The Mountains Win Again
Chapter Twenty-One - Betrayed
A/N: One chapter to go after this one! This isn't my best writing, by the way :p
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Seifer woke suddenly, lifting his head from the sand. He had been passed out on this beach for at least a day or so. He was incredibly lucky just to be alive.
Laborously, he struggled to his feet and attempted to dust himself off. His previously flawless gray trenchcoat had been ripped, tattered, and discolored by the events of the days before.
Unable to locate his gunblade, and unsure of his surroundings, he was in deep shit to say the least.
Looking out into the sea before him, he sighed in frustration. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" he asked himself. Falling back into a sitting position on the beach, his head in his hands, he began to relive the events prior to his washing up on this unknown beach.
"So could you clarify, at what part of Esthar are we going to be landing?" Seifer asked from his sitting position in the Garden sea-vessel, similar to those used in the SeeD exam from years before after which Squall and his peers were promoted.
"You..." Squall started, standing in front of the briefing screen. "Won't be arriving anywhere in Esthar."
"What?" Seifer cocked an eyebrow in response.
"Men... You know what to do." The commander said, looking at the other two SeeD candidates in the vessel, and gesturing toward Seifer.
The men immediately stood up, each one attempting to grab Seifer by an arm.
"You fucking peice of shit!" Seifer roared, sending a stiff backfist into the nose of the man on his left. Blood pouring from his nose, he crumbled backward. The blonde then abruptly threw his other attacker over his shoulder, breaking the man's arm in the process. "This was your plan all along!"
Reacting quickly, Squall darted forward, drawing his gunblade. Aiming a powerful downward slash for Seifer's shoulder, he intended to end the confrontation decisively.
Seifer's superior skill saw him through, however, and he managed to dodge the attack. The commander's jaw was broken when he was jarred by a left-hook to the chin, dropping his weapon. Dazed, he was tackled to the floor by his combatant, and the two landed in front of the door, the gunblade now in Seifer's hands as he prepared to finish him off.
Squall would have surely died, had he not drawn a small pistol from his right pocket. Pressing it against Seifer's side, he pulled the trigger.
The color drained from Seifer's face as he realized he had been bested. "Damn you to hell. Quistis... She will learn of this." he said weakly.
The commander sneered, reaching over to press the button which opened the door, before flipping Seifer off of him and through the door, into the open sea.
Seifer clutched his side, still in pain. Squall had foolishly believed the wound was lethal when it clearly wasn't. "Overconfident as always." he shook his head.
Standing up again, he knew he had to discover his whereabouts, or else he would die of his wounds in a matter of days. On one side, endless ocean. On the other, thick jungle.
"Jungle..." he said. "That's no jungle." he suddenly realized exactly where he was. As quickly as he could move with his injuries, he approached the illusion before him. As he passed the treeline, it disappeared, and he found himself in a large area of grassplains. Nearly a quarter of a mile northwest was the magnificent nation known as Esthar.
Donning his signature smirk, he began making his way toward the city.