Eyes on Final Fantasy Forums > General > Writer's Corner > [S] Queen of the Night

[BG-57]

This is a Ultimecia origin fanfiction (not R=U though). It may get lengthy, so I'm going to try to post the chapters as attachments to this post.

If you'd rather see the text within the post, I can do that as well.

You can see my related artwork here.

[McLovin']

Please continue. Personally, I'd like to see the text in the post though.

[BG-57]

Done.



Queen of the Night

A Final Fantasy VIII Fanfiction

By BG-57

Prologue

The castle was eternally bathed in moonlight, for reasons known only to its mistress; not even to her minions could tell. Not that it mattered to them, for her will was absolute, unquestioned. To question her was to deny her, and that would deny existence itself. Perhaps it was because the castle would wither and die in the light of day, like the vampires of legend. It certainly looked magnificent in the glow of the moon; grey stone walls connected by four towers in a roughly square pattern. Each tower was surmounted by twin pinnacles. Above them loomed the central keep, a series of ever smaller towers mounted atop each other. The base of castle was built on top of a rocky floating island that twisted cruelly into the shapes of claws. Two dozen gigantic chains were all that tethered it to the earth below. Parts of the walls will hidden by ominous dark storm clouds. Crowning the castle was twin spires, connected by a perilously narrow footbridge. One spire had a long bat wing protruding from it while the other sported a clock tower with four faces.

Sitting on the roof of the clock tower was giant dragon. Tiamat had a black body with gold trim and enormous electric blue wings stretched between dark spines, topped by curved hooks. Its crimson eyes scanned the horizon patiently. It knew they would come; the waves of fools who came to throw themselves to their deaths. Tiamat was almost annoyed with them; why not kill themselves and save the bother? Finally it saw the shimmer of a rectangular portal mounted along one of the chains. The four portals looked like full length mirrors but in fact provided easy access to different parts of the planet. Tiamat stretched out its wings and took off into the night air. It swooped in low over the bridge spanning across the towers, which was lined with crumbling gargoyles on pedestals on either side. The far tower had a sharply sloped roof with four pinnacles surrounding it. It landed on the roof and closed its eyes in concentration.

“My Queen, I humbly beg an audience,” it roared. For a time all was silent.

“Enter Tiamat,” came a terse reply. Tiamat sank through the roof into the chamber below. It was a cylindrical chamber with an outer wall of stone ringed with curved windows. And inner golden ring was supported by half a dozen tall pillars. In the center was mounted on a fluted capital, above which sat a platform with a large crimson throne flanked by burning braziers. Behind it were elaborate carved panels.

A cold arrogant woman sat on the throne, with a casual air that those wielding absolute power seemed to enjoy. Ultimecia wore her long silver hair in two long bangs down her chest, the rest gathered into a headdress with two long curved horns. The rest of her skintight blood red costume revealed her chest, abdomen, and legs; only her arms were demurely covered in long sleeves. What was visible of her skin was covered with elaborate tattoos. Her cheeks and forehead were decorated with purple streaks and eyeliner that contrasted sharply with her amber eyes. A pair of ebon feathered wings protruded from her shoulder blades. She leaned her head on a violet gloved hand with an expression of faint boredom.

“What is it Tiamat?” she asked with mild annoyance.

“My Queen, a party of SeeD has breeched the dimensional portals and is proceeding toward the main gate,” replied Tiamat in a thundering voice.

“And are you not fit to deal with them?” inquired Ultimecia with a faint twinge of amusement.

“Of course not!” bellowed the dragon defensively, “I just wanted to inform you.”

“Then go forth and deal with them.”

“At once!” gulped Tiamat, unfurling its wings and taking off through the ceiling; that left her alone to brood.

“They are no match for my minions,” she murmured.

“You are mistaken, my Queen,” said a shadowy voice.

“Griever?” she inquired, looking slightly surprised. A large black humanoid with a lion’s head materialized before her. It had five translucent orange spines curving back across its head, with a matching pair at the elbows. A long tail lashed behind, while above spread out black spines with white feathers. It held out a claw tipped hand to her.

“He is with them,” it said in a stately voice, “My father.”

“I am the one who gave you form!” she snarled angrily. Griever shook its head sadly.

“While that is true,” it replied reasonably, “I am still his creation.”

“What of it?” she demanded. Ultimecia could tolerate a little insolence in Griever, far more than in her other servants, but this Guardian Force was pushing its luck.

“He is the one fated to defeat you,” stated Griever gravely, “You must leave the castle.”

“Never!” snapped Ultimecia defiantly, “I will not flee before a SeeD!”

“I will kill him for you,” said the lion creature quietly, “It is my burden.”

“Yours?” she sneered, “You will die if I leave.”

“I will die even if you stay,” replied the Guardian Force, “You must remember your promise.”

“What promise?” she demanded. What was Griever going on about?

“The one you made to your Knight,” said Griever, “I will return what is rightfully yours.”

“I have no Knight,” averred Ultimecia. But Griever was already reaching out with an extended paw to her forehead. Ultimecia clenched the armrests of the throne tightly as the memories came flooding back into her….


Chapter 1

The late afternoon sun slanted over the city of Esthar, bathing the gleaming glass and metal skyscrapers in an eerie crimson light. The buildings formed giant concentric rings over which loomed the central government complex like a cluster of Funguars. It was connected to the rest of the city by a series of transport tubes that were brightly colored in shades of gold, red, and green. Inside were round floating platforms, carrying the citizens from one place to another. On one of them rode a young woman, lost in thought.

“Good riddance,” she sighed angrily in clipped cultured tones, her bright violet eyes glancing imperiously over the buildings flashing past, which looked blood-drenched through the tinted glass. Some of her long platinum blond hair was tied back in elaborate braids; the rest fell past her shoulders. Her dress was lavender with wide shoulders, a tight-fitting bodice, and a long skirt with lace frills. A large bag was slung from one shoulder. It was out of place in a city where most people favored skintight jumpsuits or flowing robes, but she was used to standing out. The platform came to a rest at the mouth of the tube, at the intersection with two other transport tubes. She got off and walked briskly up a blue sidewalk suspended high above the city. Ahead lay a T intersection, the left branch which led to cylindrical tower with a translucent blue Airstation on top, marked by a giant set of crosshairs. Of course, the airship was nowhere to be seen. Typical, she thought; she wanted so badly to leave this sterile metropolis behind and instead….

“Going my way Missy?” inquired a laconic voice behind her. She turned and saw a man she estimated was in his early forties. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement and what was visible of his hair and beard was black going grey. The rest of his face was concealed by a white fedora. He wore a matching white suit over a black shirt and tie. In his left hand dangled a long metal briefcase, the type used to carry sniper rifles.

“Do not address me in such a common way,” she huffed, “Either refer to me as Miss Winterbourne or don’t speak to me at all.”

“Of course,” he chuckled, “My apologies Miss Winterbourne.” They lapsed into an awkward silence. Finally her curiosity got the better of her.

“A true gentleman would have started with formal introductions first,” she began, hoping she didn’t sound too eager. He doffed his hat and made a little bow.

“Lazarus, Lazarus Almasy,” he stated in a slightly gravely voice.

“Not that Almasy?” she ventured. Lazarus gave an embarrassed wave of his hand.

“My ancestor,” he said matter-of-factly, “And would you be related to the Winterbournes of Dollet?”

“The Duke is my uncle,” she replied reflexively, having heard that question hundreds of times.

“And the Headmistress of Balamb Garden?”

“My mother,” she stated, trying her best to hide her bitterness. Lazarus seemed to pick up on it.

“What is your name then?” he offered as a way of changing the subject.

“Artemis,” she said simply. She offered her hand and he took it and raised it to his lips.

“Enchanted my dear,” he added with an impish smirk.

Just then they heard the whine of distant engines. A giant red aircraft with silver trim came into view and came to a stop directly overhead. It was long with a dragon-like cockpit and four thrusters, which generated a lot of wind as it settled down onto the landing pad. Cursing softly, Lazarus stooped to retrieve his hat. Artemis giggled softly behind her hand.

“Have you ever ridden on the Ragnarok before, Mr. Almasy?” she asked as the landing ramp in the ship’s underbelly lowered.

“Just Lazarus, please,” he said as he placed his hat back on his head with as much dignity as he could muster, “And yes I have.” They walked up the black metal ramp together.

The interior of the ship had burgundy-colored walls with dark metal floors, illuminated by glowing white strips in the walls and ceiling. A young man with red hair and glasses stood at the other end of the hallway. He wore a white colored SeeD uniform with black trim and matching headband.

“Welcome aboard Miss Winterbourne!” he stated eagerly putting out his hand, “And of course, Director Almasy!” Artemis kept her arms folded across her chest while Lazarus stepped forward, offering a gloved hand of his own. She watched them shake hands with mild disdain. Still, she had to admire Lazarus for wearing gloves; at least he didn’t get his hands dirty.

“Headmistress Winterbourne extends her regards to the both of you,” he prattled, “She hopes your journey will be-.”

“Save it,” snapped Artemis as she shoved past him.

“It’s best not to mention the Headmistress in her presence,” advised Lazarus sympathetically.

“Oh excuse me,” said the young man as he pushed his glasses back up.

“Are you a full-fledged SeeD?” he inquired.

“No Sir!” said the young man, “Cadet Stefan Blake at your service!”

“Why don’t you show me to the passenger cabin, Stefan?” suggested Lazarus.

“At once sir!” he said with a snappy salute as he led him through a door into another hallway. A giant door to their right led to the bridge, but Stefan led him past to the next door down, which rose up with a loud rattle.

“Make yourself comfortable Sir,” said the young SeeD as he left, the door banging shut after him.

The room had double panoramic windows framing an elongated room with eight seats in four rows of two each. Glowing white and blue banners dangled from the ceiling. Already the Ragnarok was lifting off, leaving Esthar behind. Artemis was standing at the window peering at the city receding below her. Lazarus noticed a brown leather suitcase and a T-board decorated with a tidal wave design leaning against one of the seats; Stefan’s he guessed. Nearby lay a green knapsack and a black metallic case propped open. The foam rubber was carved in the shape of a blade with a handle and trigger at the base, but the gunblade itself was missing. He shrugged and slumped into the next seat forward, draping his hat over his face. Eventually Artemis walked to the seat across from him and threw her bag onto the chair, but did not sit down. Although relieved to be finally in the air, she did not look forward to what awaited her either.

“What sort of business do you have in Balamb Garden?” she asked eventually. Lazarus inched up his hat a notch and peered at her with his eyes still in the shadow of the brim.

“You know about the Deep Sea Research Center?” he asked. When she nodded briefly he continued: “Well the DSRC is supposed to find things.”

“And?” she prompted.

“We did,” he said trying to suppress a chuckle.

“What did you find?” she asked, “Or can you tell me?”

“Not yet,” he said regretfully, “But I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” The intercom crackled to life and they heard Stefan’s voice on the other end.

“Hold tight! I’m banking!”

They buckled their crisscrossing safety belts with circular locks as the Ragnarok executed a steep turn. Artemis looked out the side window and gasped. Lazarus followed her gaze and saw thunderclouds on the horizon. Underneath one a bright circle rained meteors down toward the ground. She quickly unbuckled her seatbelt again.

“There’s a battle going on!” she said. From up here she could make out a purple leonine monster with horns.

“Looks like Leon found himself a Behemoth,” added Stefan.

“Leon?” echoed Lazarus.

“Yeah, he’s one of our best hunters in the Garden,” added Stefan cheerfully, “His real name is Actaeon Leonhart, but he prefers to be called-.”

“Never mind about the nicknames!” yelled Artemis as she ran through the doors onto the bridge. Stefan turned from the pilots’ console.

“Is he crazy?” she demanded, “Trying to take a Behemoth by himself?”

“Don’t worry, Leon does this all the time,” suggested Stefan helpfully.

“Land this thing at once!” she commanded.

“He wouldn’t like us to interfere,” protested Stefan helplessly.

“You miserable worm!” she snarled and stormed out. Lazarus came through the doors and nearly collided with Artemis on the way out.

“I’ll handle this!” she barked as she brushed past him. Lazarus sighed deeply and took the co-pilot’s seat.

“If you want to stop her, you’d better hurry,” he advised. Stefan nodded numbly and ran out into the corridor. Artemis was emerging from the passenger deck with his T-board under an arm and her bag slung across her back.

“That’s my-,” he began.

“Out of my way!” she snapped briskly as she put on a pair of goggles. He followed her down the hallway. She pressed a switch on the side wall and the landing ramp lowered, the pressure drawing the air out noisily.

“No don’t!” he protested grabbing a handrail.

With a contemptuous glance Artemis launched herself into space. The T-board roared to life and she began spiraling down towards the ground, her arms outstretched to maintain balance. As she got closer she could make out flashes of steel and gunfire rebounding off the tough hide of the leonine creature. It had violet fur and crimson horns in a head it kept close to the ground. It slashed at the Leon with razor sharp claws that he only barely dodged. Artemis retrieved a small automatic crossbow from her bag and aimed it at the monster’s head. After firing a volley, the Behemoth roared in surprise and reared up into the air, knocking her off the T-board.

“Stupid girl!” snarled Leon, his attention now hopelessly divided. The Behemoth brought down its spiked tail and Artemis rolled out of the way just in time. Leon leveled his gunblade and fired a series of shots. The monster bellowed and collapsed onto the ground. Artemis opened her eyes and looked up at the young man with emerald-colored eyes that glared angrily down at her. He had dark brown hair that he wore shoulder length. A white SeeD uniform similar to Stefan’s adorned his frame while a spiked gunblade rested casually against his shoulder.

“Get up,” growled Leon. She slowly got to her feet.

“Fine way to talk to someone who just saved your life!” she snapped. Wordlessly he lowered the gunblade so it was aimed directly between her eyes. She took a fearful step back.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. From behind her she heard the stirrings of the dying Behemoth. Leon pressed the trigger and she saw a flash of steel. She felt a warm spray as the Behomoth screamed and crashed back onto the ground behind her. Artemis saw a chain extending from the gunblade past her head; the blade had missed her by a hair’s width. Leon pressed a lever and chain retracted, drawing the blade back into the gun. Numbly Artemis noted with a shudder violet droplets covering her face and clothes.

“Never get between a predator and his prey,” he muttered as he wiped the blood off his blade. She glanced back at the fallen Behemoth. It lay on its side, looking strangely peaceful. She ran a hand over its surprisingly soft fur; then she began to shiver uncontrollably, slumping to her knees.

A thunderclap burst on the horizon as the Ragnarok landed nearby. Small raindrops began to fall as Leon retrieved the T-board. He looked up to see Stefan running towards him, followed by Lazarus.

“Senior Leonheart!” called out Stefan, out of breath.

“Just Leon,” countered Leon, “Your T-board.”

“Thanks,” he said vaguely as he inspected the scratches.

As the rain began to fall harder Lazarus walked over to Artemis and removed his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

“Come on now,” he said reassuringly. She weakly got to her feet, tears gathering in her eyes. As they reached Leon she suddenly swung back her hand and slapped his across the face. Leon stared impassively back at her, the rain cooling his aching cheek. After they left Leon turned to Stefan.

“We’ll come back for Behemoth carcass later,” he instructed.

“That was the Headmistress’ daughter you almost killed,” breathed Stefan.

“It was her fault for getting in the way,” said Leon moodily, “I was doing fine on my own there.”

“You shouldn’t endanger yourself with these silly safaris,” protested Stefan, “The Garden needs you for more important things.”

“Don’t start lecturing me too,” said Leon with a faint sigh. Stefan gulped and nodded.

“Well, let’s hurry then,” he suggested.

After crossing over the Great Salt Lake, the Ragnarok emerged out of the storm clouds over the open ocean. Slowly a lumbering mechanical beast came into view. It looked like a cross between a gray submarine and a whale but it was far larger than either. Balamb Garden was carried serenely across the water by a set of glowing golden rings mounted on the underside. It was surmounted by a central dome mounted on a tall round tower. Slowly a landing pad extended out of the starboard side, illuminated by track lighting and spotlights. The Ragnarok gently came to rest and the platform retracted into the side, a massive hanger bay door dropping shut behind them.

A woman was waiting for them. She was dressed in a severe grey dress with black trim, and her silvery-blond hair was gathered mercilessly tight into a bun. Her steel blue eyes peered intently at the SeeD cadets disembarking down the landing ramp, followed by their guests.

“Cadet Blake, please escort the Director to his quarters,” she instructed in an authoritative tone.

“Yes Headmistress!” said Stefan standing rigid as he gave a salute. Headmistress Constance Winterbourne caught an inquiring glance from Lazarus as he walked past, but she waited until they were gone before speaking again.

“Cadet Leonhart, please show Provisional Cadet Winterbourne to Detention Hall,” she ordered.

“For the record, I was doing fine until-,” began Leon until a withering glance from the Headmistress stopped him in his tracks.

“I was just trying to help!” countered Artemis angrily.

“You both acted rashly in ways unbecoming to SeeD,” she elaborated, “Now you both have to face the consequences.”

“What if I don’t want to become a SeeD?” demanded Artemis. Constance walked forward until they were nearly touching.

“That’s up to you,” she said, “Now go.”

Constance watched them leave and head down a circular corridor with beige colored walls, ceiling panels illuminating the blue strips in the floor. She then walked the other way, across a bridge to a central elevator. She pressed a code and the elevator traveled up a level to the third floor. Her office was on a raised metal platform covered with red carpeting, large windows providing panoramic views of the ocean in every direction. A giant oaken desk dominated the far wall.

Lounging in the chair behind the desk was Lazarus Almasy. Constance couldn’t help but smile at his audacity; he hadn’t changed at all in twenty years.

“I suppose I should be shocked at this intrusion Director,” she said mockingly as she approached the desk.

“You should really change your access codes more often, Headmistress,” he replied cheerfully, “Alas, this is a business call.”

“What did your precious DSRC dig up this time?” she inquired as he rose from the chair and reached into his jacket pocket. He retrieved a small piece of translucent plastic and laid it on the desktop. An internal light in the desk scanned the image and projected a hologram in the air before them. It was a detailed picture of a dark rock stratum that had been blasted open. Several workers were visible standing on a metal scaffold, dressed in white containment suits. Protruding out of the rock was a giant metallic chain, one end connected to rock shelf over which was a massive staircase that led to a huge set of doors flanked by thick pillars. Constance felt her blood chill but still she had to know.

“Lazarus, are you sure?” she breathed as she squinted at the image.

“I’m officially here to request the use of the Maelstrom Codex to confirm it,” he began, “But there’s really little room for doubt.”

“Don’t say it,” she said fearfully, as if something terrible could happen merely at the mention of the name.

“I’m sorry,” said Lazarus with a shake of his head, “But we’ve found Ultimecia’s Castle.”