Luck Never Gives;

It Only Lends

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII is not mine.

P.

Luck does not favour hesitation - Roman Words of Wisdom

Time: 5 years ATE (After The End)

The night air was cool against her skin, growing colder and biting deeper into her reserves with every passing moment. Flakes of gravel shot up from beneath the tires of the motorcycle, stinging the exposed parts of her body. Cool eyes, deep pools in the midnight light, stared straight ahead straining in that half light to see the small, treacherous changes in terrain that could seal her fate. Clouds drifted slowly over the moon, wrapping it in their arms like a lover, plunging the land below in darkness. A curse escaped her lips, soundless as the wind stole it away almost before it left her lips. Trusting to blind instinct, her eyes squinted against the darkness, searching for the last scraps of light to guide her way. Unconsciously calling on Shiva to enhance her sight.

Loose ground gave way beneath the tires, pulling at her, threatening to end her flight right then and there. Fighting to hold back a helpless scream, she gunned it, tires screaming for purchase on the soft ground. The loud whine of the engine and the hopeless sound of tires spinning in the air embraced her. For a split second fear washed over her, as she realised with clarity that it was over, this life was done. Then the moment passed and she was safely on the trail once more, her heart pounding, blood screaming in her ears.

BANG!

A sharp crack sounded in the background, breaking the silence of the night. To her left birds screeched a raucous call and took to the sky, black wings silhouetted in the moonlight. Her hand jerked on the handle bar, the bike immediately veering towards the left, it's tire sucked into soft, muddy earth, the remains of yesterday's puddle. Her eyes closed, desperation crossing her features, then they shot open, her eyes startling blue in the night. Determination lighting them from within. In a glance she took in her surroundings, her fears washing away, her senses sharpening, uncluttered by the mind as she reached that place. That place that heroes come to, that place that changes the tide of battle.

Suddenly the air around her had startling clarity, the calm before the storm. That perfect moment before the magic strikes you. Blue eyes narrowed in anger, and with skill born not only of innate talent but immense dedication, a blue-green light sprung up around her just as she was enveloped in a ball of lightning. Green light, that luminescent colour of magic, flared around her meeting and holding against the lightning. Still pain washed over her sense, her nerves alight with electricity, the weight of the very air around her causing tears to stand in her eyes. Her teeth gritted against the pain, muted as it was compared to what it would have been if she had not successfully cast Shell.

Even as she fought to push the pain from her mind and from her dancing limbs, bullets tore into the air around her as a incandescent blue light flared in spots, like will o the wisps, deflecting them from a mortal trajectory. Even so, her concentration wavered for a moment under the sheer pressure of the assault and hot pain flared in her arm and the pungent scent of blood filled the air. A sharp cry escaped her and the bike swerved dangerously, even as she let go of her control on this moment in time.

Her eyes closed, trusting her instincts get her over the next bit of trail, keep her safe from attack, she searched deep within herself for that part of her that was not her. She found it, nestled in memories of Trabia, and... winter at the orphanage. Clearing her mind of emotion she drew it towards herself, wrapping her awareness in that delicious feeling of cold. Like the first breath of life on a cold winter morning. Icy energy, cold as the frozen wastes of Trabia, raced through her igniting her blood, sharpening her senses.

Snap!

With a jerk she was aware of her surroundings again. Eyes narrowed in concentration, the engine revved hot, the countryside blurring to an indistinct grey. Even in the light of day this would be suicide, here in the bitter darkness of night it was her last chance. She had to escape. Her life could not end here, on the cold plains surrounding Deling City. Her bloody thrummed with the steel of cold ice, and with that ice ran strength quickening her reflexes, sharpening them beyond the mortal kin. With that quickening of senses that accompanied the stirring of a Guardian Force, came a desperate kind of bravery. One that made her consider the craziest things, and beyond that, one that made her believe they could work. A defiant smirk curved her lip upwards as she came to the lip of the hill.

Below it and approaching at an alarming rate was a rope and wood plank bridge. She didn't slow her speed, she needed every fraction of second she could gain, she needed more time between her and her pursuers. Everything depended on it. She descended the hill at breakneck speed, her preternatural reflexes saving her from disaster time and time again. Before she had time to think, the rope bridge was ahead of her. This was it, the moment that could break her.

Her speed did not slow, it increased and with a wild squeal of wheels she left the ground and burned over the bridge somehow managing to keep her seat as the bridge swayed erratically underneath her. As soon as the tires hit solid ground on the other side of the dark chasm, the bike spun alarmingly collapsing onto the ground and sliding away leaving flecks of navy paint in its wake. It's rider jumped, spun in the air somehow managing to land on her feet with a distinctly feline grace. Breathing hard, she leapt to the wooden post and with a boot knife began hacking at the thick rope, desperation and icy strength fuelling her. Moments later she began work on it's pair, a new sound broke through the night, the high whine of engines. Growing ever louder, coming ever closer. Blocking out the noise, she sawed harder on the rope. Icy satisfaction filling her as it dropped away into the darkness.

She straightened after returning the knife to her boot, as the roar of engines drew nearer and twin lights crested the hill. She drew in deep breaths, a grimly triumphant smile lighting her features as the yellow glow of headlights drew closer. As her silhouette was outlined against the night by those lights, she coolly drew her standard SeeD issue semi-automatic and fired two shots. The lights went out, and as they did two voices cried out in terror as they felt the ground disappear beneath them and the beginning of a desperate fall. Their screams ended abruptly.

With a curt nod of satisfaction, she retrieved her bike and sped down the gravel path lit by dim moonlight. She had won, there was still hope. She just had to reach him. A hysterical laugh escaped her as she realised just who it was that they were going to have to rely on, to save them all. The world had gone to hell, and Seifer Almasy might just be the one to save them all.

End P.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this. Please review!