The blessed insensibility that sleep brought was short-lived; nightmarish images started whirling about in a confusing kaleidoscope as his mind, freed of his conscious control, attempted to make sense of the last few hours. Or maybe days. The Gods only knew. He remembered very little; he'd been unconscious for much of it. All he recalled, vaguely, were unsettled, chaotic visions of the very fabric of reality suddenly becoming as fluid and viscous as taffy.

A flash of ice-blue eyes and a sky-blue gunblade, the owner of that blade giving him a final warning in the crystal halls of the Lunatic Pandora. Those same eyes later, blazing with more fear, rage and pain than he'd ever seen in them before as he...

"The sorceresses as one! Watch closely Squall!"

Gods. He threw Rinoa at that monster Adel. Sacrificed her, handed her over to that...thing... to be devoured... absorbed. Reduced to a lifeless husk so that the sorceress could rejuvenate herself at the expense of Rinoa's life-force. His stomach twisted in sudden nausea at the memory. He had no idea what happened next. Everything had gone rather spectacularly to Hell immediately after that.

The frightened, uncomprehending look Rinoa had given him as he'd thrust her into that creature's arms would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Rinoa was a sorceress. His fault too, that she bore that taint. He had felt Ultimeicia's rage at Edea's defeat; it had burned through his mind, along with her contempt at his failure to adequately defend the body she inhabited. Lying only half-conscious, he'd felt her sudden satisfaction at finding a new host, one that could carry her to the only other sorceress that existed in their timeline.

He remembered fighting Squall. He remembered the cold, set look on the SeeD's face as they battled, and wasn't entirely sure that he had won that battle. The damage he'd taken argued that if he had, it was a costly victory.

He did recall Fujin and Raijin both trying to talk sense to him before finally giving up and abandoning him, just before Squall had grimly set to work on trying to kill him. It had all gone too far by that point and he didn't see how he could stop anything. Viewed in that light, he couldn't actually blame his friends for leaving him to his fate rather than go down with him. It had cut him deeply however, leaving him feeling far more desolate than he'd expected. But it was too late for him to stop what he'd foolishly set in motion. He had to simply keep going forward, keep fighting to see what resulted. If nothing else, he would at least die fighting, rather than giving up.

That's what he'd hoped, anyway.

He was almost disappointed that Squall had turned and attacked Adel instead of him. Oh, he knew why; despite the rage and pain he could plainly see in Squall's eyes, he was too much of a SeeD, even as a newbie, not to engage the threat immediately in front of him. Seifer had been defeated and therefore was no longer of much concern, but Rinoa was in danger and Sorceress Adel had to be dealt with.

It didn't matter that he was the reason that Rinoa had been in danger. Or rather, it did matter, but Squall had other, more pressing priorities. A little thing like vengeance was something he had no time for. Not right then, at any rate.

He hadn't seen much of that battle. His injuries had caught up to him and he'd lost consciousness midway through. He had no idea if Squall had managed to save Rinoa or not. Hell, as far as he knew, everyone was dead.

Cheery thought, that.

He supposed if Squall was dead, he at least managed to complete his mission and destroy Ultimecia. Gods only knew how. But the bitch was undeniably dead, he had felt her die. He had to give the guy props for getting the job done and earning a hero's death.

Unlike him.

It was calling to him again, that black abyss of despair that was always lurking, waiting to swallow him up. He'd managed to hold it off while he worked on not dying, but his conscious mind was asleep. Movement, activity, anything that focused his mind on the here and now, helped to stave it off...But it was always there, waiting for him. He didn't want to look. Didn't want to see what roiled in that maelstrom, lest it suck him under and drown him. There lay madness, something Seifer very much wanted to avoid.

You think you have a choice, slave? Her voice, dropping venom into his mind.

She was dead. He knew she was dead, he'd felt her die. Had felt her rage at his impotence, his failure to protect her and destroy her enemies. Had felt her clawed fingers ripping him up from the inside as she tried to take him with her. Body and soul, he'd been hers, and she didn't want to leave without him.

Her voice still echoed in his head. The emptiness in his mind, his heart...his very soul ...that she'd left behind, yawned like an open wound. The only thing he could do was simply not look at it. It was far too raw still for him to examine closely.

"I am here."

Draken's solid presence, anchoring him. That was why he hadn't joined his mistress in her final journey. Draken had not let him. Ultimecia had not counted on having to share Seifer's mind with his guardian, and that had likely saved his life.

For whatever that was worth.

It did not make for a restful sleep, when rest was what his body needed most.

He moaned softly and curled onto his side, silent tears leaking from his eyes, as he mourned. Edea, Rinoa, Fujin, and yes dammit, even Ultimecia. What he felt was far to complicated to categorize; he'd loved her, hated her, worshipped her and lusted after her, and damn her, she'd fed off of it. She'd used his childhood infatuation with Matron to entice him to follow her, to be her knight. She'd used Edea's body to seduce him into bedding the only mother he remembered, further binding him to her. She'd twisted his rivalry with Squall to truly disastrous heights, and had used Rinoa as a helpless pawn to further her quest to achieve Time Compression.

His tortured mind might have interrupted his rest, save his exhausted body was sunk too deeply into sleep inertia for him to do much more than frown and moan, shifting in an effort to escape his nightmares. But caught as tightly as he was in the web of sleep, he could only mire himself further.

Deeply enough that even his dreams faded away. Perhaps, if he managed to sink deep enough, he would not wake...

It was discomfort of a different sort that woke Seifer this time, and he cracked his eyes open and gazed balefully out at the brightly blazing, already hot sunlight.

"Fuck." He muttered.

"You say that alot."

"Shut up." he grumbled. Drake must be in what passed for a good mood; the GF tended to get sassy when it was feeling good.

"Rude."

"Bite me."

"That can be arranged."

Seifer snorted at Drake's retort, appreciating its quick wit. He also appreciated its subtle approach in distracting him from the darkness that hovered just at the edge of his perception. Just waiting to sweep in and swallow him at its first opportunity.

Then he made the mistake of moving.

"Holy Hyne on a fucking crutch! Bloody fucking Hell! Oh, Gods," Seifer gasped, as his body reminded him that he'd been pretty seriously pummeled the day before. He took a deep breath and grit his teeth, getting up carefully as his injuries screamed at him. Draken was paying close attention, with both shock and admiration, to the profanity that Seifer was chanting under his breath as he crawled out of his cave shelter and stood up.

He stretched, carefully, in a effort to work out the kinks that had accumulated overnight. Then he walked a short way down the wash until he found a suitable spot.

"You are feeling better?" Draken asked doubtfully.

"Well, I ain't dead yet." Seifer grunted, working at his fly.

"The night unsettled you."

"No, my...nightmares...unsettled me. The night was fine." he replied shortly, then fell silent as he dealt with the most pressing source of his discomfort.

"If it makes you feel better, the emotions they roused in you fed me very well, though the flavor was somewhat bitter."

"Do you feel better?" Seifer asked, finishing up and rearranging his clothing.

"The rest and the emotional energy you provided has restored much of my strength. So, yes." Draken answered, then observed, "this is not the case with you however. You are improved but still weak."

"No shit, genuis."

"No, it was not shit. It was piss. Shit usually comes after. And yes, of course I am a genius. I share your mind with you, do I not?"

Seifer shook his head, snorting quietly. Yeah, Draken was definitely feeling snarky.

He made his way over to the basin, wondering if there was any water left and if it was still safe to drink. There was, though a little debris and sediment had accumulated during the night. Still, it was good enough for him to drink, so he did.

After drinking his fill, he scooped up some more water and splashed his face and hair with it. Then he sat back on his heels and considered his situation. No food, unless one counted the remains of the anacondaur, and he didn't. Very little water, and no way to carry it with him...and no real idea of where he was. But a night's sleep, however unsettled it may have been, had improved a few things, which had cleared his mind considerably. He was at least able to think, though he had to consciously shove aside the lingering effects of his nightmares. He was only partially successful, however.

That abyss, that echoing emptiness, was still there pulling at him. So was despair.

"Master. We cannot linger here." Draken reminded him gently.

"I know, Drake."

He could sense the guardian waiting for him to decide on their course of action. In this, Draken could not help. But it was right; they could not remain where they were. He had to move... somewhere. If nothing else he had to find or contrive more secure shelter and a better, more reliable source of food and water. And then what? Stay in the desert until he died?

One thing was certain. He couldn't simply hole up and wait for rescue. It was unlikely anybody would be looking for him. And if someone was, guaranteed he would not want to be found by them.

So what were his options? Not Esthar City, certainly. He had been very visible there as being connected to the Lunatic Pandora and the reawakening of Adel. Not Deling City either, and for essentially the same reason, only there it had been Sorceress Edea, and the havoc she'd wrought (he knew now it was while under Ultimecia's control), with him acting as her henchman. Or lapdog, as Squall had observed. Those keen blue eyes had seen far too much.

Timber? No. While he might be welcomed there for the assistance he'd rendered to the Forest Owls, it was still, so far as he knew, under Galbadian control.

Fisherman's Horizon? It had possibilities. His presence there had not been as public, and Mayor Dobe had a reputation of being a "live and let live" sort, so long as his philosophy of non-violence was respected.

Seifer thought he could do that. It was worth a try anyway. If nothing else, it would be a good place to lay low until he could figure out what to do with himself.

Pulling his survival knife out again, he rooted around in his pockets until he found what he was looking for: a printed out topographical map. Ridiculous, really, when he could have gotten a holomap in Esthar, but those were expensive and far less durable than plain old paper and ink.

Unfolding it, he spread it out on the ground and took note of the coordinates for FH. Then he used the compass in the hilt of his knife to take a reading on his current location to plot out his route. Folding the paper up and putting it away, he sat still for a moment, thinking.

"It is a long way."

"Yes."

Both he and his GF knew their chances of actually making it to FH were slim. But it was better than the odds he faced now.

At least if he died, it wouldn't be because he'd given up and waited for it to happen.

Once decided upon a course of action and a direction, Seifer was left at a loss as to how to accomplish it. The only mode of travel he had were his feet, and while there might be a chocobo forest somewhere about, he had no idea where. There was no guarantee that he could actually capture a chocobo even if he could find the aforementioned forest, which he rather doubted he could manage before his meager resources ran out.

In short, finding and capturing a chocobo was not a terribly practical, or even feasable, plan.

"Drake?" Seifer addressed the GF aloud. It was an unusual luxury for him to be able to do so. Obviously, he couldn't have done so in the past. Nothing spelled "crazy" like walking along arguing with the empty air.

"Yes, master?"

"I'm going to need you to keep a special lookout for any useful draw points. Specifically I want you to tell me if you run across any healing energy. Elemental energy is good too, particularly water or ice spells." Seifer instructed.

"The many monsters here may be of some use as well, once you've regained enough strength to fight them. They are newly come from the moon, therefore will have many different energies which could translate into useful magics."

"Yeah, well I'm a long way from being able to fight even a geezard right now." Seifer replied ruefully.

"You know I will help you. And you cannot say that I take too long to respond, when all the instructors at Garden agree that you and I have the fastest summon."

Viewed in that light, what Seifer was considering began to approach the realm of possibility...barely.

Reaching for his gunblade, he tried to draw it, snarling in frustration as his arm trembled from the strain while the heavy weapon barely shifted in its scabbard. No. Not even close.

"Fuck." he growled. An echo from his midsection reminded him that he wouldn't regain his strength if he didn't eat.

He glanced at the anacondaur's remains again and grimaced in disgust. No, not that. Freshly killed, it had been tolerable, but he rather doubted it had improved with age. There was damn little vegetation about, and none that was edible. That didn't mean there wasn't anything edible, just very little in his immediate vicinity.

He decided that focusing on obtaining food and a means of carrying water with him should be his first priority. He eyed the carcass again, this time in speculation. An idea began to form, and he stood. Pulling out his knife, he approached the monster's remains. Grimly, he set to work.

What he hoped, was that either the bladder or the stomach would be useable as a means to carry water. Of course, it would take preparation, and Seifer wasn't at all sure of how well it would work but...He really didn't have too many other options.

He was aware of Drake's interest in the proceedings. Indeed, the GF seemed to find Seifer's activities in general highly entertaining. Hyne only knew why.

"Because the other GF's are boring. Most of 'em aren't even smart enough to talk to."

"GF's talk to each other?" Seifer asked, diverted by the idea.

"Sometimes. None are close enough now to speak with though." Drake answered.

'Which GF's have you spoken to?"

"Shiva, and Ifrit. And Diablos. Some others too, but I don't remember what they were called. Lower level, basic guardians, they were."

"Shiva? And Ifrit too? They're actually smart enough to speak?" Seifer asked, wondering why Drake would speak with those two in particular.

"Indeed, they are. Shiva especially."

Huh. I wonder why...Seifer thought.

Drake of course, hearing the thought, answered it, "We can sometimes be a reflection of the mind that we inhabit, if it is strong enough. Shiva is both a reflection of and to some extent, an influence upon the mind of your brother."

"He's not my brother." Seifer interruped, flatly. He examined what he'd pulled from the carcass so far, hoping he was remembering the process to convert a bladder or stomach into a water-carrier, correctly. And trying hard not to think about having to drink water from it.

"Your memories say otherwise." Drake replied.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed them." Seifer said.

"They provided many complex emotional overtones. Quite satisfying, actually."

"Good. I could do without those memories. Any more you'd care to devour while you're in there?" Seifer asked. Maybe Drake would like to feast upon his most recent recollections..

"I do not EAT your memories, merely supplant them. It is the emotions that they dredge up that sustain me. And you cannot lie to one who knows your heart as well as you do. You were raised with him as his brother, and this tie still remains even though you deny it." Draken said.

Seifer frowned. One of the more frustrating things about having a GF as intelligent as Draken was the fact that the damn thing would NOT let him lie to himself.

"You know he'll try to kill me, if we meet again." Seifer said. There was neither fear nor disappointment in that statement, but certainty.

"I know. And you will do the same. It is not so strange to think of, when you consider that you have been pitted against each other for most of your lives. Have you ever wondered why?" Drake asked him.

Seifer paused, struck. It was so obvious, that he'd missed it entirely. No, he'd never wondered, and if that same question had been asked months ago he'd have dismissed it out of hand. But now... Insights gained from his link to Edea/Ultimecia as knight had provided him with an entirely different perspective.

They'd been called The Fated Children. He had been included in that number, and he'd thought his role would be the same as the others. It was not. Edea had known, from the moment that she'd taken on Ultimecia's power that day in the orphanage garden, what his role would be, just as she'd known Squall's.

It was at her direction that Cid had created SeeD, started the Garden academies, and began training children to kill...his wife.

Edea had seen what was to come, because Ultimecia's memories had revealed it to her while she was dying. The battle had already happened and been concluded in a time and a place far removed from the orphanage's garden. Armed with the knowledge that Ultimecia had conferred upon her along with her power, Edea set them all upon the pathways that they'd needed to take.

Seifer wondered if Edea had seen what everyone's ultimate fate would be. If she'd seen what would happen if Squall and everyone had failed, or taken different paths or had died before that final battle had been joined. How much of their future was predestined, and how much was chance? How much choice in their destinies did any of them actually have?

It was enough to give a guy a headache if he dwelled upon it too deeply.

Seifer studied the preparations he'd made, and hoped it would work. He'd had to foul the water in the basin even more, but...His stomach growled again, more loudly than before.

"I need to find something to eat," He muttered.

"Well, if you want meat, there is plenty to be found," Drake replied. "You need only to reveal yourself. Sooner or later, something will try to kill you."

Story of my life, Seifer thought. Draken snorted at that response.

"Well, I need other stuff too," Seifer replied, thinking about certain edible plants and roots that he hoped to find, along with wood for fire.

"Then let us hunt." Draken replied.

As Drake had predicted, hunting mostly consisted of Seifer looking like bait, while the GF roasted whatever attacked. Hard as that was on Seifer, even though he did very little actual fighting, the creatures that they ended up killing did provide some useful items beyond simply meat.

Though that was certainly important as well.

By the time they were done, they'd managed to get together enough raw materials that with some judicious refining, they'd have a chace of getting to their destination. A slim chance, but still, a chance. One day of rest and preparation, was all that Seifer was going to allow himself. He'd have to be ready to leave by morning.

As Seifer lay down, intending to rest, he had to consciously turn away from that black void that lay waiting for him in the back of his mind. Somehow he knew, if he allowed it to suck him in, he'd never get out again. He would die there. It didn't much matter that it wouldn't physically kill him. Not right off. No, his heart, his mind, his soul...that would die first. His body would follow.

Perhaps he was already dead and just too stupid to realize it...

"You are not." Drake declared firmly. "And I will not allow you to go into that place."

"How can you stop me?" Seifer challenged, despair beginning to creep in.

"I will stop you." Drake said simply.

By some miracle, the darkness that crept in and stole his consciousness was sleep. Of course, the nightmares returned, and he slept restlessly. But he did sleep.

When he woke the next morning at first light, he felt better than the day before. Nowhere near what he'd been, and he still couldn't lift his goddam gunblade...but he figured he'd be able to walk. Perhaps he'd even make it to FH, if the Gods smiled on him. And if not...well, he supposed it really wouldn't matter.

If he was fated to die, then he figured he'd best go and meet his death instead of sitting around waiting for it to find him.

It was with that mindset that he gathered everything together that he'd managed to refine, cobble up or otherwise accumulate in an effort to make his trek a little less suicidal.

He figured he'd get as far as he could before the day got really hot...then he'd have to hunker down out of the sun somewhere to wait out the worst of it. The preparations he'd made the day before played a large part in that.

He had no idea how far he'd actually get... But he'd keep going until he couldn't. At least then he'd be able to say that he'd never given up.

For whatever that was worth.

Hyperion rode at his hip in its accustomed place, it's momentary stint as a walking stick ended in favor of an actual stick that he'd managed to find in his foraging the previous day. It helped, far better than his gunblade had, and he was grateful for the support.

Taking a deep breath, he took another compass reading and turned toward FH. Then he started to walk.

Author's Note: No, I'm not going to detail a torturous slog across the burning hot desert. That's boring. Or, maybe not BORING exactly but not the direction I'm planning to take with this. REALLY. In another note, I may end up withdrawing this story from the Successor Challenge if I don't foresee concluding it before the end of this month. I will NOT abandon it, regardless of whether or not it stays in the challenge. So, don't worry that it'll never be finished.

UPDATE: Sadly, due to circumstances largely outside my control, I was not able to complete this story in the time allowed, so I've had it withdrawn from the Successor Challenge. That does NOT mean that I won't finish it, it'll just go with the rest of my works. Good thing about this is that I can take my time and actually write the story that I WANT to write, rather than try to hurry up and finish by a particular deadline. So...I will continue to work on this and let you all know when the next update's going to happen.