Chapter Text
Before the curtain opens, you can hear two voices talking, completely disembodied.
A man’s voice says, “I’ll be here…” It hangs in the air for a moment.
A woman replies, “Why…?”
“I’ll be waiting here…”
“For what?”
“I’ll be waiting… for you… so… if you come here… you will find me. I promise.”
The curtain opens to a completely black stage. A spotlight suddenly shines on the middle of the stage, where Edea stands, arms outstretched, eyes closed. Slowly, very methodically and with a strange strain, she raises her arms, drawing a sort of circle with them, the left hand clockwise, the right counterclockwise until her arms cross over her chest. She pauses, and then with the same effortful kind of movement, sends her arms down and back. She now stands still and prone facing the audience with her palms open. She opens her eyes.
She begins to speak slowly and intentionally but with little affect. “This is a tale of fated children, of a succession of witches, of time, and space, and memories... It is even a tale of love.
“Time is a line. We proceed from the past, into the present, and then into the future. There is no pausing, there is no opportunity to alter what we have done. And yet… A clock is circular. A time comes once, and then it comes again, and again. We are all trapped in the same loop, destined to repeat the past, into the present, and once more in the future.
"But time, it does not wait… It slips away from you…”
Edea’s expression becomes distant, as though she is looking far past the audience. In a more demanding voice, she calls:
“Wake from your sleep, my children! The childhood years are gone… Wake from your sleep, fated children! Your rest is gone.
“Arise! Search! Discover the true Garden! The garden of vernal truth… Fiery truth. Burn the evil of the world! Fiery truth. Light the darkness of the world!
“Prevail, children… In the fated days.”
As she recites this, “Liberi Fatali” begins to play, softly at first but becomes louder. The lights slowly come up toward the end of the monologue, to reveal two men sword-fighting behind her. The set is rocky terrain, and the screen at the back of the stage displays a stormy sky. Edea descends on a platform below the stage.
The battle is finally in full focus at [1:30] of Liberi Fatali. Squall pulls his gunblade out of the ground and rushes toward Seifer, who is smirking cockily and holding his own gunblade aloft at this opponent. Squall slashes aggressively but Seifer meets his blade and laughs. He toys with Squall for a moment before pushing him back. Squall stumbles. The men circle each and take a few steps back.
Now Seifer rushes forward, smiling as he does so, appearing arrogant. Squall runs forward with the intention of meeting Seifer’s blade. Seifer skids to a stop and turns away. He whips back around quickly and uses the momentum to land a powerful blow against Squall’s blade. Their swords cross overhead.
In sync, these fighters, who have clearly faced each other before, lurch forward, causing their blades to chafe and spark. As though it is all a dance, they circle around each other and their crossed swords, ultimately switching places on the stage. Squall tries to land a blow, but Seifer quickly twirls away to dodge. Squall swings again and Seifer parries. Seifer moves quickly around Squall, causing Squall to miss again, swinging over Seifer’s head. When Squall turns back to look at Seifer, Seifer is crouched down, his sword behind him, and an outstretched hand beckoning Squall forward. He has a smug smile on his face.
The men reengage and trade blows, each blocking or dodging in turn. Squall finally manages to angle a downward blow over Seifer’s head. Seifer meets Squall’s gunblade with the side off his own, but Squall has the advantage for a moment. Seifer sneers and pushes Squall back again and the duo continues their vicious duel. They seem evenly matched.
Squall, who had been silent, stoic, and deep in concentration during the battle so far, starts to go berserk. His careful movements are now explosive and with each slash he cries out in fury. Seifer is not expecting this. He manages to block Squall, but this flurry of hits leaves Seifer frustrated.
The now exasperated Seifer yells, “Enough!” He slashes widely but Squall jumps back. Once he has his footing, Squall swings his blade in his hand to position it, so it is dragging behind him. He runs forward with his left palm outstretched.
Seifer laughs again and lifts his own left palm. The screen on the back of the stage lights up to illustrate that Seifer is shooting fire out of his hand. When the animated fire reaches Squall, he is knocked backward.
Squall, surprised by the sudden use of magic, struggles to regain his composure and stand. Seifer looks down at his training partner and smiles wickedly as he lifts his blade. Squall has a look of terror as Seifer, a wild man at this moment, uses the tip of his gunblade to tear the flesh of Squall’s face. Squall screams and blood pours from the wound.
It only takes a few seconds for Squall to react. He roars as he stands and plants his left foot. The music swells as he uses both arms to drag the tip of his blade across the ground in an arc, that eventually meets with Seifer’s face. The men now have wounds that exactly mirror each other’s.
The music cuts as the lights on stage suddenly go out. It is silent and dark for a few beats until there is the sound of a single note on a piano. The screen fades in displaying the Final Fantasy VIII logo.