A/N: I offer you my newest fic! I'm not quite sure how far this'll go; I suppose it depends on feedback and me not getting writer's block. Not much happens in this chapter, mostly just background information you should be aware of. There's a lot I don't like/am bothered by about this chapter, but there's also a lot I do like. So, hopefully it'll all balance out. Please read, and I really do appreciate reviews :D
Disclaimer: Squaresoft owns all of the characters except the ones I make up.
The Scorpion's Bite
by ArashiKishu
The Headmaster of Balamb Garden was settled in his armchair, carved from the finest cedar and covered in the most elegant, sleek-looking leather. Positioned in front of him was an enormous desk, which was always rather disorganized. Maps and diagrams, as well as countless SeeD files were sprawled across the length of the table. Books and portfolios were stacked high in an untidy manner, not to mention several pens and pencils - some that had even been out of ink or broken for a long period of time - obscured by the many crumpled pieces of paper that were most likely rough drafts to government-related business.
The man hardly noticed the mess, though, for he was too deep in thought over the letter in his hands, the letter than he had already read over ten times. His eyes loomed over the piece of parchment once again; the delicate lines and curves of the ink read out:
Headmaster-
It is with my deepest apologies that I must resign from this Garden. For the past several years of my life I have had the great honor of serving this elite academy of fine instructors and students. SeeD has been my life, my triumph, something that I can be proud of forever and always.
Unfortunately, I feel that it is time for me to relinquish my title as SeeD. This is in no way the fault of Garden; I just feel that personally, I need to move on in life. I intend to keep in contact with Garden often.
I will miss everyone greatly. I thank Hyne that I have had the wonderful opportunity to be a SeeD, and I will never forget my experience.
Sincerely,
Quistis Trepe
Sighing, Cid placed the letter back on the desk and took a long sip of lukewarm coffee, the words in the letter still encircling in his mind. Deepest apologies...great honor...my triumph...move on...never forget...
He had just lost one of his best SeeD. And in a way, he had also just lost a daughter.
Old memories surfaced, of little children running wildly through the tall grass surrounding a quaint little home, wearing cute dresses and overalls Matron had sewn herself.
They were all so innocent back then. Every little thing made them smile, laugh and giggle. He chuckled to himself. They really were beautiful children, even if they weren't his own.
Absently thumbing the edge of the letter, Cid wondered whether Quistis had been entirely truthful when saying it wasn't Garden's fault. He was well aware of the fact that the school had a way of secluding people from the rest of the world. Quistis had made SeeD earlier than any other child, forced to act as an adult sooner than she should of had to.
She was unlike the others in so many ways.
"Dear," a beautiful, dark-haired woman wearing the most charming smile interrupted his thoughts. "Have a cup of hot tea, will you? That coffee looks cold." She walked over to him and placed a small, floral designed teacup in front of him. The fragrant scent of chamomile was too wonderful. Taking a small sip, he began to speak.
"Where do you think she will go?" he inquired.
His wife seemed to consider this for a few moments before giving Cid a warm, comforting smile. "You know Quisty, she can take care of herself."
"I know...but I worry, that's all," he sighed.
"Me too...but I have a feeling that whatever Quistis decides to do, she'll be all right."
. . .
An angry blonde-haired woman paced back and forth in her hotel room, occasionally muttering a few indistinct words aloud, waving her hands around wildly, as if she was speaking to some invisible person.
'Great move, Quis. Now your jobless and alone.'
Technically though, Quistis had enough money from SeeD that would last a very long time. She of coarse knew that. But what was she supposed to do, sit around all day and watch the air go by?
Her letter of resignation from SeeD was rather hasty. She really hadn't planned it out like most other things she did, she only knew that she had to get away. It wasn't anything personal against Garden, really, it was her own fault.
There were only so many times one could wake up every morning just to greet the cheerful faces of those who had someone. Someone or something special. It wasn't that Quistis was jealous; she just felt...out of place.
Quistis had had something special, but that was taken away from her.
At Garden, Quistis had always had a reputation of being untouchable, too prim and proper for her own good. People conversed with her often, but they never really bothered to get to know her. She supposed no one had ever gotten to know the real Quistis Trepe.
But who was the real Quistis Trepe, anyway?
That was the real problem. She didn't know who she was. And that was why she had left.
Pausing to gaze out the open window in her room, she noticed the beautiful cerulean sky that was covered in a thick blanket of stars, which were dulled in appearance due to the bright streetlights below. The crepuscular night was completely mesmerizing.
Near the hotel, she noted a little tavern, which was just suave enough in image to be laudable.
Chewing on her bottom lip, a habit she possessed since her childhood, Quistis grabbed her coat and purse, and walked out the door, closing it behind her.
'Maybe the real Quistis Trepe likes alcohol,' she mused thoughtfully.
. . .
'This stuff tastes like crap,' she thought vapidly, as she tried to hide her disgust.
She'd been sitting in a cozy little booth enjoying the sereneness of the place. Actually, it was quite a nice little pub, unlike the other ones she had been in while on a mission. Those had been loud and rowdy, with deafening music and foolish men. However, this tavern had a very skilled pianist, who sat perched on a small bench, fingers moving gracefully across the keys, the pleasant sound flowing throughout the small room.
In fact, Quistis was so entranced that she failed to notice the man that was now sitting across from her in the booth.
"Quistis Trepe, I presume."
Her head jerked up while a small gasp of air left her throat.
The man in front of her was roughly in his thirties. He wore a short, black leather coat and dark jeans that complemented his ebony-hued hair, which was spiked and had a few flecks of gray in it.
Before she could open her mouth to speak, he began, "Victor Hayes." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, folded piece of paper and handed it to her.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
"No, but I know you. I've done some research, and I'd like to offer you a job. It's entirely optional of coarse, however, if you're interested, go to the address on that piece of paper tomorrow at 1800 hours."
Still very confused, Quistis looked down and began to unfold the sheet of paper. There was, indeed, an address written down. Slowly bringing her head up, she asked, "what exact kind of work-" but the rest of her words died on her lips as she realized that the man in the leather coat was no longer there.
To Be Continued…
Seifer wasn't in this chapter, but he will most likely be in the next, if there is, in fact, a next. Eh, I hope some of you are happy with this chapter! Oh and…the title does have meaning, just not right now. Thanks!
- ArashiKishu