The night was humid and sticky. In her bed in the Balamb Hotel Rinoa tossed-and-turned feverishly. In her waking dream she was on a beach. The sun was high in the cloudless sky radiating tremendous heat. Waves lapping gently on the shore. Sea foam gushed in huge plumes and carried by the wind drifted along the sprawling beach. The salty scent of the sea and acidic tang of seaweed hung in the air. Sand pitted with tiny footprints stretched as far as Rinoa could see. In the distance a lighthouse - crumbling and decrepit - stood guard on top of a narrow peninsula that jutted into the sea. On the nearby cliff face a building made from gleaming white marble sparkled under the sun, a jarring blot on the rugged landscape of craggy brown peaks. A young girl bounded along the beach. A small bucket clasped in her pudgy left hand, the girl stopped every few steps to pick at shells and clumps of driftwood. Lost in her own world the girl hummed as she bobbed her head up-and-down in unison with her song. Rinoa took a few steps forward, drawn almost magnetically to the young girl. With each step Rinoa's feet sunk deep into the sand, her footprints glaringly large compared to the other tracks that meandered out in all directions. Step-after-step Rinoa struggled, pushing harder-and-harder, sinking deeper-and-deeper in the soft sand until she was mere feet from the child. She struggled to get a look at the girl's face, but the girl's flowing black hair had fallen about her face in messy tufts.
The girl, oblivious to Rinoa, gazed at the contents of her bucket. With a rattle and shake she smiled, content with her hoard of shells. A young boy appeared on the horizon, running through the surf as he thrashed a piece of driftwood through the air like a sword.
"Go away!" The little girl shouted. The boy stopped, a frown appearing on his face. He pushed his flowing auburn bangs away from his eyes and lashed out at a clump of sea foam with his wooden sword.
"I'll tell Big Sis!" The boy retorted, his eyes set clearly on his feet; he looked sullen and awkward.
"I told you, I'm not playing with you anymore, Squall!" The little girl boomed.
Rinoa gasped, that voice…. It was her voice!
A door on the facade of the marble building swung open. A young woman, tall, fair skinned with flowing black hair appeared. A soiled apron dangled from her waist on which she rubbed her balled up hands. "Squall, Rinoa!" The woman called. "I told you kids not to play near the water when I am not with you!" She shouted. Then all slowly faded to black until nothing remained but the two children. The children approached each other taking short, rigid steps. Almost robotic. Their faces pale and expressionless.
"I'll be your knight!" The young boy said with all the vocal depth of a grown man. He saluted rigidly with his right hand. "I'll fight your enemies. I'll stay by your side. I'll give you my unwavering support and loyalty. I'll do anything you ask of me," He continued.
"I am the sorceress….. Seed will come kill me, right? The leader of SeeD is you, Squall… Squall's sword will pierce my heart. I guess it's okay if it's you, Squall. Nobody else..." The young girl said as she placed both hands on her chest. Two wings shot from the girl's back – fluttering and stretching, huge feathers shook free and drifted into the air. One wing was ivory white, the other ebony black.
"There have been good sorceresses," A man's voice broke the silence. The beach scene faded away. The ground erupted with wildflowers. A vanilla sky hemmed by gray valleys appeared. "There have been good sorceresses, Rinoa. But there have been more bad sorceresses than good. I was more bad than good. I was lazy, too. Through my weakness, my discretion I brought misery. I created you people as tools. Tools to be used. When you started to surpass me I tried to do something about it, to stop you. I made a mess of that too. We'll talk again. For now, sleep".
Dawn's first rays crept through the window of Rinoa's room, tracing their way gingerly across her face. She woke with a low moan and series of stretches. From her balcony the hustle and bustle of the train station could be heard. The harbor was bustling as well. Swarms of students in full uniform had been making their way along the promenade bound for Balamb Garden since early morning. Rinoa had sat on the balcony and watched them as they departed on the following evening. Their uniforms pressed, sharp and pristine. They walked with light steps, joking and laughing. Their demeanor was different now. They walked much slower, with deliberate steps. Their uniforms were soiled and torn. Their faces dirtied and in some cases torn and bloodied. Rinoa wondered how many of them had not come home, had not come back to their friends and families. She had come here to hire SeeD, to pay them to fight for her, for her cause. The idea confused and irritated her somewhat. But ultimately it made her sad – sad to imagine someone not only fighting, but possibly dying for a cause they did not believe in. Sad to think that people could die based on the orders that she gave. But that was life, that was the price that had to be paid when fighting for a cause, for a belief. Rinoa slowed her racing mind. Stretching her arms over the railings of the balcony the sun kissed her skin. It was a beautiful day and she had time to waste.
Selphie straightened the small polaroid picture that she'd pinned below her mirror. She examined the smiling faces in the photo one-by-one. Her friends from Trabia Garden. They'd be so proud to know that she'd made, that she'd become a SeeD. She dreamed of the day she'd see them all again, to tell them. To see their faces. She cast her eye to the new uniform resting on her bed. She removed the plastic cover and held the new SeeD tunic up to her chin as she spun in the mirror. A toothy smile spread across her face as she slumped onto her bed. She scrunched the tunic into her chest as her eyes closed. She thought about all that had happened – the exam, the fighting, escaping from the stalking machine that he chased them through Dollet. Then Zell and Squall's faces appeared in her mind. Her mind lingered on them. She'd just met them. Yet they seemed so familiar, so important to her. Their faces warmed her heart.
Sleep came quickly, unexpected. Selphie was back in Trabia. But things had changed. The promenade leading to the main hall was shattered, the ground splintered and churned up in huge drifts of smashed concrete and clay. The buildings facade was shattered, gnarled, twisted metal jutting from shattered masonry. Small signs of movement could be seen along the front lawn. As Selphie approached she could make out students, bloodied and limping carrying wounded friends on their backs or in their arms. Along the front lawn dozens of students lay prostate, wincing, shivering, pawing at their broken, bloodied bodies. Warm tears cut trails down Selphie's cheeks as she turned away from the horror. Behind her Squall and Zell stood. Zell's eyes set on the ground, he was forcing the big toe of his left foot into the ground, a guilty expression on his face. Squall stood defiant by his side, his expression stern and stoney. Selphie lunged at Squall, throwing her arms out her caught her in a tight embrace. As Squall and Selphie connected Selphie jumped bolt upright in her bed. Sweating and panting, her face pattered with tears she placed her new tunic back into its bag and made her way to the canteen, obviously shaken and upset.