Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII or any characters.

The Price We Pay

Introduction

I do not know where to begin. All that I know is I must hurry. I am a demon; one of the damned who lives in Hell. The land of fire and brimstone is forever my domain.

But I do not care to speak of Hell any longer. I must flee soon. I am a traitor; I will be hunted until I am eliminated. I solemnly wonder, as the pen glides across the paper, why I did not think to write this sooner. As my memories and dreams, along with my chances to live, begin to fade I feel I must write down all that has happened to me. This starts as my story, but quickly will converge with one other's.

This is not a story of good and evil, for no one should have to judge such things. For what is right to one may be wrong to another. No, this is a story of many stories. This is a story about the choices that many beings made and how it affected others in my eyes and in another's.

How shall I truly begin? This story that I write is not only about me; it is about her. She was an angel in every possible meaning of the word. She lived only where angels could: Heaven. She was second in command only to Edea, who rules to this day. Her face will always remain with me, even as all other memories and images fade. You must surely know of who I speak. I am certain that you have seen her at some point in time. She is the subject of many paintings. I am not surprised. She was an angel, fair in face and form. But she was blessed more than any other angel I have ever seen.

She was my muse. Clearly I am not the only one inspired by her beauty and glory. There are many depictions from famous artists. And even as I write about her, I know that neither mortal words, nor pictures can capture her in all that she truly is. I have seen few portrayals that come close to showing her. Many portray her in flowing robes of white and silver, sometimes even gold. The pearl and pure white illustrations are most common. She is always wearing white slippers in every painting I have seen. Her dainty feet often have ribbons from these slippers tied up her legs. Her ebony tresses are often loose, cascading in a thick, perfect mass down to her back. Her hair ended just above the place where her wings protruded from her back, I believe. I can still remember what it felt like. Her porcelain skin glows ever so brightly in the paintings, but nothing can capture how she really looked.

My personal favorite portrait, one that I saw ages ago as I wandered the Mortal Realm, is in fact sitting with me as a write. When I saw it, I had to have it. I carry it even now, as I cannot bear to be without it. She is wearing a long, flowing gown of amber and gold, with a long train trailing behind her. Her wings and arms are outstretched, as if she welcomes all poor creatures of the realms. Her raven hair is piled atop her head, small diamonds and other hairpieces holding it in place, each shining with its own light. Her eyes are closed, which is a shame, for she had such beautiful eyes. Her thin, rosy lips are turned into a serene smile so inviting it feels as though one could jump into the painting along with her. Even my words and this picture cannot do her justice.

This is her story more than it is mine. She was much more worthy of such lengthy words than I ever was. Everything after we met I will write down exactly as she said it. It is the least I can do. My memory has not faded so much that I cannot remember her exact words. I feel that if even one word is incorrect, I should injure myself for slighting her perfection in such a way. My story is not important, but I will explain events leading up to our meeting from my own view, for I do not know of hers and have no way of obtaining such information. Oh that I could gaze upon her face once more…

As I conclude this introduction, it must be mentioned that I, Squall Leonheart, must now take a spectators view. I feel I must write this story as though seeing it unfold for the first time. I think she would have had it that way.

Oh Rinoa… Now I must write the things I wish never to forget. Forgive me, for the others will be forever chasing me. I may not have enough of a chance to finish this. I will try to finish for you, my dearly beloved. Once again I must run for you, and I would run forever if it would bring you to me. Alas, I must conclude this beginning, and start now where the story should truly begin.

To all those reading, good luck; I hope your story never sounds like mine.

-Squall Leonheart

High Demon Knight Under the Command of Seifer Almasy