Chapter 6: Compromises

A train ride, a trek through the Galbadian countryside, and a strangely life-like dream later, we finally stand at the front gates of Galbadia Garden. It's an imposing, fiery red structure, sometimes referred as the Garden of Fire in contrast to B-Garden as the Garden of Water.

But I don't have time to admire architecture. Not this time.

"Could you leave this one up to me?" I turn to the others at the entrance, careful to keep the urgency out of my voice. "I've been here several times, and I know the headmaster well." I look to Squall; I don't want to give the impression that I'm stealing his command, his first at that, but I must speak to Headmaster Martine or lose my wits.

Squall nods, and I turn hastily away, mumbling something about explaining our situation. I wonder how many of them realize that my motives aren't quite that--Maddock Martine knows Garden regulation as well as I do, and will tolerate Rinoa's presence despite what Galbadia might say. His ties to the Galbadian military are quite well known, but Martine knows to use the Gardens' principle of neutrality when it suits him.

No, our situation needs no explaining. What I really need is information, the sort that only Martine with his inside sources in the G-Army can provide. And if there's a chance, the merest chance that we can still help Seifer...

Five hours since his disappearance. I can only hope it's not too late for him.

But if it is?

My steps stutter, then pause in the middle of the elegant, high-ceilinged foyer. It's all just a little surreal, the students who pass me by with politely curious glances, the overhead lighting, the barely-heard murmur of ventilators and electricity. My head spins.

It's with an effort that I resume my steps towards the stairs at the far end of the lobby, trying to be brisk and businesslike while terrible fear leaves me shaking in my boots. The hollow clang of my boots on the stairs bring to mind a climb to the gallows--

Stop it. Right this instant.

I give myself a mental shake, stop, and try again. A clipped, yet unhurried pace carries me to the second floor. A calm, assured half-smile for anyone who meets my eye. Quick right-hand turn before the door to the waiting room and I stand before the elevator to the third floor, to the master room.

Please...

A brief prayer in that thought, and the hope is just as painful as the fear. Torn, I let the elevator carry me up towards a message I both dread and anticipate.

A soft ping signals my arrival and Headmaster Martine turns to face me as the elevator doors slide open. He stands before his desk, outlined against the vista of the dry Monterosa plateau outside the wide window.

"He's dead, Miss Trepe," comes the familiar tone, military to the marrow and as dry as the lands that surround this Garden of Fire. "He was classified renegade, and no Garden was implicated." I pause on my way out the elevator and lean against the wall next to it, trying to breathe. No victory has ever tasted quite so ashen. "I'm sorry." A flicker in his impassive eyes, infathomably deep above gaunt cheekbones.

He gestures to a chair and I stagger towards it as though the air has turned to water. About as breathable, too. I sink into the cushioned seat and manage to take deep, silent breaths.

This was why I came alone to see the Headmaster, when coming with Squall would have been the proper thing to do. I distrusted myself to react calmly to the news. With justification, as it turned out.

An assistant enters unobtrusively to serve tea, orange pekoe just as I like it, and I take a few calming sips until I can speak again.

"What... happened, Headmaster?"

"He was interrogated, of course." 'Interrogation.' A weak euphemism, especially in the Galbadian context. "He steadfastly denied that Garden condoned his act, much less ordered it. Asking why else would Garden send four operatives to stop him." I close my eyes briefly. "They never saw anyone take so much questioning without cracking."

"Yes, that sounds-" My voice breaks, and I have to take another sip from my cup. "That certainly sounds like Seifer."

"They let it go at that--they can afford no direct confrontation with Garden at this stage, if possible." So they resolved the matter by one death, and no more. As Seifer thought. As he knew.

"Yes, especially when they want cooperation." I meet his eyes. "Yours most of all, Headmaster."

He scowls. So the rumor that the Sorceress wants this Garden as her base of operations is true, after all. And knowing Martine, he has a thing or two to say about that. Or a thing or two to do.

"That matter will be taken care of." A dismissive wave. "Your orders from Balamb are here."

So it has begun.

I have to wonder if the orders really are intended for us, the party from Balamb. The timeline doesn't fit. Did Balamb even have time to learn about our escape from Timber to G-Garden? They might have guessed, given standard Garden operating procedure, but it seems just a little convenient that we would arrive just in time to receive orders to "take care of" the matter of the Sorceress.

Is shrewd, unscrupulous Martine covering his own back, thrusting the orders on our shoulders? So that Galbadia Garden would be safe no matter what the outcome, while Balamb Garden takes the fall should the plan backfire?

Well, no matter. I have no way to challenge him, and truth be told I have no qualms against taking revenge against the witch who lured Seifer away to his death. Come with me to a place of no return, indeed. My hands clench into hard fists as I stand and leave the room, to give the news of Balamb Garden's safety to my comrades, to Zell most of all who has been guiltridden all through the journey here.

"..Beyond troubled. Well, he wasn't really a bad guy," I finish lamely, before I can ramble on and on. Why tell the whole truth when it would serve no other purpose than to make Zell feel worse? It won't bring Seifer back.

I consider saying something when Squall has an uncharacteristic outburst and leaves the room, but I do not have the energy to follow him, or to try to trace a story I barely understand myself. (Go talk to a wall.) Let it be my burden to bear. I lean back on the couch, trying to get a little more rest before we are called on again.

I will ever understand why Seifer did what he did, when he seemed as uncaring of Garden as he was of the rest of the world. To the last he defies my expectations, leaving me off-balance and unsettled with no idea what to think.

Perhaps this is the peace he has found, the only kind he could find in a life of violence both internal and external. I shy away from the memory of blood-red smiles, of a woman walking away from a dirty street corner, of a strange-familiar voice that makes me hurt with longing. The last glimpses of a life--beyond troubled--that I will know nothing of, in the end.

I'm going to die like that, Quisty. A boy lying on a beach, the night sky alight above him. Is this another of the memories or hallucinations, courtesy of the witch? But why is my name in it? Will the Sorceress affect my mind just as she drove Seifer to his death?

I gaze dully out the window at the late afternoon sky above the Monterosa plateau. Perhaps the Sorceress has compromised me somehow and I am a danger to this mission and those around me. At the moment I am too tired to care. For some reason I think of fireworks, and feel suddenly like crying.

Wow, it's been forever since I updated, graduation and settling down in a new job really sucked up my time. But the reviews I got in my inbox reminded me I had this project going, too, and I am determined to finish it even if the updates are short. Thank you so much for the kind reviews, and I hope you enjoy!