Author's Note: Hello there. This chapter is a bit long, sorry about that! Thank you to Dead Pollen for the review, I really appreciate it!

I also feel the need to state now that this will NOT be a Rinoa=Ultimecia themed story. I just had to let you guys know now as I'm aware that certain parts of it may make it seem like that's what this story is approaching – but it is not. Also, I feel the need to say that this will have canon pairings. I promise you I will try to make it worth the wait. Enough of me – enjoy, and thank you for reading.

They are together, in the fields of Balamb. Its night time and the sky is nothing but a velvet blanket scattered with diamonds. The pearl moon hangs lazily overhead, bathing both of them with a soft glow. Her skin is cream porcelain and her hair is ink, spilling over her shoulders. The contrast only makes her seem more alive, or perhaps dead, depending on whether or not it's a nightmare. Sometimes the dream switches so fast, he can't even take note.

She smiles at him, and his breath is taken away for a moment; he is so tranquil, so peaceful that he can hardly believe the moment is real, that he's alive. She takes his hand, and rests her heavy head against his shoulder. "It's almost time."

"Time for what?" he murmurs back sleepily; something about the orb in the sky makes him feel weak, dizzy and drained. It's the only thing that he despises about this place, but the stars make it all worth it. And she likes it here. That fact alone renders him defenceless; he has no choice but to be here.

"For you to die, Squall," she coos, but it's no longer her – it's a winged devil, and the voice is distorted, a black hole. He is weak, he can't fight it. Storm-blue eyes meet liquid gold helplessly, drawn in by gravity, a pull it was futile to resist.

Everything is suffocating blackness. The pressure on his lungs makes it impossible to breathe, and slowly, excruciatingly, he realizes he is being crushed. At that moment everything breaks and the sound of his splintering bones is left behind, drowned out by his agonizing scream.

He sits up in bed, drenched in sweat, shivering with a fear that's become a regular fever these nights. He is lost for a moment, and then he remembers: it was all a dream. Just a variation of the same dream that had been haunting him the past few weeks. The raven haired beauty was elusive and mysterious; Squall felt as if he knew her, but he just couldn't place who she was. It was distressing to dream of her every night – sometimes to see her murdered by an angry mob as he watched helplessly, or to have her turn into a demon in front of his horrified eyes – yet be completely lost to who she really was. Every now and then, the dream would remain quiet, beautiful, for its entirety, but lately those had become few and far between.

He threw a weary glance at the neon numbers glowing in the dark of his room. Four a.m. Restlessly, he sank back into the pillows for another attempt at sleep.

"Yo, Squall!"

Bang, bang, bang.

"Ugh..." bleakly rubbing his eyes, Squall squinted at the door of his dorm room menacingly. There was only one person who would feel the need to come to his room at seven A.M on a Saturday, and he wasn't particularly in the mood...

"C'monnnnnn man! The hotdogs aren't going to save themselves!"

Yawning into his hand, Squall stumbled towards the door and opened it. Zell, his exuberant and hyperactive friend, stood there with a toothy grin.

"Zell, it's seven in the morning. Don't you think it's a bit...early for hotdogs?"

"It's never too early for hotdogs, man!" Zell practically growled. "Get changed so we can goooooo!"

"Alright, whatever," Squall muttered, annoyed. "Give me a few minutes." Then he slammed the door in Zell's face.

"Tch, so grumpy in the morning," Zell grumbled, feeling slightly dejected. How someone could honestly believe that there was such a thing as too early for hotdogs boggled his mind. "Hey..." he said to the closed door, suddenly. "Did you hear about Seifer?"

"No," came the muffled response. Zell could hear the finality in that one word, even through the closed door. Well, Squall could be as grumpy as he wanted to. He was still going to share this bit of information.

"Cid finally got him bailed out of D-District Prison. Sent Quistis to get him. She had to pose as his fiancé," Zell chortled.

Finally Squall opened the door, dressed now in his regular clothing and ready to go.

"They'll be back in a couple of days," Zell added. "So it should be interesting to see the punishment Seifer gets for screwing up this time."

"Who cares," Squall muttered as they headed towards the cafeteria.

Seifer and Squall had never exactly been close, and that was a nice way of putting it. It seemed that no matter what Squall was doing – training, reading, doing detention – Seifer had a way of showing up and doing his very best to make the experience about a thousand times worse for Squall.

He was competitive and cocky, charismatic and ambitious. It was a startling contrast to Squall's quiet energy, his shy and withdrawn personality. Both were excellent fighters – trained at Garden since a young age. Each of them worked to master the gunblade, an articulate sword paired with the ability to shoot bullets.

"Wonder where Selphie is," Zell mused as they made their way into the cafeteria.

"Probably still asleep," Squall replied, glaring at Zell.

"O-Oh yeah, it is pretty early!" Zell laughed, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. "It's okay, man," he promised, "you'll thank me for this the moment you taste one of those delicious hotdogs."

"...In other news, the attacks on residents of Timber are escalating. Owl News has received reports of a house bombing that occurred earlier this morning. A middle aged man and his younger daughter were rushed to hospital with life-threatening injuries. The daughter remains in stable condition in the ICU. President Deling assures the public that the Galbadian military is investigating these attacks, and urges anyone with information to call the special hotline at-"

Quistis Trepe let out a sigh as she turned down the radio, shaking her head. So President Deling had finally acknowledged the carnage that was engulfing Timber. The attacks had been happening for weeks now, although originally the media had attempted to keep things under the radar. Lately everything in Galbadia was thrown into chaos; Deling had been behaving more and more erratically, passing ridiculous laws and executing anyone he believed was a threat to his leadership. There were rumours that Deling had partnered with the Sorceress, although once he had caught wind of these rumours he forbad people from discussing it. Being found guilty of spreading rumours of Deling fraternizing with the Sorceress was now punishable by jail time.

Quistis found herself glancing out the window for some sign of Seifer. She was extremely frustrated at the fact that war could potentially break out any moment, and she was stuck here looking after Seifer.

Finally he appeared in her line of vision, exiting the store carrying a large bag of groceries. He smiled and waved at her, and she grinned back, waving.

"Hello my dearest," he says, getting in the passenger seat and giving her a peck on the lips.

"Hello, darling," she replies, smiling sweetly at him. "Did you find everything?"

"Yeah, we're ready to go," he says, pulling on his seat belt.

"Alright." Turning back on the engine, Quistis slowly guides them out of the parking lot and back to the Deling hotel. It's late afternoon and the sweltering heat slowly begins to subside, much to Quistis' relief. Seifer glances at her every now and then, and she gives him an angelic smile. Sometimes he blows a kiss and she giggles. To the residents of Deling who noticed them, they looked like any happily engaged couple – deeply in love.

Once they were safely inside their suite, however, things change. Quistis turns to Seifer with a severe expression on her face. "Things are getting worse. You really picked a hell of a time to get thrown in jail, Seifer."

"I was helping a friend," Seifer scowls, violently flinging his coat onto the coach. The hotel, decorated in shades of red and velvet, was a welcome change from the confines of his grey and bleak cell at D-District Prison.

"Well, your helping a friend came at the cost of involving Garden in this mess! Hyne, Seifer...do you even know what's going on?" She's frustrated, exasperated.

"I understand, Instructor. Maybe even better than you do," he sneers. His voice is dry, sarcastic. He moves like a caged animal; still unsure of where to go, agitated and restless. His emerald eyes glitter dangerously, and suddenly Quistis is aware he already has a plan and is determined to carry it out.

"What are you planning, Seifer?" she asks then, and her voice is cautious.

He smirks at her – mischievous again, playful. "Don't worry about it, dearest. If everything goes as planned, this war will be over before it's even begun," he promises.

The heat and smog in Deling are unbearable, even as the day winds down and the sun begins to set. She misses her comfortable, air-conditioned bedroom already – but she can't go back there.

So instead she turns the corner and heads towards Deling Hotel. She needs a quiet place to sit, have a drink, and figure out what to do next. She hadn't been able to contact Seifer all morning, and when she finally got through to the Prison they informed her that he was no longer being held. He was released on bail, in the custody of his fiancé. Rinoa had hoped that he could try contacting her by calling her on her cell, but she didn't hear anything yet. Seifer and his "fiancé" probably had to keep up the facade in case they were being followed.

But as if on cue, her phone rings. Whipping it out from her purse, she recognizes the name that flashes across the screen and her heart thumps. "Seifer?"

"Hey, mom," comes the casual reply.

Rinoa chuckles. "I'm so glad you're alright," she breathes, relieved. "What's going on?"

"Quistis came and picked me up. I've been released on bail. We'll be heading back to Balamb tomorrow morning."

"Oh," she murmurs, hit by a sudden wave of disappointment. Of course he's going back. "So...I won't be seeing you soon?" She tries to keep the sudden despair from her voice.

"We're taking a train there. For the meantime, we're staying at the Deling Hotel. Now, before you even ask, I'm fine, Mom!"

"You're...you're in Deling?" She squeaks, elated.

She hears him try to suppress a laugh; her childlike enthusiasm always seemed to amuse him. "Yes, yes. I am a little embarrassed though. We had to use Quistis' name when we registered, since all my credit cards were confiscated." He sighed. "Well Mom, I'm going to go get a drink at the bar. Don't worry, I'll call you when we've arrived in Balamb tomorrow evening. Talk to you then."

"See you soon!" She exclaims before hanging up.

She hurries down the street towards the hotel, the heat all but forgotten completely. Seifer was here. She was seeing him now.

Before she knows it, she's standing in the cool lobby of the hotel. Goosebumps run down her exposed legs; the rush of cold is a sudden shock to her senses. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a tall figure. Then she recognizes the broad shoulders, the golden hair. Before she even knows what she's doing, she's run towards him, her arms encircling his neck tightly, her face buried in his chest. He smells warm and sweet, clean like vanilla soap and faint cologne. He is surprised but pleased by her response, and he silently, tightly hugs her back. They stand like that for a few moments before he kisses her forehead and slings his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go," he says to her gently, his stance protective, although they're safe here. But she likes knowing that she's safe with him, and so they stroll silently, subtly, downstairs towards the bar.

Any outsider looking at Quistis would automatically assume that she was some sort of model, or perhaps an aspiring actress. Certainly not a member of SeeD, the elite mercenary forces of Garden. What they didn't know was just how intelligent she was behind her cerulean eyes, or just how dangerous her delicate hands really were. Now she leans against the wall of the hotel, enjoying the sound of traffic across the Deling streets, taking a moment just to breathe. It was so different from Garden, here in the city. Flashing signs with golden lights enticed visitors to come inside and spend their money at venues lining the streets. A hot dog vendor was cooking up some wieners for a couple of customers, the smell deliciously warm and comforting.

It was hard to believe that at any moment, this jovial atmosphere could be shattered – tainted with the taste of blood and war. It was a shadow looming over the horizon, a city threatened to be swallowed whole by a power-hungry fiend.

The Sorceress.

Quistis shivered. Suddenly, the beautiful city didn't seem as welcoming as it had moments ago. What she would give to be happily oblivious, like the civilians laughing and talking as they strolled by her. Lighting up a cigarette, she decided she would call Cid and get it over with. It wasn't a conversation she particularly wanted to have, but she had no choice in the matter.

Squall gave a sigh of relief as the Grat fell, leaving the ground and his gunblade stained with disgusting green juice. Having a couple of hours by himself in the training center always relaxed him. His body was calculating, efficient; a practiced killer on auto-pilot. Concentrating on the attack and on defending himself distracted him from the dreams that troubled him every night. And he needed to be distracted. The dark-haired girl seemed to preoccupy his thoughts every waking moment. It was amazing, he thought, how her face was so clear to him in his dreams, but upon waking it became blurred, skewed. All he could recall was the heap of black hair, and that wasn't much help.

Suddenly, the familiar ding of the P.A system interrupted his thoughts. "This is the Headmaster. I request the presence of SeeD squad 287b in my office immediately. Thank you."

Squall sighed, wiping his gunblade on a patch of green grass. That was him Cid was looking for. Another mission already? He wondered as he left the training center. I wonder where I'll be stationed this time.

Arriving in Cid's office, Squall found the other two members of his squad, Zell and Selphie, already there.

"Ah, Squall, there you are," said Cid pleasantly. He was a kindly-looking man, short with a bit of a belly. He looked more like a teacher than the commander of hundreds of mercenaries.

Squall saluted formally, Zell and Selphie following suit.

"At ease," Cid says, turning to a folder of documents on his desk. "I called you here today to inform you of your next mission." He cleared his throat, and then turned back to his three students, a serious look on his face.

"As you know, the state of Galbadia has been thrown into distress lately. There are reports that Deling is losing his mind, or is under the control of the Sorceress. His actions have been erratic and senseless. Timber is suffering as a result, as nothing is really being done to stop the terrorist attacks that are now occurring more and more frequently. I received word today that the death toll has been put to 100 civilians and 40 soldiers of the Galbadian military. You three will be heading to Deling City to gather information concerning the state of affairs within the government. It was never my intention for Garden to get so involved in Galbadia's recent troubles, but anything regarding the Sorceress must be taken seriously by us." Straightening up, Cid handed the folder of papers to Squall. "In here contains your aliases – social insurance numbers, various forms of I.D, etcetera. While you will be under the guise of being civilians, it is imperative that you remain cautious and alert for any hostility you encounter. The Galbadians may be expecting us, and as a result you should be equipped with GFs at all times. I understand that for you, Squall, and you, Selphie, carrying your weapons may be impossible."

"When do we leave?" Selphie piped up.

"You will leave the day after tomorrow. Seifer and Quistis will be returning tomorrow evening, and they may have valuable information for us. I'd like to hear what they say before the three of you leave. Any questions?"

"Do you really believe the Sorceress is behind this, sir?" Zell asked. "She hasn't been seen or heard from for years."

Cid paused. "I cannot say for sure, Zell. But that is precisely what you're going to find out." Nodding at the three of them sombrely, Cid cleared his throat. "Dismissed."