and narrow. I had always found it frightening to wander here on my own. Towards the end of the foyer, I glanced eastward to catch a glimpse of the sun; an all too unfamiliar sight as of late. Upon reaching the doorway, I felt a strange wind rush past me, dizzying me in my still dreamy state. I shivered in one of those uncomfortable efforts to shake the upsetting thoughts out of my head.
To the fore, I found myself gazing towards a familiar face. It seems as if the person in front of me was someone who I had long-awaited to see. But then, a part of me knew that I’d known that face for much longer than I could honestly recall. I drew myself away from the glare of the rising sun and rested my back against a nearby pillar. “Can I tell you a story?” I asked. After not receiving the favor of a response, I carried on. “It’s about a dream I had.” I spoke as if it hadn’t been my first time telling the story…but how could it have been? I continued. “In my dream, we made a promise together.” I said. “We promised to see shooting stars…I got dressed up, and put on your ring. But then…I couldn’t remember where we were supposed to meet.” I turned my head to see if there was any reaction. And I continued again. “Then in my dream, I started to panic. I really wanted to see you. I started running…through Timber, Balamb, Galbadia...I finally stopped after realizing that I couldn’t run any longer. I just wanted to see you again, so I tried calling your name over, and over. When I finally woke up, I was crying…”
This time I didn’t turn my head again for the sheer embarrassment of what I had said. “It was just a dream” he said. “It really doesn’t mean anything. Don’t worry about it.” I dropped my head down. “I guess you’re right” I replied.
I remained quiet and set my sights foreword, towards the field ahead. Then, to my surprise, he started speaking to me again. “How about this,” he said. “I’ll be here.” I looked up to catch a glimpse of the side of his face. “What?”
He took a breath and started speaking again. “The reason you couldn’t find me in your dream was because we haven’t promised yet.” I looked away and thought for a moment. “Promised?” I turned back towards him and tried to catch a better view of his face, but all I could really make out was the side. He shifted his weight in a strangely familiar way and said something that absolutely stirred me. “I’ll be waiting for you.” Those words hit me in a way that I couldn’t describe. “I’ll be waiting for you…so if you come here, you’ll find me.” I knew those words so well, but then again, they were new to me somehow. I felt light like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, but the familiarity of what he said to me made me uncomfortable in some way. He spoke to me like he’d already known what I was waiting to hear. “I’ll be waiting for you. If you come here, you’ll find me…I promise…” I felt my pulse flutter, and I quickly turned towards him, but I couldn’t see his face. I stepped foreword, but he turned away. Suddenly, I felt my heart drop. Why wouldn’t he look at me? “Look at me!” I said anxiously. I started shaking, scared and uncertain of what was happening. “Why won’t you look at me?” I took his hand and tried pulling him towards me. “Why can’t I see you? Look at me!” All of a sudden, I felt myself drop, unexpectedly; I started falling down and down until finally, I felt my head collide with the floor.
CHAPTER THREE
(A peaceful slumber)
I awoke again in a fit of hurt and anxiety; puzzled nonetheless by the indistinguishable happenings of the previous night. My head was throbbing so badly; my vision blurred and unclear. I paced uneasily around the room. The room...I noticed. It seemed smaller, brighter, and more open than it had been before. I sat upright, then slumped my head down for a moment; still not adjusted to the intensity of the daylight that glimmered into my eyes. I turned away from the window and gazed towards the bedcovers. Before I could slip into another thought about my surroundings, I remembered…“Where did you go?” I whispered.
I stood upright and approached the window to the rear of the bed. My eyes roamed incessantly across the balcony, and there in the distance, I took note of the same beautiful field of wildflowers that had existed in my previous dream. My head suddenly began to whirl. I felt tired, insecure all of a sudden. I stepped backwards, then suddenly, a bead of cold sweat rolled down my forehead, and I dropped back down against the bed. “Why is this happening???” I stammered. I felt restrained, and disoriented; as if I’d lost control of myself. My chest was heavy; I was heaving in air. Anxiously I tried to stay conscious while clamping my hands around the sheets that I laid on. Then uncontrollably, I fell through.
“……………………………..
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How long had it been, I wondered. My mind roamed across so many probabilities as for why I had been suffering with such agony. Then suddenly, I felt…truly alone. I was hysterical; thinking fanatically that perhaps I’d fallen into a coma; or actually…no longer being alive could have even been the case. Could I have died? I felt foolish really; thinking to myself, talking to myself. Then out of nowhere: a voice. I heard a distinct murmur. I knew I hadn’t been talking to myself at that moment. I shut my eyes tightly. “Where are you?” I whispered. I waited forever… ceaselessly I waited and waited, just to know that someone really was there with me. “I’m not alone…” I dimly spoke.
Suddenly, my thoughts went distraught. I heard it again; clearly and understandable. It was him! My heart leapt, and began pounding frantically at the sound of his voice. “Please”, he said. My mind went blank with anticipation. I stuttered, but no words would come out of my mouth. I tried desperately to speak back. He kept talking regardless of my absent response. “I want to hear your voice.” He said bleakly. “Call out my name”, he said. “Call out my name…” And then, silence.
Join Date: March 2007
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Its not finished? Hmm.. I thought it was a one chapter thing, and the way it ended sound pretty good, and since thats what happens at the end of the game, makes sense.
Join Date: January 2007
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Well I could.
You know, what, it kind of bugs me when stories end with typical "fairy tale" endings.
This is one of my favorite FF theories, because it's tragic. XD
Join Date: January 2007
Location: Los Angeles
Posts: 3,995
Threads: 121
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My Mood:
Rep Power: 5
I've started writing a history section for my RP character named Eldon. The historical account is written in the form of journal entries and the entire account spans from year 941 to 950; which will detail certain aspects of Eldon's life from age 19-28.
Most of the entries in Eldon's journal will describe scenery and confrontations on the battle front, minor details about his love interest, and specific political crookedness that ensues in his later years. The majority of the historical account will revolve around war.
My character is an egotistical womanizing loudmouth. Here in his journal entries is the only place you can find his civilized face. =]
Prologue: confined by war<o:p></o:p>
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First month of spring
Year 941
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Dinjuba is located at the furthest underpinning tip of the Southern Territories. It’s a small yet highly respectable territory of land, ruled predominately by a community of superstitious natives. Their own fanaticism will be their downfall in the long run, I presume. The natives are polite though; despite our occupation of their land, they are still hospitable, and selfless…I fear that my superiors have made a mistake in disrupting this modest people’s way of life…
I cannot describe the beauty of this place; it is a strange and extraordinary site to behold. Never in my life have I seen such splendor or refinement allying in naturally born characteristics of the environment. On my last explorative post though the eastern Dinjuban mountain range, I saw such scenic visions that I could not have imagined in my own dreams. There are cascading waterfalls and certain goliath-like trees which span to heights that are equal in size to the skyscraping towers and buildings back home.
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Last month of summer
Year 941
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Today marks my six month in Dinjuba. It is the last month of summer now; though I fear we will not see the end of this immense heat for quite some time. I feel for my fellow soldiers who hail from lands of drastically cold climates; they must be suffering a great deal in this strenuous wave of heat.
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First month of fall
Year 941
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I have met a young woman here who claims to be of native heritage; however, I do not fail to see through her charade. She is a woman of class and elegance, yet she does retain certain indigenous qualities through such characteristics as her speech and attitude. I asked her for her name, and she says…“Rheallia”. I call her “Rhea” for short.
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Second month of fall
Year 941<o:p></o:p>
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I have lost two one of my dear friends in these last weeks. Nicolas and Norman; my respected companions since childhood. I cannot describe the agony…and I cannot describe their deaths; for I was not there to protect them.
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First month of winter
Year 941
<o:p> </o:p>
I’ve grown quite fond of her…is this true infatuation? She has shown me many things of which I was not formerly familiar with. We do not communicate much as of late; I see her once a week maybe, but we do not always speak face to face. The natives relay brief messages between us in a bashful manor. They say she is fond of me, but that her duties restrict her from being fully acquainted with me. Her duties? I never bothered to inquire what her responsibilities were.
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<o:p> </o:p>
Third month of winter
Year 942
<o:p> </o:p>
One of my fellow squad leaders informs me that our country has issued a full blown attack on Dinjuba; we are to forcefully occupy all citizens and place them in encampments as prisoners of war.
My dear Rhea …she is the fifteen year old daughter of Ambassador Virgil Indormew; five years my junior, and a daughter of noble birth. I did not have the personal privilege of confining her myself. Has she and her family fled the territory safely? I have been unsuccessful at locating her in this chaotic time. Perhaps I should not let this fickle infatuation concern me.
<o:p> </o:p>
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<o:p> </o:p>
Second month of spring
Year 942
<o:p> </o:p>
This day marks my 14<sup>th</sup> month in Dinjuba. I have had much to talk about; however, I chose to wait for this noteworthy day to make my entry. This month I celebrated my 21<sup>st</sup> birthday. It was an unfortunate time for celebration however, and I chose to commemorate my survival alone. Many of my friends have perished in these last months...
The occupation is not over; my regiment however, has managed to survive for a full year; and as such, we are granted a one month return home to the Northern city of <st1:city><st1:place>Sandra</st1:place></st1:city>.
I have narrowly escaped my own death many times in the recent months. This war is proving to be immensely difficult. Have I changed as a person? I am more fearless. My love for Rhea will always remain in my heart as a petty reminder of the dim light that hope sheds in such sorrowful times. My hope is for modest persons such as her to survive this conflict unscathed.
<o:p> </o:p>
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<o:p> </o:p>
First month of summer
Year 942
<o:p> </o:p>
I am overcoming a deep hatred for my country, for my friends, and for myself. Several of the prison encampments have been ruthlessly massacred by my own allies. I have seen such carnage before in my own homeland of Randraden. The Northern region of Sandra which I fight for has ruthlessly murdered my own friends and family in the past. I have heard many rumors that the ambassador and his daughter, Rheallia, have been slaughtered in these massacres…
I do not pray that these rumors are wrong. I do not pray anymore…
I return home in three weeks…
N e p h a n y (C) 
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