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 AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Place with the lights isn't a stage with funny curtains, it's the same dimension that you encounter Diablos. No Rest for the Lion Hearted - Chapter 7 The Creature Formerly known as Peregrine sat cross-legged in his dimension of infinite dimensions that were no dimensions as all. He watched intently, as several bright lines of light disappeared from the tapestry of life forms in the cosmos. Just several, in a field of trillions of trillions of trillions of similar lines of light. Oh sure, they were disappearing and appearing all the time, but these several he'd just disposed of himself. There was one that he was particularly interested in. Focusing his thoughts on the interesting strand, he pulled at it, like a bored child pulling at the threads in a tapestry. Drawing it loose, drawing it towards himself. Squall was cold. Not freezing, teeth-chattering cold, but cool enough to notice. Possibly to make you shiver. Looking around him, he saw absolutely nothing. It was as if he and Acturus, who was standing beside him, were standing in an infinite thundercloud. But there was no thunder, no rain, nothing like a thunderstorm. And exactly where they stood, a giant spotlight seemed to illuminate the general area where the two stood. "Hello?" Squall called, and, to his surprise, his voice didn't echo. It was like he was in a sound proof room. And the place was deathly quiet and still. No movement, no sound. No breeze, nothing. There was no texture to the floor, so he couldn't tell if he was actually moving anywhere, since the giant spotlight seemed to move with them. "It seems that we're meant to wait here." Acturus said quietly, looking around at the nothingness that seemed to close on in the pair like a blanket. Squall noticed that Acturus had his quarterstaff extended and ignited, the orange-ish fire casting an eeire glow over his face, making him look like some demonic gargoyle. A roar in the distance caught their attention. Squall, drawing his gunblade, and raising it to a defensive position, looked around for the source. For the first few moments, he saw nothing. As he watched, a similar strobe of light seemed to be moving towards them, much like a person on a stage, and an overhead lamp tracking that person. As the figure, who was a good few hundered meters away, came closer, Squall could see that it was a man. A man, dressed in loose black clothes. A man weilding a quarterstaff. He stopped a few meters away from Acturus and Squall, the strobe light following him mingling with Squall's own. Looking down at the weapon in his hands, it seemed to be glowing a perfuse blue color. Almost a aquamarine. And then the breath rushed out of his lungs like a bullet from Irvine's gun. This wasn't his gunblade. The handle looked just like the branch off a tree, but felt like smooth leather. And the handle was a giant aqua blade, lancing out as if it wanted to hurt someone. "Yes, Squall Leonhart," the stranger said, his voice almost dreamy. "That is your weapon. The Lionheart. For the Lionhearted. For here, all things that are to be, are." He looked at the two men in turn. "And now, the final curtain approaches." The man raised his weapon, and attacked. Acturus's quarterstaff slammed into the opponents, the orange flame clashing with the fluro green. Squall's weapon, glowing an eerie aquamarine seemed to pull him to the battle. The weapons of the three men clashed, again and again, each blow causing Squall to wince from the sheer power. Pissed off didn't even begin to describe how Cloud felt. His rage seethed from him like a bad stench from a garbage dump. He'd been whisked away from Squall's world a split second before it exploded. His hair had lost its form, becoming a wild, filthy, sweat drenched mess. He didn't care. This creature, had killed his wife, killed all his friends, both old and new, it had played games with his life, it had destroyed all the people on Squall's world. In the distance, he could see a spotlight or something, and several flashing lights and dark shapes moving around at rapid speed. Drawing the Ultima Weapon, he jogged over, flaps of cloth from his clothes flapping around as he did so. He could see Acturus, Squall and Peregrine dueling it out, all seeming unable to destroy each other. Sheathing his sword, Cloud grinned a wolfish grin. He would end it all here. He would destroy Peregrine. At least it would buy the dead some peace, in knowing that this foul creatre would die. He raised his hand, and felt the power flow, and sent a small comet hurtling into Peregrine. He was surprised, to say the least. Thrown a dozen metres or so, Cloud felt the power touch his fingers again. This time, a shower of comets rained down from who knows where, each exploding on impact. Peregrine was being thrown around like a leaf in a storm. Good. And now, for his favourite spell. Clouds appeared of the fallen man, dark and brooding. They began to crackle, and suddenly spat out dangerous bolts of lightning. The electric arcs slammed into Peregrine, again and again. Each time, finding it's mark, the lightning struck, making him scream in agony. Lowering his hand, Cloud spoke. 'You murdered them, Peregrine. You murdered everyone on that planet." He swallowed, and glared at him. Again, he unsheathed his sword. "You killed my wife," he said, his voice darkening further. "And now, I'll kill you." "Will that bring her back," Peregrine sneered, crouching and staggering to his feet. "I doubt it will." "I DON'T CARE, I JUST WANT YOU DEAD," Cloud roared, and lifting the sword high above his head a strange column of light seemed to swirl around him. His eyes were filled to the brim with rage, burning into Peregrines face. Remembering Acturus' advice, he remembered the first time he'd truly tapped into his Jenova powers, aboard the Jenova vessel. And suddenly, the wind disappeared. Cloud lowered the sword so that it was pointing behind him, and crouched like a sprinter before a race. "Now die!" Rushing forward almost faster than Squall could see, Cloud slammed into Peregrine with the flat of the blade. Picking his opponent up, he sliced him clean through, the blade seeming to pass straight through him. This didn't bother Cloud. Shoving the sword through Peregrine's midsection, he threw him away like a rag doll. Turning around, he sprinted him again, this time, meeting Peregrine with a flurry of strikes, each seemingly passing through without a scratch. Slammed down, up, thrown, and slashed so many times, Squall had lost count, Peregrine fell to the floor, seemingly out of breath. Pressing his advantage, Cloud, propelled by some unseen force, leaped into the air, and in one smooth motion, turned the sword to the blade was pointing down. This time, the blade did penetrate his midsection, causing him to howl, an inhumane, eeire howl, that sent shivers up Squall's back. It took a few minutes after the mental onslaught delivered by Cloud, but Peregrine eventually got his feet under him again. "Do you have any idea what I'm on about?" he asked, glaring at Cloud, who was staring, open mouthed. For a moment, he comtemplated revealing his plan. But thought the better of it. "No matter," he said, "You will find out soon enough." He raised his hands, and from each, a bolt of black lightning slammed into Acturus, causing him to vanish from sight. Squall didn't say anything, his eyes smoldering like coals on a fire. He raised his fingers again, and the lightning caught Cloud full across the chest, he fell back, with only a few minutes to live. Squall rushed to his side. "Cloud, why isn't he hurt? From what I could tell, you only dealt one blow? Why?" Squall asked, leaning over his fallen companion. "It was a mental attack. He felt the .. damage in his mind. Only the last blow was a true physical blow." He coughed harshly, and grabbed the gunblade at his belt. "Don't use it, Squall," he coughed, barely audible. "This isn't the way. I can't tell -" he coughed again "- you any more. But let there be no more death outside yourself. No ..." The last of the sentence was lost, as Cloud Strife died. Anguish rised in his throat, threatning to crush him. No more death.... "Pick up your weapon, Squall. You know what you have to do." Peregrine sneered, leering at him lopsidedly. "No. What would I do, hmm?" Squall shot back. "Go dancing, fall in love? No, you, and only you have the power to leave this place. So, you'll kill have to kill me. In fact, I dont' think you'll even have to try. I refuse to attack that which I have no hope of defeating." No more death outside yourself.... "I am ending this game." And before Peregrine could do a thing, Squall vanished, a single feather floating down marking his departure. Replaying the scene, he saw Squall had cast a devastating magic spell on himself. He'd killed himself, rather than die futilely. Humans, no matter where they came from, were a complex race. Sometimes, they'd fight against insane odds, and get slaughtered. Other times, they refused to fight, and would self destruct. How could one person willingly destroy him or herself? A complext puzzle indeed. Yet, they all did it because they thought it would give them a greater chance at winning, because they could see the bigger picture. Neither Squall or Cloud had seen the picture. And now, it was time to reveal the plan. Focusing his thoughts, he returned to his strange dimension. Pulling a string from his pocket, he returned it to the tapestry from which it came. A small patch of material followed, seamlessly re intergrating with the tapestry it had been ripped from. Peregrine smiled. He made a gesture, and was suddenly back in the black dimension he'd been in moments before. A small crowd was waiting for him. Cloud's friends, and Squall's. All alive and well. Cloud looked at Peregrine. And saw him begin to change, to shift. His heart skipped a beat, and he drew his wife closer to him. "It's her," he whispered, excitement in his voice. Aeris sounded just a trifle tired. "I know you!" Squall burst out! "You're the fortune teller at the roadside camp when I got this, shortly after I joined SeeD." He fingered the intricate necklace that hung around his neck. she asked, smiling gently. "...You said .. There is no rest for the Lionhearted. I asked you what you meant. You just smiled, and didn't answer me. After that, I went to the smith, and my necklace was ready. Then I left. That was the last I ever saw. I wondered what you meant..." His voice trailed off. "Now I guess I know." Aeris said again, her disembodied voice reaching all their heads. She paused. She pointed at Cloud and Squall, <-are the Lionhearted. You are destined to save the galaxy, to save all life.> Squall paled. "But how can I be this 'Hero' of yours? I killed myself, rather than face you." he stammered, seemingly disliking the notion of destroying himself because he couldn't win. She took a breath. She turned to leave, through some invisble exit. "Aeris!" Cloud called, and jogged to her, and embraced her in a hug. "Just make sure to write okay," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "Wait. I have a question," Tifa asked, coming up alongside her husband, almost as if to remind Cloud and Aeris that she still existed. "If you were that creature Peregrine, then how could you do the things that you did?" Her brow creased with worry. She smiled faintly. Tifa nodded in acceptance. "But, was there really a Peregrine?" Tifa asked again. She sighed. There was a bright flash, and everyone who was there was now gone. END OF CHAPTER 7