Author's notes: This FFIV story centering on Golbez and Edward could be called a sequel to the "Three Sides of the Moon" trilogy. However, I wrote "could" because it is not necessary by any means to have read my other stories to understand this one. Anyway – have fun with the story: I know I had fun writing it… All FF4 characters are of course the property of Square/Enix. However, if you want to use my original characters like Tristan or Leah, please ask first.

~Titania

The Colour of the Soul

Prologue:

Black and white

Black and white… Amidst the wide white fields, a black speck was wandering. There was no path, however, the speck did notseem lost, but seemed to aim for a certain destination.

Still, even if it had a destination, it seemed to be out of place in the winter landscape; the two young boys who were playing in the snow thought so too, and watched the black silhouette approaching with big eyes.

Slowly, the dark pointtook one more step and revealed a tall man, with long black hair flowing freely down a black cape, which nearly went to the ground. The face of the man stood in stark contrast to his dark hair and clothes--it was pale, nearly white, with haughty, but not unattractive features.

Now, the man's two dark blue eyes, which were framed by two distinctive eyebrows, had spotted the children and his thin, but very sharply formed lips curved into the strangest of smiles; mocking, bitter and knowing at the same time. The two boys had long before given up their play to watch the man, however the former look of curiosity on their faces became more and more nervous with every step the figure came closer, accompanied by a frightful force, something dark not only in appearance but in feel, something dull and gloomy which blackened the bright snow under and the blue sky above them.

Just now, the man had nearly reached the two youths, but, after what seemed like a moment of hesitation, changed his direction to circle around them. However, in that moment one of the boys seemed to loose whatever rigidity had possessed him and he stepped in the way of theman with a look of nervousness, but also raw anger on his face.

His friend was less courageous, and looked like he would faint any minute.

The dark-clad man stopped, a faint sigh escaping his still smiling lips and he looked down on the flaxen haired boy before him, who was staring at him defiantly.

The whole body of the boy was trembling. "You… you can't go any farther…"

"Why not?" the man spoke calmly, though the sound of his words seemed to linger in the air long after he had ended and made it clear what strength lay in his deep voice.

"Because we don't want people like you in where I live…" the boy snarled.

"So this is the way to town, after all…" the man said softly, more to himself than to the children.

The obvious ignorance of the man before him seemed to enrage the flaxen haired boy more and in a fit of bravery he hissed, "I know that you're the fiend Golbez!"

The man slowly raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "Oh, is that so?"

"Come on, let's go…" the other little boy was now begging his companion; the man before him was definitely scaring him.

However, his friend would not listen. "My dad said that you killed many people." However, there was already a tremble in his voice.

Something seemed to stir in the man, but his outer appearance was still calm. "Your father seems to be a very wise man." The smile on his lips vanished. "Then he has possibly also told you how easy it is for two boys like you to get lost in the wilderness. No witnesses, no shelter--anything could happen to you…" His eyes narrowed. "Maybe you should go home now." It sounded like an order and one which the smaller of the two boys followed promptly, uttering little screams and sobs while running away as fast as he could.

The defense of the other boy was swaying as well; it took the man only a step forward in the child's direction to cause the youth to run away in a similar fashion as his friend had done. However, his sobbing was even louder...

Slowly, the eyebrow of the man went down and a look of exhaustion settled on his face. "Will this never stop?" he mumbled softly, only to answer himself with, "of course it won't…" The answer seemed to please him and for a moment the look of exhaustion was replaced by one of contentment. The people feared him, disdained him; it was something he was used to, something he had gotten used to, maybe gotten used to too much, as the hostility of other people seemed no longer to move him at all… It did no longer hurt him, like it had done at first, nor did it satisfy him, as it had done once, as well… In fact he no longer seemed to care. He tried to picture the flaxen haired boy before his eyes, but all he could remember was another nameless face gazing at him in disgust and fear and he couldn't even figure out how he felt about it. With a little bitter laugh, he resumed his walk.

"I wish my thoughts and fears would become clearer to me…" he thought, "Like--" he gazed down to his black boots stomping through the snow. "Clear like black and white--everything would be so easy if just these two colours existed. Black and white, good and evil, right and wrong, guilt and innocence."

By now, the colourful roofs of a little fishing village came into view.

"Things are never that easy. The only thing sure that life grants me is the guilt I have to carry…" And, as the town neared and he saw a red chimney peeking out into the sky there, and the green gate there, he thought that any colour was better than the one that seemed to fill his whole being:

Because if a soul could have a colour, his would be grey.