Fate, Wild

Chapter VII: The Lion's Shadow

His eyes were glued to the crate containing the bomb as it was being loaded into Robby's truck. He looked back once more at the vacated site, his heart racing between seconds. The rebels were indeed becoming stronger, to have included a bomb threat upon Deling City—he was outraged. There was no way he would partake in the bombing of his own home; no way could he tolerate hearing anyone speak ill of it.

"Now what, Robby? Getting the bomb was easier than we all thought it would be. We've got enough time to make a couple more trips into that storage. We should gather everything while we have the chance," said the man who had been helping Robby underground all the while. The two taller men were silent as usual, folding their arms and awaiting his answer.

"Yeah, you're right," Robby answered, digging his left hand into his rusty brown hair to scratch his scalp while his right hand planted the truck's keys into his pants pocket. Whether he scratched his head while in thought or because the dust and mold underground had irritated it so, was entirely debatable. His face, although appearing young, had seen its share of hardship. Squall saw lines of stress forming at his eyes and mouth. The same could be said for the others. They must've been fighting this long and strenuous battle since they were all of age, he thought. Maybe it had been so long that a bomb plight would be just enough to end their struggle once and for all. Whatever their reasons, he would not stand aside and do nothing when it came to his home. No matter how great their struggle, he would not have Galbadia's capital destroyed knowing he could've done something to prevent it from happening. "…If you guys are game, we could knock this out in another hour or two and make Kiros happy, what say you?"

"Let's do it," the taller men agreed and trotted toward the abandoned farm. The younger man nodded his head, and then followed closely behind them. Squall took one step forward, but stopped, concocting a plan within.

The others, jogging, had made great progress ahead now.

Robby sensed that the amnesiac was not following everyone and came to a complete stop as well, "What are you waiting for, memory loss guy?" He asked him, turning about only to find the hilt of Squall's gunblade falling into his face. Once he was laid out on the ground, Squall searched his pockets and retrieved the keys to the tan truck behind. He jumped in; thankful the door was left unlocked, and tossed his gunblade on the passenger's seat. He then started its engine and pulled off immediately.

The others were close to the site when they realized the truck was on the move. By the time they turned around, only the ghostly sound of its engine and the kickback of dust remained. Their truck was nowhere in sight, along with Robby and the taciturn teen. Robby's men all ran back and found him on the ground, unconscious. The blow to his face was serious, but it wasn't life threatening.

When Robby finally came to, he felt immense pain at his forehead where a large red bruise occupied it.

He groaned first, touching his forehead, "What the hell happened?"

"That guy you recruited just made us. He took off with the bomb and our truck!" One of the taller men said angrily.

"Dammit! Ow!" Robby regrettably found that yelling only worsened the pain. "What the hell…Who is that guy anyway?"

"I don't know, but Kiros seems to take a special interest in him. I didn't trust him since the beginning," The younger man said from his seat in the dirt beside Robby.

"Same here," The others agreed except Robby. "Not even sure why you invited him now that I think about it," one of the men muttered.

"Oh, you know me; I just hate to leave anyone out. I was kinda hoping for the extra security, but obviously it backfired. …If anything," the rusty haired man heaved a jagged sigh and then continued, "…When Kiros finds out about this, he's gonna be pissed. He'll probably wish he never let that traitor onboard-that is, if that kid was ever a traitor at all… It wasn't an ordinary sword, was it? No one here, not one of us uses a weapon like that."

"Not even Laguna," the injured man prattled on. "I wonder where he's headed to. He's got the bomb, but…we don't have to worry about him using it on us; it's not even armed, but it's still ours nonetheless and dangerous in galbadian hands. Let's get back to Kiros."

Squall had noticed a fork down the road on their way to the wrecked site earlier. If he took the path to the west, he would be well on his way to Deling. He remembered the campsite was on the edge of Deling City right before the terrain became Timber's plains. It had been too long since he reported to his platoon, and he wasn't sure if the lieutenant was still alive. He had abandoned them involuntarily all for the sake of gaining knowledge about the enemy, but it seemed there was nothing more to be learned from them but that both their attacks and numbers were growing stronger. It wasn't exactly his intention to land himself in the heart of the rebel's domain, but the choice to stay for as long as he had had been his decision alone. Even so, there was no excuse as to why he had abandoned his own platoon for so long.

What would the lieutenant think of him? Would he label him a poor leader because of his actions thus far? Squall hated to think that anyone saw him as inadequate. He had spent too long training to be a leader, training to have his moment on the battlefield only to have it gone up into flames because of one costly decision. Then a grave thought entered his mind.

What would his father think of him?

The eager young man sped down the highway. He had a ways of travel before the campgrounds came into sight, and it was too soon to think about anything that would mean his demise later.

The sky had grown dark by the time he spotted what seemed to be the galbadian base, and he was thankful. There had been one moment of sheer panic when he noticed the fuel had decreased rather remarkably since he first began the unexpected road trip. He pulled the vehicle onto the outer perimeter of the campsite on two accounts, one being that the troops might mistake his identity and open fire, and the second was because there was a bomb on the backseat. He wanted to dispose of it somewhere out in the wilderness, but burying it might be like returning it to the rebels since many of their hidden secrets lay underground.

Bringing it into the custody of his men to be certain that it was never armed and put aside would be the best possible action for now.

The teenage commander reached for the gunblade at his side, still set in place on the passenger's seat, then he opened the door to the truck. He stepped out into the coldness of night. It was certainly a long drive there, a drive he was sure to never take again while wearing regular clothing. The next time he was ever in Timber, he would be sure to clad himself in galbadian armor. Only the sight of a galbadian flag could trigger such a thought. One look at the army base and he was reminded of Galbadia's might, power, and most of all, its honor, despite all that he had learned of his father's dirty business. He could argue that both sides made valuable arguments as to why their system failed; however, he could never stand against his father in this power struggle. In all honesty, Squall was intimidated by the general. Years of battle experience versus a week of misfortunate knowledge, it was ludicrous to think that fighting with the rebels would amount to their victory. How could he take the enemy's side over his father's anyway? He had to be out of his mind to ever consider such thing.

He walked to the camp base with his face hidden by the hood of the black coat he had picked up earlier before leaving with Robby to the farm site. It would do well to keep the crisp air at bay. Upon approaching the camp, he saw there was a new addition to the area surrounding it: a gated area storing accumulated prisoners.

It must've been after the battle, Squall thought, that the soldiers had gone through following their original orders to gather all rebels and question them. This was good on their behalf; it would show he had been too busy to give a follow up report to the general so soon. Even though the situation was out of his control, he would never admit to being held captive by the rebel forces. He was unsure how his father might react to the idea of him being behind enemy lines, not a full day went by and already he had been captured. He would appear incompetent and most of all, weak.

As he neared the camp, Squall was approached by a soldier as expected. He prepared to reintroduce himself for an immediate clearance charge.

In the gated area, Zone lay with his head to the ground having been interrogated and beaten mostly by the soldiers he had arrived with. His mouth was taped shut and his hands were cuffed behind his back. His mind was in a distant place, wandering back to days before when he swore to Rinoa that he would never get caught. Maybe she was correct from the beginning. If he hadn't had gone to the volunteer site to gather information, he would never be in this predicament now.

Earlier that morning before the lockdown order was given, something in the back of his mind told him he should've bypassed it, but he chose to follow his heart rather than follow the fear that equally sprang from this idea in particular. Zone opened his eyes to look at the sky. With the flame torches overhead polluting the natural view, he was barely able to see the stars. It reminded him of Timber. Things would be so much easier without Galbadia's presence, like that damn torch, he thought. It was burning and polluting the air, choking the life out of everyone instead of providing warmth and simple light. Even with its main purpose being to bring light to the camp, it shone arrogantly, like Galbadia.

"Who are you?" A soldier's raised voice over at the front of the camp and Zone widened his eyes to get a better look. Then he fought against his tired body to sit upright. "Commander!" The soldier cried aloud. When Zone was finally able to sit up, he saw a hooded figure walking before the soldier who had yelled out near the front. The soldier was now escorting him. Before he lost sight of him, Zone realized the unknown person had dark brown hair, but nothing else could be gained as the figure darted quickly toward the tents.

Commander…? It was too dark to make out any other detail of this particular man, but Zone felt that he should watch closely as he was most likely the galbadian army's commander, a figure that was never mentioned until now.

Just like before, the soldiers disappeared behind the tent and out of his sight. Zone groaned from his place on the ground, the chilly wind stung the open cuts and bruises upon his face. Then for a moment, Zone felt that he had heard men calling out behind him, an eerie whimper muffled by the tape upon their mouths. Other soldiers stationed outside of the gate slammed their guns against its iron railing, causing them to quiet down at once.

Suddenly the soldier who had escorted the commanding officer returned with a few more soldiers and ran out into the wilderness toward a vehicle parked far away. Zone kept his eyes peeled.

At that time, Squall was frozen in the lieutenant's office, as if having seen a ghost.

"Commander Caraway, it's good to see you. Thought we'd never see you again," Lieutenant Martine laughed heartedly as he rose from his seat to shake Squall's hand. Squall accepted and returned his gesture slowly. He had wondered if the man had been all right since that night. Seeing Martine in person caused him immense relief as well as a moment of puzzlement.

"Thought I'd never be back," the young commander answered quietly and unsurely, looking up at the short ceiling. He suddenly had a moment of claustrophobia. The lieutenant grinned and released his hand, then gestured for him to take a seat which Squall did after returning his eyes back to Martine's. "I wasn't sure of the outcome of our battle or of your well being, sir. Things were a little complicated when I came to and I couldn't get back sooner."

"There's no need to worry, though I do agree, it was a bit chaotic at first with waking up in that godforsaken forest under some smelling salts provided by my men. By this time, most of the rebels had escaped, been killed, or captured. Out there," he motioned his hand in the direction of the front gate, "is a remnant of the rebel army that attacked us that night. We've spent this week interrogating them, but we barely know anything."

"About that," Squall took a deep breath, "I know a good bit of what's happening now-there's a lot I'd like to speak with my father about, actually."

"Speaking of the general, he'd like to see you a.s.a.p." Martine spoke with sudden urgency at the mention of his father, making Squall feel a bit uncomfortable. "He wishes to hear of our latest accomplishments directly from you."

"But I haven't exactly been here…I don't think I'm the right person to represent our report."

"You could report what you saw out there. I imagine it was a hell of a ride, no?"

"More or less," Squall shrugged.

"Well then, with that being said, I believe you should get ready to see the general, commander," the lieutenant uttered while rising from his seat once more. Squall lowered his eyes to the desk as if worried.

"Martine…"

"Yes, sir?"

"What are you planning to do with those captured rebels out there?" Squall had asked, lifting his eyes and awaiting his answer.

"Well, since we've no more use of them, I figured we could exterminate them tomorrow. We'll be ready for your orders upon your return, sir."

"No," Squall muttered, standing to his feet. He faced Martine slowly and held his breath. He could think of no one at this moment but Jesse, Jesse and perhaps the girl in the owl mask who had helped him to understand why the people resulted to such drastic measures. He hadn't exactly agreed to the bombing of Deling City, but he would be no better than the corrupted soldiers if others like Jesse's blood stained his hands with the executions of the captured rebel army. "I want you to continue to keep them as prisoners for now."

"What do you suppose we do, become overrun with them, sir?" Martine grinned.

"Don't take any more prisoners in. If the base is under attack, then you'll defend it, killing anyone who tries to approach, but as for our current prisoners, just leave them be for now."

"…Hmm. You know your father would rather we kill as many of them as possible."

"…" Squall sighed and looked away first and then brought his eyes back in line with Martine's, "Listen, it's my order as commander. Don't kill any of the rebels within our camp."

"Understood then, Commander," his grin had yet to falter.

"Also," Squall spoke again, "I was able to retrieve a bomb from the enemy. It's still in the truck right outside of camp. I had the soldiers look after it for now, but we need to confiscate it as soon as possible."

"We'll get right on it, commander," Squall immediately wondered why the lieutenant was being overly formal.

"Thanks," the young man said hesitantly, then marched out of Martine's tent of an office space. He was relieved to find that the lieutenant was still alive and that their base was still managing even without his presence, not that his being there would truly make a difference since he had only stayed there but for a day. Now all that was left was to appear before his father for a minor briefing. What Squall would say to him later was beyond even him. There was so much to report, with so little time, and not to mention a hint of confusion. What was he doing? Sparing the lives of the very people responsible for the countless attacks on his father's life, what was happening to him? Was he really so weak?

No…I was just….I…. the brunet sighed in defeat, and then went to change into his uniform in preparation of meeting his father.


The room was quiet and dark. The illumination from the streetlights poured into the apartment through pearly blinds, but it was barely any light at all. She was relying mostly on her natural night vision to see anything inside. The soldiers were still on the move below, never clearing a path, never taking a break. Rinoa had watched several groups leave and return as if discussing her building, her room, in particular.

There in silence the girl had all sorts of thoughts. She had had to talk herself out of defying her mother's orders plenty as the day went on, each time becoming more desperate than the last. With no new updates on what had happened to everyone and the sun gone down, she was beyond worried. She hadn't slept, hadn't eaten. She did nothing but wait in the darkness. Perhaps waiting for a second raid into her home or perhaps her death? Where was her mother taken and how was she? Where was her father, had he been alright at the office? Was he allowed to leave? What had happened to Watts after the incident this morning? Where was Zone?

Her parents and friends were all that consumed her mind. "What was that?"

Rinoa had heard a noise rattling about coming from somewhere in the house. With this deafening silence, the noise could spawn from anywhere and be mistaken to come from another place just as easily. In other words, a person might be able to hear a pin drop from her room and believe it came from the kitchen, but it actually happened in the bathroom down the hall. Even so, she was in no mood for guessing games. The girl reached for the steel baseball bat at her bedside, having only played one actual game with it once in her childhood and remembered that she was horrible as a batter. Her aim, although crucial to her survival at the moment, would never stop her from choosing a more suitable weapon. The only person who would need to worry about her swinging was a possible burglar or soldier, since she swung like a drunken wild woman only with slightly better aim. It was either miss or hit, and there was no recovering from her hits.

Maybe the noise was her imagination. She had probably heard something in the apartment beside hers, but then again, the people had been collected from their homes already. She was completely alone yet again. Wasn't she always alone? Even when everyone rushed underground to escape the guards, she had been separated. It wasn't until later that she found help along the way, but why was she always alone? Always needing saving… She had been left behind only to find the boy underground. What had happened to the boy in the fox mask anyway?

-thump-

There it was again. Her heart immediately began to beat faster, harder. The girl swallowed her breath and decided to brave the sound for now. She would not be able to rest until the source was found.

Rinoa eased off her bed and sauntered toward her bedroom door, bat in hand, preparing to open it slightly. Then there was the sound of a creaking door and soft footsteps in the hallway. The girl immediately abandoned her bravery and lunged toward her bed, jumping on it and falling to the other side and out of the view of whoever was walking the hallway in her home. The bat was still clung tightly in her hand. Rinoa was amazed that she moved so quickly and quietly. Oh no, the door! I didn't lock it, the moment of admiration soon passed when she thought of her room door.

-clink-

This time, it sounded as if someone was grabbing a hold to her doorknob. Rinoa couldn't have been more correct.

When the golden doorknob began to turn, she knew it was over. She would have to fight to defend herself or be taken away by a soldier, and there was no way she would allow the latter to happen. Someone was about to get knocked out with a bat, and it wasn't going to be her. In that brief moment, Rinoa took a deep breath and stood up visibly, readying her bat. She thought of charging and screaming at the top of her lungs like a maniac, petrifying her attacker before he could make a single move, but tonight was not the case.

The door opened slowly. It felt like forever until a man wearing a mask stepped into the doorframe of her room. Rinoa, for a moment in the darkness, thought the mask resembled boy's orange fox mask from before. "Rinoa," he whispered softly.

"…How did you get in here?" she tightened her grip on the bat, unsure of his intentions. And why on earth had he known her name?

"Listen to me," he whispered in a vaguely familiar tone. With no light to see him, Rinoa was still a bit frightened. "You're in danger here, so we need to go right now."

"How do I know you're not lying? I can't even tell who you are."

"It's me, Rin," She saw him lifting his hands defensively even in the dark, "It's dad."

"Daddy!" Rinoa dropped the bat immediately and ran to his opened arms, embracing him tightly. Finally, she looked up at his covered face and touched her hand to the material. "Why are you wearing that mask? You're…"

"We'll talk about that later, but for now we have to get out of here."

"Okay," she said softly and followed his lead as he faced the door.

Outside of the room, she was led to her parent's bedroom. She maneuvered quickly behind him, following him through the bedroom and into the bathroom. Inside, there was an extra closet that Rinoa had always considered their storage bin, but she was surprised to find the man kneeling down and lifting up a square lid in the floor.

"What the," Rinoa gasped, "I've never seen that before."

Laguna chuckled a bit and then crawled down into it, stepping on a ladder and making his way down. "It's safe to climb down now. I'll help you to the ladder, but I need to stay at the top to close the lid, so just drop down beside me."

"Oh…okay," Rinoa whispered, wondering how he expected them both to fit on the ladder, but because it was the only way out, she decided to go through with it. The girl climbed down into the hole in the floor, surprised at the spaciousness once she was beneath the surface. Her masked father allowed her to climb down, thankful that the torchlight from the bottom had illuminated it a bit, albeit faintly. Once she was safely past him, he reached up and closed the lid tightly then headed down the ladder after her.

It was a long way down.

Being that their home was located on the second floor, Rinoa figured the ladder was built within the building. They were within the walls of the other rooms, and going lower. "Dad, where are we going?" Hadn't the meeting hall been discovered? Wouldn't there be soldiers down below. Now that she noticed it, a certain chemical consumed the air.

"Just keep climbing down, quickly."

She wasn't sure if she wanted to. It led to the sewers, no doubt. The stench from below was becoming overbearing; however, any smell was better than the confined air she had been inhaling all day long.

When Rinoa reached what seemed to be about midway in their climb, a light sprang up all around them. Immediately thereafter there was a thunderous roar accompanied by a burst of flame. The walls shook around them, crumbling, and suddenly the ladder itself broke away. Rinoa screamed when the bars rattled and failed. Her grip was lost and she plunged down into the darkness beneath them.

"RINOA!" Laguna released his hold on the ladder not a moment before a second explosion erupted. This time the building was left to shatter explosively, engulfed in flames.


Raine heard the explosion from the jail cell she shared with the other residents who had been removed from their homes. She already knew it was meant to hit her home. The moment she had heard soldiers discussing it amongst each other, she felt that leaving Rinoa behind was foolish. It was wishful thinking to actually believe that Galbadia would allow her to leave after only a couple of hours in captivity. Raine closed her eyes, hoping to see past her own naivety in the situation.

"What do they hope to prove by destroying our homes?" Men and women chatter amidst the inner jail cells. The large group had been broken up and scattered about the wide facility to avoid overcrowding. "They want to leave us stranded so we'd have no other choice but to depend on them."

"They're just trying to scare us into thinking that there's no hope, and make us confess," a woman muttered to another woman across from Raine. Raine looked around in a daze, surrounded by people who were standing, seated, or just as dazed as she was, in a state of confusion and panic. Galbadia was winning the battle so far, and it seemed that all that was left was chaos. She had always lived her life in what seemed like a fantasy world, only reading of events such as these in newspapers, reluctantly, most of the time. However, Raine was no idiot. She knew of the harshness of their reality. She knew that at any moment, the little freedom that they had could be taken away from them just as her son had been stolen away from her long ago, and everything could end with one order from the general. Now that it was actually in the process of happening, she wished she had been better prepared; she and her countrymen.

"I won't tell them anything. They'll have to kill me!" the people carried on around her.

Rinoa… Was Rinoa safe? She had most likely lost the one person she tried her best to protect.

Then the main door at the front of the walkway opened where a few officers and the warden entered. The warden, an average height man, led the group of men, all clad in navy blue uniforms. The medals of his cap and badge were polished to kingdom come, reflecting the ceiling lights all around the room. He took long strides down the aisle of the moderately full jailhouse.

"Did you all hear that explosion just now?" He stepped hard down the walkway. The air was thick with silence, so heavy around that one could hear the dust upon the floor being crushed beneath his steel toe boots. Reaching the end of the walkway, he turned about quickly with a wide smirk, "It was the sound of your leader being blown to bits."

Random gasps were heard about the room at first, but Raine looked up toward him quickly, struck with sudden curiosity in the nature of his words. Her eyes immediately locked with his. She stared into the brown eyes of the short, ginger haired man with great interest, her electrifying pools silently ridiculing him. He stood at center fold, breaking their heated stare and then turning about from cell to cell at the gathered people, feeding on their worried glances to him and to each other, all except the woman whom he had stared upon momentarily. Her glare was fierce, sharp, and wary.

"Damn it's crowded in here," he whispered softly, though loud enough for them to hear, then continued, "I'd love to sit and chat with all of you, but my patience has run thin, along with the other officers here, since you folks are so bent on not saying a word to us in your single interrogations. We've had to kill at least three of you since earlier today."

Raine's eyes saddened momentarily, giving though to his report and wondering was true at all. She immediately took a deep breath and folded her arms, digging her fingers into skin of her forearms to fend off her irritability. Nothing irritated her more than the sound of his voice. He seemed to enjoy hearing his own voice, that and the reverberations of his boots hitting the floor. He loved the vanity of these sounds more than attempting to speak sense to them, to say something useful, not that she could expect much honesty from a galbadian soldier or a warden for that matter. Suddenly, Raine realized why she disliked him so much: he was both a soldier and the warden.

"Though I may have enjoyed the endings of those few interrogations, I'm no executioner, so we've decided to handle this as humanely as possible. I want you all to take a good look at everyone else in this room. There is a very good chance that the person before you, behind you, or at your side is indeed, a rebel. We've only gathered people at specific points in this city for a reason. These areas were suspected of high rebel activity. This does not mean we are finished occupying Timber, but this plan was executed simply to eliminate possible future threats to Galbadia. I am convinced you all have a hand to play in the underground factions; therefore, you will all be prosecuted for conspiring against the very life of General Caraway."

Some people immediately began whimpering at his words. Raine's eyes angered, catching his attention once more.

"Please don't think that we, as officers, are heartless. I am taking the best possible action in this grave time. You should thank me for sparing your lives. We were supposed to get a direct order from Commander Caraway, but as other things came up, his presence here was cancelled-I should say this, the commander is not as lenient as I am. He would have very well ordered your executions; such is the price of conspiring against his father."

"Now," he abandoned his grin, "we will gather you all to board the bus once it's arrived. Its arrival can range anywhere from tomorrow to the next few days. I suggest you get comfortable here, since you won't be leaving anytime soon."

Raine continued to glare at him as he turned away from her, and marched out of the walkway, exiting the room. A few moments later, the soldiers triggered the lights off, initialing bedtime.


Squall had finally arrived at his home in Deling City, the very mansion and heart of all Galbadia. It towered him. The length it took to reach his family's estate seemed to have tripled since he had last been home. Within the dark night, the normally wondrous landscape had now emitted a foreboding aura, one that the young commander felt he could not ignore. Standing before the mahogany double doors, he felt insignificant; however, Squall mentored to himself quietly. Regardless of what his father might think of him, he had done all that he could in every situation he had faced. Squall steeled himself for a confrontation with his father. He was now ready.

"Dad," Squall spoke as soon as he entered into the general's office. "Sir," he called out to him when he saw Richard staring out at the night view displayed in the window behind his desk. Because of all the lighting in the city, the stars were barely visible.

"Squall, I see you've returned," he said while turning to face Squall directly. The young man stepped forward, closer to his desk and was now standing in the middle of the room. He saluted his father in full, ready to give his honest report. "I'd like an update about your forces, commander," Caraway spoke as if reading his son's body language and the thoughts swirling about his mind.

"Yes, sir," I don't know what to make of this report considering I'm the only one confused about all that's happened so far. Oh well, here it goes… Squall relaxed his saluted hand and rested both hands at his sides. "We arrived at the base with ease days ago; however, it came under attack upon the first night of our arrival. I, along with Lieutenant Martine, was able to stop the enemy and scatter their forces to the nearby forest. The lieutenant was injured and we decided to pull back at that time. Not before long, I found myself behind enemy lines and was able to learn some vital information. Their main base is located in—"

"Timber, yes I know," Richard had interrupted. "We've had a few breakthroughs while you were out patrolling the perimeter. I now have the entire city of Timber occupied and the troops are gathering all those who have been found guilty of associating with the rebels."

What? I knew it was being held captive, but I didn't realize he had been informed so quickly. They've actually started to make arrests? Squall lowered his eyes to the floor of the room, his thoughts getting the better of him.

"What is it?" the general asked as he walked around his desk, leaning his bottom against its front for a temporary seat.

"It's nothing," the younger brunet lied, looking up to his father immediately. "…If I may continue, sir?"

"Please," Genera Caraway nodded his head, insisting Squall continued.

"…I've come across some of the weapons to be used by the rebel army. I was able to confiscate a bomb that was in their possession…and I highly suspect that Deling City was its target."

"They meant to destroy all of Deling City with a bomb?"

"It seems that way, sir," Squall answered while taking a deep breath.

"…" the general closed his eyes momentarily and heaved an exasperating sigh. He then opened his eyes with an accompanying smile, "I didn't think they would go so far." Squall was surprised to hear him chuckling, "Here I was thinking they were only good with shotguns, farm tools, and homemade grenades as the reports insist. A bomb…so that's what they've been cooking up-after all these years."

Squall didn't understand why, but his heart raged behind his chest ribcage.

"Is that all for your report, son?"

"That's all," for a moment, the boy felt unclean, as if he had betrayed someone. But how could he? This was his home. He was entitled to report back to his father.

"Good, I'm happy you're doing well."

"Thank you, sir, I look forward to going back to the base to continue our fight."

"That won't be necessary," the general muttered as he pushed himself from the desk and returned to his chair that had been rolled beneath his oak wooden desk. He rested his hands at its leather cast top, "I've also been busy while you were away, Squall." Richard faced his son with the smile that had sustained, "I've been in this office, in this position of leadership for quite some time, possibly longer than my forefathers before me. The last few generations seemed to have trouble eliminating this rebel threat, each doing only so much, or so little about it and now it's grown into what we see today: a cancerous nuisance. But things will be different now. I intend to end it once and for all. I will not have you step in after me with this same problem on your hands, my son. It can be done. The rebels can and will be annihilated."

"I now have the evidence, or your word rather, that will allow me to go forth with this operation," Caraway had continued. Taking a soft breath and relaxing his face, "I have an army of men returning from Esthar. You should know that these men are the best in class. You trained with them when you were coming about a few years ago. They will be certain that the rebel act stops now. If the enemy persists and does not change its ways, I will have my soldiers crush them."

"With all due respect, sir, is that necessary?" Squall spoke suddenly, surprising even himself. In all his life, he had never once spoken up against his father's word. It showed a great deal of disrespect.

"What do you mean? Of course it's necessary. Those people won't quit until we're all dead."

"They're not even," Squall took a moment to fight against his caving throat, though he wished he could silence himself more than anything, "…they're not capable of winning even against the standard troops we have there now. Don't you think that sending a war happy squadron is overkill?"

Richard stared at his son blankly. "How can you stand there and tell me that the enemy had a bomb that was targeted for our home, and then in the same breath tell me that they're not capable of winning?"

"Because…I…" What was he to say, why did he even open his mouth at all? He knew it sounded foolish. What was he thinking? Even so, he followed through. Squall had been raised to state his concerns with or without anyone's approval, even his father's; that is, only when the situation wasn't as grave. He needed to be strong not only for himself, but for the people who had died trying to hold a conference with the man standing opposite of him in the room now. If he had to fall into Galbadia's shadow to become the people's mediator, then so be it. It was time to end the ignorance, the madness. Squall carried on, "…I don't think killing everyone is necessary. I do believe that these issues can be sorted out. If you actually took the time to listen to them, there would be no need for—"

"What's this?" Caraway looked upon his son quizzically, a fit of chuckles following, rumbling underneath his breath. "…So you've had some time to study them, is it? Now you think you know their every thought?"

"No, I won't claim to know all that, but I do know that they're not aiming to kill you. They just want to talk."

"You found a bomb in their keep, correct? I think that rings loud and clear what their intentions are."

"I know it sounds bad, but…I could've been mistaken," The young man took a deep breath and looked about himself. "…It wasn't even armed yet. I took it and disposed of it before it could be used."

"Then how would you know it was targeted for the city?" Richard approached him slowly, staring into his son's darting eyes. "You've been…listening to them, haven't you?"

"…" Squall's eyes finally returned to his fathers. He swallowed the knot in his throat.

"…It was a bad decision, making you into a commander so soon," the general sighed and looked away from his son. "How can a person be so intelligent and so powerful, and yet be so naïve? I had hoped you would see the truth for yourself and realize the actions that I would need to take in order to gain progress, to gain their utmost respect and obedience."

Obedience..? These are people's lives… They're not animals to be trained. Squall's heart burned within, "But I have seen the truth! I'm not denying the fact that the rebels have bombs in their possession, and neither am I saying that we should do nothing about it, but I believe there's another route we can take to avoid the bloodshed. There are people younger than me fighting in this battle. I've watched them die with my own eyes. Those aren't just rumors like you've been telling me this entire time, dad. There are things happening to those people that go unreported by your soldiers. They're doing things that misrepresent us, or the idea I thought should represent us. You can't run a country with fear, not all of our fathers reigned in dictatorship. It'll never get better if you're writing off everything they've done as an attack against your life, father, that's just an excuse. I'm not weak, nor am I naïve, but I will be defying my conscience if I looked away from the things you're about to do to those innocent people. They don't deserve it! You've got to stop this killing!"

"That is enough," the general spoke, lunging forward and smiting Squall across his cheek. The boy stepped back, heart racing, holding a hand to the left side of his face with eyes looking down at the floor now as Caraway's heavy voice returned, "Clearly you have lost all your sense of responsibility and your mind. Squall, you are hereby relieved of your prior duties. You are to stay here in my eye sight! My operation will be carried out with or without your input. It is high time you saw what a general is capable of, what must be done to demand respect, maintain respect. This country has always been dictated and it has never failed. After it is done, you will thank me for showing you what it means to be strong. Sympathy is for the weak!"

"I," Squall began, lifting his eyes from the floor and lowering his hand, "I was hoping you'd be merciful to the kids you're about to kill, but apparently I'm asking for too much," The young man boldly retorted to his father.

"…Those kids will grow up to continue the path that their fathers have laid out before them. I will instill fear in their hearts and turn them away. It is like branding the cattle. A wound inflicted deep within the heart of their force for all to see. Who would dare defy me after that wondrous day?"

"…And to think that I defended you," Squall whispered in disbelief as he turned from his mad father. "I'll have no part in this."

"You're saying that now, but someday you will understand why it needed to be done, and you will thank me for showing you what it means to be strong."

Squall stopped at the door and looked back at his father for the last time, taking a deep breath first.

"Goodbye, father," Squall muttered. The sound of his voice shredded the silence all around them now. He then exited and made his way up the vast walkway. He could not stand to bear any of his father's madness; even the thought of having to stay home irritated him.

"Squall," Julia's voice called out to him from behind. When he faced her, Squall immediately noticed that her figure seemed a bit frail. Her bright clothing made her appear to be an apparition of some kind. She was frightfully pale.

"Mom," he whispered her name as she approached him with outstretched arms and embraced him. There was something different about the way she hugged him this time. She was more demanding, pulling him in as if to hold him tight and never let go. He then realized she must've been worried about him as it was his first official mission away from home.

"It's so good to see you again. I've never been more worried."

Squall was the first to pull away, "…Are you alright? You really…you don't look healthy."

"I'm alright," she grinned, but Squall couldn't tell if it were a true grin or a façade. "I'll walk you to your room, dear."

When they were in the security of his room, Julia sighed and approached her son, "I heard the conversation you had with your father, Squall. Like you, I feel that there are things that can be done, steps he can take to be certain that this battle ends without more deaths."

"Yeah, but it's like you said before, he's too stubborn to understand that," Squall groaned, "...He thinks we're invincible, that Galbadia is invincible. He won't stop until everyone there, and in the other smaller towns surrounding it, is dead. At first I didn't understand why they thought so horribly of him, but now I see that they were right. He really is a tyrant. I was hoping maybe he didn't know of the murders going on, but…now I see. He's well aware and, in fact, the one responsible for it, for everything. He'd rather kill them than work with them to make the conditions better. If only I…If only I knew how to stop this from happening."

"Squall…"

"I can't stay here mom, not like this. I have to do something about it. I have to at least try to warn them…"

"Now, Squall, that is not your place. It is your father's decision and his decision alone. To each Caraway his own attributes are listed and this will not affect your name when you are the general. He'll take full responsibility."

"What…?" He slowly backed away from his mother, face curling with disgust of her implications. "What are you saying? …You want me to stand by and let him carry out his plans?"

"I know your father…is…" She struggled to continue. In her heart, she knew it was wrong and there were no words to justify him no matter how long her moment in thought had been.

"If I stand by, my hands will be just as bloody as his already are. I can't live with that, nor am I worried about what becomes of my record in either scenario. This is about more than me, more than any of us. It's about the lives of an entire city of people. At this point, I don't care about becoming a general. I'd rather be respected, not feared. Dad is corrupt and I don't think you should stay here anymore. It's too dangerous."

"Where will I go? This place is all that I have. You and your father are all that I have," Julia's eyes glistened sadly.

"You could hide out in a town far away, some place like Winhill. Also, Deling City isn't safe either. I don't want anything to happen to this place, but we're not invincible. I've had one bomb discarded that was most likely to be used for Deling City, but that could've been one of many."

Her eyes widened at his words. Squall continued, "I want things to change, but I'm afraid if we continue in dad's policies, there will never be a positive change. It's getting worse for both sides, can't you see that?"

"Of course I do, but I don't want to lose either of you. I want this to end just as much you both do, but we must find a way to settle it so that everyone is satisfied."

"I'm sorry, but I won't be satisfied pretending that an entire city didn't get wiped from the face of this earth, and I will never be satisfied with living a lie!" Julia's eyes fell to the floor at his words. Hadn't her entire world been a lie?

"Yes," she stammered, clearing her throat and backing away from Squall. "I understand, Squall. So you wanna leave…?"

He had finally taken a deep breath and rested his head in the palm of his hand. She approached him slowly and placed her hand on his shoulder, looking up into his eyes as he lowered his hand and faced her. "…I want you to follow your heart," her voice was as gentle as an angel's might. "Do what you think is right, but Squall please promise me that you'll be careful. Choose wisely. Whatever may come of your actions, know that I will never neglect you. I wanted you to know something tonight, but I fear that now isn't the best time to say it. Instead, if you should learn some things while you're away, just know that I've always loved you and I will never stop loving you. I don't care what anyone says, you are my son."

The boy stared into her eyes while feeling his beginning to glisten, "Mom…I love you too," he answered her firmly and fell into a tight embrace with her, though a tinge a bewilderment nagged at the back of his mind.

Julia eventually left his room, left him to his thoughts of all the chaos happening around him. 'You are my son,' he recalled. Her words hadn't bothered him when she was actually speaking them, but now he was left wondering what she had meant by it. Maybe it was to prepare him for his upcoming actions? Maybe his father would disown him if he decided to leave to warn the rebels.

What the hell are you about to do? He asked himself in thought.

If he did decide to help the rebels, would it also mean never seeing his mother again? The boy looked back at the door from which she had recently exited and softened his eyes. As long as he knew she loved him, he was willing to risk everything to be certain that Timber wasn't completely destroyed by his father's hands. His eyes narrowed immediately, thinking about how cold his father was turning out to be. He was becoming a figure that Squall hadn't even recognized, no longer the tough, yet gentle instructor from his youth.

The brunet turned about in his room, facing his wardrobe. He then changed into his old training clothes, or regular wear: standard black pants padded at certain areas for protection, a series of belts climbing his leg to hold supplies, a white army t-shirt and a short-sleeved black jacket. Longer sleeves were sometimes troublesome in the heat of battle. Battle? Was he really preparing for war? Better to be prepared and armed rather than defenseless, rendering him an easy target. The secondary sheath lying in the corner of his wardrobe caught his eye, perfect timing he thought, along with more ammunition for his gunblade, also ready for use. He had then packed them away in a light carry bag that he looped his arms through and secured tightly at his back.

Squall grabbed a good pair of midnight leather gloves which he slipped on immediately. He closed the wardrobe doors and paced toward his dresser, snatching up his favorite ring, one with a lion's silhouette carved into its front. It was a gift from his mother from long ago. He had forgotten to bring it along at his first departure, but now it would be essential to have in his care. He wasn't sure how long he would be away, maybe forever, but there was nothing else of value to take with him at that moment, nothing but the weapon sheathed at his side and the ring slid about his finger. He would be damned if his leaving wouldn't amount to anything. If necessary, he would put his life on the line to save those people from an all out slaughter.

When Julia returned to Squall's room sometime later than night, she found it dark and empty as expected.

She envied her son's bravery. If only she could boldly face her fears and admit her sins, her lies; but how could she? It would have been completely selfish to tell him the truth now, either of them perhaps. Julia closed her eyes in the darkness and solitude of her son's room. Was it goodbye forever? She could not hold him there even with all the words of love in the world. It seemed Squall had inherited some of his father's ways after all, though used for either good or evil depending on the heart: whenever his mind was set on something, he went for it. There would be no way to stop him now, as stubborn as Richard.

Squall had followed his heart, and she was glad.


Notepaper:


Hey guys, and thanks! The next update is currently under construction, so we'll see how it goes later. In the meantime, this one turned out to be longer than I expected. Hopefully, that will satisfy you till next time, right? As you can see, I've spiced up the summary a tad bit as I have a horrible habit of making boring summaries (lol)-I think it works for this story, though, what do you think? And if you haven't noticed, I've also altered the genre, so yeah, don't worry, the story will catch up with that pretty soon. I'm fascinated with war stories and yet I'm still a hopeless romantic at heart, though you could never get me to say that in person, hahaha. Well alright then, I'll see you all next week with the next update. Love you guys, and thanks for reading, as usual!

StardustRay