It's another Norco Fanction!! That is, a fiction by Norco.
I own nothing, except for my computer, the clothes on my person, and my sanity. 
Sometimes not even that...
norco@fantasysquare.com

No Rest for the LionHearted - Chapter Five

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the first fiction I've ever attempted that stars the 
characters from FF8. I only played the game once or twice, not really enough to 
understand what makes each of the characters tick. I have played FF7 heaps, 
about five or six times, so I'm not worried about them. Please tell me if you 
think any of the FF8 characters drift out of character.

  "He's a Jenova, and Jenova are extremely hard to kill," Cloud said to the 
leader as the two of them stood outside of the Infirmary back at their base. 
"So. What was that crystal he stole?" Cloud asked, kind of unsure what to do 
with him, who was deep in thought. "Yo!' Cloud growled, and surprised himself on 
two counts. He wasn't a "yo!' type of person, and he didn't even know this young 
man's name. The confusion must have shown on his face, because the young man, 
who Cloud noted, was barely out of his teens, only eighteen or so, was staring 
at him. He offered him his hand. 
  "My name is Squall Leonhart," he said. "Welcome to Balamb Garden." He turned 
his thoughts back inward, and once again, Cloud was alone, even though there 
were three people in the room.
  "Squall, you're such a wonderful host," said a roly-poly woman dressed in 
white clothes. "You have aliens from outer space, and you're still as thoughtful 
as always."
  "They're not aliens," Squall stressed, and Cloud could see that he was trying 
hard not smile. "They're simply from another world. Cloud, this is Balamb 
Garden's Doctor, Doctor Kadowaki."
  Doctor Kadowaki smiled. "Cloud, eh? Well, this is Squall. He's our resident 
leader, and suffers from a deploreable lack of the social niceites."
  "Whatever," Squall waved the detail away. "How's Quistis?" Cloud moved around 
the corner to peek at the slender young woman lying peacefully on the bed.
  "She's fine; she should make a full recovery. And now, gentlemen, I must go 
and badger the Headmaaster." She left the room, chuckling to herself.
  "Headmaster?" Cloud sniffed. "Is this some kind of school?" Squall was now 
leaning against a wall.
  "Sort of. Garden trains SeeD's, and SeeD's defeat the Soceress. But the 
Soceress has been defeated." The last was added as an afterthought. "Come on," 
he said, straightening up, "let's go to the cafe".

  Rinoa sat in the cafe chatting eagerly about men, and their various 
experiences with Cloud's wife Tifa. She was a very nice person, her long hair 
swishing as she nodded or shook her head. Tifa was just telling her about being 
a martial artist. Raising a hand to pause Tifa's gushing recount of her martial 
art experiences, she beckoned to Zell, who'd just come skidding in, looking for 
hotdogs, and, as usual, finding none. Walking over to Rinoa and Tifa, his 
expression reminded her of a sad puppy dog. Her dog, Angelo, to be exact. 
  "Zell, this is Tifa, and she's a martial artist." Rinoa told him, and his face 
lit up like a computer panel, the frown changing into a lopsided smile.
  "Really? Wanna go?" he asked, swinging his fists at an imaginary foe, a sign 
that he was in a good mood. Rinoa had long ago adjusted to Zell's acrobatics. 
"Uh, I mean, um, just to practise," he stammered, looking at Tifa and Rinoa's 
exchanged glances of confusion. He was still swatting. Rinoa nodded 
microscopically to Tifa. 
  "Um .. Okay, I guess" Tifa said, standing.
  "ALLRIGHT!!!!" Zell sqawked, turning to face Tifa, now standing in front of 
him. "Let's see how you handle this," he said, a fist suddenly flying towards 
Tifa's face faster than Rinoa could see. Without warning, the fist stopped. She 
blinked in confusion, and she realised that Tifa had caught Zell's fist. Zell's 
expression was one of wounded pride and mortified horror. With power defying her 
graceful appearance, she used both hands to flip him over onto the cafeteria 
floor. He landed with a solid thud, and Rinoa swore she could hear the breath 
leave his body momentarily. At that exact moment, Squall and Cloud walked into 
the room. There was an amused look on Squall's face, a rare event for the SeeD 
commander. Cloud, on the other hand, was gaping in mild horror.
  "You didn't, did you?" he breathed, looking between his wife and the young man 
sprawled on the floor.
  "Oh relax", came a voice from behind Tifa. Cloud identified the voice as 
Squall's lady friend, Rinoa. "She didn't give to him any more than he had 
coming. Besides," she gestured to the crumpled form on the floor. "I once told 
him, women rule." She smiled thinly, and laughed at her own wit. At that moment, 
Zell woke up, jumped up to the ready, saw Tifa, and shied away. Squall gave 
Rinoa a funny look.
  "You've been paying attention to that Women's Liberation group, haven't you?" 
he asked warily.

  Elsewhere, in a dimension far from the shackles of mortal life, the creature 
once known as Peregrine sat in nothingness. Using the power of the Pox-Rin-Umat, 
he'd tapped into the power at the center of creation, The Eye of the Storm. He 
sat, crosslegged, in/on nothingness. Yet he was in nothing at all. He was, in 
fact, straddling all the lanes of existance. Yet he wasn't. It was an 
interesting and confusing paradox. He was .. yet he wasn't. And that statement 
presented a new problem. He wasn't a "he". Well, he was, as well as being a 
"she" and a dozen other genders that he had no names for. Setting aside his 
confusion, he set about his new task. A small, twisted column of fleshy material 
grew from the depths of nothingness. Atop it sat a small ball of the purest 
crystal. A terrible cliche, that people in power used crystal balls to spy on 
their foes. It was also a cliche that Peregrine had chosen to uphold. Sort of a 
morbid sense of humor on his part. All around him, the infinite lines of the 
infinite creatures in existance were appearing, disappearing, joining, 
splitting, and performing all sorts of movements so fast that even his brain 
could not keep up. He was interested in the lines of six people. Seifer Alamsy. 
Squall Leonhart. Rinoa Heartilly. Tifa Lockheart. Cloud Strife. Quistis Trepe. 
Oh, he was interested in the lives of the others, and even now, a small portion 
of his mind was toying with the cosmic strings to bring others into the game. 
Yes, that was what this was. No longer a mad quest for destruction of his 
enemies. A game. And after he'd won this game, he could turn his attention to 
the more important games. Games weren't for children, they were for those who 
saught intellectual challenge. With his new powers, he was able to use the 
cosmos as his game board. And now, with all this pondering, the weapon that he'd 
been working on had been ready. Like a queen coming from behind to capture a 
group of unsuspecting pawns, his missile would catch them unawares. It launched 
from the middle of nothingness and disappeared. Watching the image on his ball, 
he saw the weapon emerge into real space. It wasn't a missle as such, more of a 
carrier of destruction. With a flash of insight, he slowed the missile to a slow 
crawl. He smiled grimly. He knew what to do know. The best way to destroy his 
opponents.

  There were several students now in the cafe at Balamb Garden. Eric Pressman 
was among them. He waved to Squall as he came in. Grabbing a newly baked hotdog 
(Zell had missed out once again) he moved to talk to Squall about an idea he'd 
had. Suddenly, Squall, Rinoa, and the guests they were with disappeared. Eric 
stared at the spot where Squall was. 
  "No wonder I'm not a SeeD; I just don't have the knack of getting to the right 
place at the right time." It was nearly and hour later before he realised that 
Squall and the others had disappeared because someone had used magic, not 
because they chose to leave. He raised the alarm.
  
  Squall stood almost in the exact same spot that he had that morning, when the 
stranger had stolen the crystal, as well as Cloud's groups arrival. And, once 
again, all eleven were standing there, wondering what to do next.
  "Squall Leonhart. Cloud Strife." A mighty voice boomed from above them. "You 
are indeed the Lionhearted. But I am even more mighty now." The two men craned 
their necks skyward to see Peregrine floating down to the ground.
  "Their fate is uncertain. That is why they are called the Lionhearted." 
another voice shot back, as a large, six-winged, dragonfly-shpaed shadow blocked 
out the sun. Cloud gasped slightly.
  "Acturus!" he yelled, seeming happy to see the dragon thing.
  "No, he is not happy to see me," an old-yet-amused sounding voice said in his 
mind. He looked at Cloud questioningly. Cloud pointed, as the dragon, which bore 
a striking resemblance to the GF Bahamut, landed like a bird on a perch. As it 
did so, Squall watched a man, barefoot, and about Cloud's on height. He held a 
long staff in his hand.
  "This is Acturus, a friend of ours," Cloud said. "Acturus, this is Squall 
Leonhart." he said, gesturing to the young man beside him. 
  "Excellent!!" Peregrine exulted, beaming like a child on Christmas morning. An 
unexpected element! Great!!"
  "You should have known that I'd find you, filth!" Acturus spat. There was a 
flash of light, to Cloud's right. Three flashes, to be exact. Three people 
appeared. As usual, the third person (a term loosely applied to this creature) 
was unflappable, and hard to confuse.
  "Cloud," said Red XIII. "What in the worlds are you doing?"
  Yuffie and Vincent were standing beside Red, still belwildered.
  Perhaps, Cloud thought, Everything will be fine after all. Together, they 
turned to face Peregrine. The creature grinned further, and rasied his hands, 
envoking a spell.

END OF CHAPTER FIVE.